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 The Love Letter
Fourteen days ago, I was sitting before my computer, chatting to a friend who was studying in B-Building. It was a usual morning. I missed class because I had overslept. My friend wrote that he had heard a sound, and then he went offline. It was only hours later, that afternoon, that I learned about the attempted bombing, and I realized what we had been through. Our home had just survived, luckily. And as the sun shines outside my window and I hear the sound checks for Spring Fest, that moment feels like a bad dream that never actually happened.
I have always been very proud of the high school I attended, and the case seems more or less the same for everyone else: Our high schools made us. They turned us from children into young men and women. When it comes to university, things are a bit different. There are no strict schedules, no uniforms, no time restrictions and nobody minds what you do. So while it gives liberty, a university is harder to belong to.
But then again, that liberty creates something else: When attending college, students may experience things they will possibly never experience again in their professional 'mature' life, or at least they may experience them for the first time, before being caught up in the responsibilities and expectations that come at the end of one's college years.
My followers, if I have ever had any, could easily recall that I've mentioned my plans to pursue a master's degree this fall, and that I didn't know at exactly at which school I would end up. And I still don't. Although there is a possibility that I will continue my education at Bilkent (and consequently my column in Bilkent News), this could also be the last time I will be writing.
This fourth year has been the busiest for me, both in terms of my workload and my emotions. Three of the four Bilkent News columnists are fourth year students and I know that, for all three of us, writing a 500-word column was often very difficult due to time constraints and other things to concentrate on. I was only able to bring up maybe half of the issues I initially wanted. Nevertheless, Bilkent News has been a great opportunity. A weekly newspaper, written to a large extent by students, is something that many schools in Turkey lack. But our own newspaper is certainly not recognized, read and contributed to enough, so I wish for more student participation for future volumes.
Thank you for having read this column. Sometimes I wasn't such a great writer but all I ever wanted to do was to bring some change: a change in the communal life of Bilkent or a change in our private lives, the kind that can come only from the safe feeling that somebody cares about and understands the same things as you do. And as I am on the verge of leaving, or staying, I believe this last column, even if my others didn't, finally reaches all of us on a certain level.
So, at the peak of my emotions, here's a silly love letter from me.
Dear Bilkent,
I might see you again in four months, or this might be the end of our days. You showed me how one could hit the bottom and then rise again. You taught me what it means to be away from home and how home is actually what you make of it. Just the thought of you falling apart somehow is heartbreaking. In a month or so, when I am done with my undergraduate years, nothing will be the same again, but you know, I will remember. So goodbye dear school of mine, and stand up against all odds.
Damla Okay(AMER/IV)
d_okay@ug.bilkent.edu.tr
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