How Freshmen Age.

The other weekend, I went to go help out a local progressive political campaign and gather signatures to get a candidate onto the ballot.

I showed up at the office at the same time as a couple of (older) (white) dudes, and I ended up hopping into the car of the skinny one with uneven shaving who smelt like must, shit, and a bit of tobacco, and together we went to the western end of the neighborhood near the campus where I teach.

At like the eighth door of the evening, I'm sitting in front of it checking the listed names against the labels by the buzzer, and all of a sudden through the glass door I see an apartment door fly open and as the person whips down the stairs from behind the door and across the small vestibule and goes to open the front door where I'm standing, she draws up short, and it's a writing student I had taught the previous year.

She was surprised, and so was I, it was such a coincidence.

The next time I was on campus, too, I passed by at a bit of a distance someone I had had 2 years ago, and her face was no longer fresh, and had something hard and cautious in the eyes.

Freshmen sure change.