At this time last year, I had never been farther into the northwest than Denver. I was content with my family and friends. My familiarity with the University ended with the Lukes and Joey Harrington, but I was ready for a change and Oregon was the most attractive member of a list that would accept all of my credits from New Mexico State University. On a whim, I signed a contract transferring myself to Eugene and abandoning the desert for my senior year.
Having never been here, I trusted my apartment complex to find me someone to live with. A few months later, I received a phone call from my future roommate – a sports copy editor for the Emerald.
After a few brief conversations, it was obvious to me that our apartment complex matched us together for one reason: I own several guitars and amps, while he owns turntables and records. That was all. Needless to say, when he told me that he had a favorite umpire before a favorite athlete and that he was the most uncoordinated white kid in the world, I was worried about the living situation. We were completely different.
This September I met Josh Norris – an individual who made it very clear that he was not interested in spending time with people, doing any outdoor activities or considering anything that was not his own opinion. He was determined to deprive himself of any kind of personal connection or situation that could take him out of his comfort zone. Despite his best attempts, he couldn’t maintain this defensive image.
This is because, like with most people (even the roommates who are not as cool as mine), a good heart was fighting to break through. Now I understand the way that Josh blends the mannerisms of Saved By the Bell’s “Screech” and the heart and soul of any hip-hop head within his own personality. I understand why he lives between stacks of records and nervously curses as he paces during New York Yankees games. I understand because at some point he decided to let me.
Looking back on this year, it is clear that this living situation worked well because we challenged each other. Josh taught me to have fun laughing at the smaller things in life and to do something eccentric when I cannot find anything else to laugh at. I hope that I have helped him gain the courage to show his fantastic character without defense.
Above all, my roommate and I forced each other to dig deeper into our characters and confront parts of ourselves that we had never known before. For that reason, no person should be afraid of leaving their element and living with new people. No individual should ever ignore the quiet student in the back of the class who never wants to have a conversation. No one should ever fight to keep an acquaintance from becoming a friend. And most of all, everyone should know that saying goodbye at the end of an academic career doesn’t mean that the bonds formed throughout those years are being broken. After all, any goodbye that someone cares enough to say is never really a farewell; it is an acknowledgment of a relationship and firm piece of evidence of the memories that have been created.
Joshua Medina is a senior at the University.