My journey to OA-land was very random. I got bored studying for finals at Anschutz and decided to look up the website on a flyer posted on a notice board in front of me. The ASK ME was a little intriguing. On the website, the job description sounded fun. The selection process sounded pretty challenging and thus, convinced me it was a much coveted position. Going through transfer orientation myself, I wasn't aware of the importance of orientation assistants at all. Nevertheless, I printed off the application and told myself to apply for the position as soon as I got done with finals.
Finals ended. I went back to Wichita. It took me sometime to motivate myself to finish up the essays for the application. Soon enough, it was the last day to submit the application. That morning, I completed the application and asked the post office to get it to Lawrence as soon as they could. Then, over winter break in California, I was pulling up the NSO website everyday to find my pin number. I had made it to Round 2.
After many interviews, much anticipation, last minute wardrobe malfunctions and the realization that I didn't have enough interview-type clothing, I was going to the NSO office to pick up my letter to find out if I had made it. I walked out of the office to read it. Found myself a spot where I could sit had I not made it and would need to comfort myself. Skipped all of it and tried to look for a Congratulations! And there, I found it. Typed in black ink. Read it over to make sure I wasn't imagining it. And then awkwardly walked back into the NSO office to pick up the acceptance packet. Good times.
Then, after weeks of ruthless training, shameless ice breakers, and uncountable inside jokes, we had all become orientation assistants. We had heard deans brag about their schools, practiced skits, gotten over 10 foot walls, seen far too many graduate assistants, experienced major changes in NSO administration, played pennies at a diversity retreat, and slept in a camp where 'purpling' was not allowed. Some things were unanimously agreed to at the beginning: swag will be the word for the summer, Ramona will ask too many questions, Stewart will share his invaluable experience, ride that pony will be our favorite ice breaker. Some things were established later in the summer: Sergent Cunningham will make us look for the 1 in every 5 college age women, the mic will refuse to work for anyone starting the intros and not only be mean to Becky, people will come and go but we will continue to rock orientation. Although some things are still to be figured out: how do students end up at their small group advising when clearly told several times to go to their AIM, what does Stoppel do on his iPad all day, and how is Ernest Shepard now friends with 8 new girls on Facebook everyday? Beats me.
Now I've said my intro too many times to actually mean it. But if I was to talk about being involved with NSO, it makes total sense. It was definitely "a great way to polish [my] interpersonal skills." And although all of us came from such different backgrounds, it was also a chance for me "to meet people that share [my] interests." And I've definitely made friends that will "last [me] a lifetime." The intro is hackneyed, dear freshmen, but true. NSOlove.
KU's 2011-2012 Orientation Assistants and Orientation Coordinators |
All the beautiful people at prom. July '2011. |