Global Studies

An Era's Dawn

Amara walked out of her father's embrace into a different world. Thomas waved to her as she approached Winthrop Academy. The school's twin main buildings, made predominantly of white marble and red brick, gleamed starkly in the midday sun.

The buildings were several stories high and connected by a short walkway. Her eyes widened as she gazed at them, and she paused momentarily to take it all in. From a distance, all Amara heard was silence, punctuated by the faint buzzing of conversation closer to the buildings.

The north building, which housed the living quarters, was about thirty years newer, and both had been renovated several times, but much of the original nineteenth-century structures still stood. Even so, much of it looked different on the inside.

The sprawling green lawns surrounding the buildings were bustling with students.

As she approached, she heard the chatter of the conversations more clearly. They were all speaking English in different regional and foreign accents, and their words blended with each other to the extent that she could not make out anything.

Some of the students were standing in tight circles, talking with each other and occasionally laughing as if they knew each other already. Some shook hands with others, as if they had just met and the interaction went well. Others, like Amara, seemed overwhelmed and gaped at the places that were going to be their home for the next thirty-nine days; many of them stood at a distance, looking unsure of what their next move would be.

Wide-eyed and apprehensive yet full of wonder, she took her first steps onto the campus. As she approached the building, she noticed that the marble pillars just outside appeared rough to the touch and shiny. She took a deep breath and walked into the south building, which held the academic facilities, to register her name with the administration of the summer program.

Inside, the building was a lot less imposing. She was surrounded by what looked like a normal school building. As she walked down the entrance hall to the office on the first floor, she saw normal classrooms on either side. There was the unmistakable musty scent present, one of aged wood and hundred-year-old books. She relaxed her shoulders and gave a sigh of relief.

Other students filed past her, walking at their own pace. Some high-fived each other, welcoming one another back with familiarity after a year apart.

Still, some of them, too, looked like they were in unfamiliar territory. Amara smiled at them. She knew that if this was her old private school in Brazil, they'd be having friendly discussions already.

A friendly voice said, "Hi!"

Amara turned around and returned the greeting. She saw that she had a name tag. Hannah.

"Is this your first summer with us?"

"Yeah. You're Hannah?"

"Sure am. Hannah Byers. I'm one of the student ambassadors."

Hannah seemed very friendly and open. She smiled, which eased Amara's nerves. These people were obviously chosen for their interpersonal skills.

"I'm Amara. What's up?"

"I'm leading a campus tour at one-forty-five, if you want to join."

Amara checked her phone. That was in twenty-five minutes.

"I have nothing to do until the group meeting at six, so sure. Sorry, I'm just a little nervous," she said, as if her nervousness was noticeable.

"Totally understand," said Hannah. "I was nervous on my first day too."

At one-forty-five, Hannah, Amara, and six other new students walked around the buildings, and Hannah led the way both physically and conversationally. Amara was surprised at how narrow the corridors were, emblematic of old buildings.