Yesterday was the first snow day of the spring semester for the University of Connecticut, and I consider that a very special event on campus. I can recall a specific memory from each and every snow day I’ve had here in my two years as a student because it feels different to walk around and experience UConn when this place seems more like the Arctic than Connecticut. This campus changes when the snow hits, and I don’t just mean that in a physical sense, but moreso in a metaphorical one. As I write this piece looking out of the fourth-floor window of the library onto the scene before me blanketed in white, it’s hard not to reflect on the nature of these days and the importance they have for what it means to be a college student.
I think the part which always gets me about a snow day is the way that so many people seem to revert back to ever so slightly more childish versions of themselves just for a little bit. Walking through UConn on a snow day will show several different groups on average having a snowball fight, going sledding, chasing each other through the snow, drawing something phallic on the track next to Werth tower and many other fun winter activities. Really, if you’ve never done any or all of those things here at Storrs on a cold February day, I’d say you’re missing out.
It all adds a sense of whimsy to the air that often is sucked out of it by the constant pressure of classes and the other responsibilities of life. The classic childhood wonders are reclaimed, if just for a moment. As college students we exist in a weird break in life on the cusp of adulthood but also really not at all, yet it’s moments like these that remind us that our youth is a choice we make.
In these moments, I also find kindness and connection among others like no other days. On a snow day, people start coming together in ways they might not be willing to otherwise. When someone inevitably slips and falls on the constantly icy ramp going up towards Werth, people come up to help while focusing on not losing their own footing. I’ve seen groups of people meet each other for the first time, bonding while making huge sculptures in the snow together. On Horsebarn Hill, I’ve watched people share their sleds for a few good runs with those who didn’t have them. There’s just something about the shared experience of a specific place and time combined with a low stress environment that leads to an increased willingness to break down social barriers to connect with others. Maybe we ought to treat every day like a snow day?
Yet, it’s also important to recognize the privilege required to enjoy things in this way. It’s easy to enjoy the cold when you have the ability to just as easily walk inside where it is warm, which, for many, is not a luxury they can afford. I think of the unhoused populations all across Connecticut who will, due to this state’s overburned shelter system, be outside tonight. On a less extreme level, this even applies to the many students who will be picking up shifts at dining halls or facilities operations. I can imagine it must put a significant damper on a good snow day when you have shift and are forced to just hear about all the fun things going on outside. It’s not right to forget about them either.
It’s not often I write a personal column like this in the newspaper, but this opinion of mine is both strongly felt and deeply personal enough to the point where it’s impossible to remove myself from it. Although this article will come out when classes are back in session, I hope everybody keeps in mind the value of a snow day the next time one rolls around. I hope everyone got some time to be out in the world, to feel the cold on their skin, to create, to play, to connect and to be alive. I hope all my friends had a good snow day, and I hope everyone I don’t know did too.