First Group Meeting


Tuesday, around 11:00 in the morning I’m standing outside the classroom door waiting for my professor to arrive. I’m usually early only because I have another class from 9:10 to 10:30, then common hour starts. There were probably three other students also waiting for class to begin. Exchanging pleasantries every now and then with the others students I noticed one girl sitting on the floor with a black one inch three ring binder on her lap. She opens her binder and begins to take out what appears to be copies of her essay. I didn’t think anything of it at first but then I remembered we were supposed to have a group meeting in the near future. In my mind I’m thinking, “Is it today or Thursday? I hope its Thursday because I don’t have my copies for my group members.” I quickly blurt out to a fellow classmate, “Hey, are we supposed to be getting together in groups today? Yeah, aren’t you in my group?” Damn, I look at my watch; it is five minutes until 11:15 (class begins). Weighing my options of being late to class or not having my assignment I decide to make a run for the border. My strategy for choosing an apartment close to campus had paid off. I get home in five minutes or so.
I make it back to campus and low & behold there is not one available parking spot in front of the BH building. After circling for almost ten minutes hoping someone would magically appear and start to back out I give up and drive to the science side of the campus. I finally find a parking spot and rush back to class.
I’m glad I chose to go home and print out twenty pages (5 copies) of my masterpiece. I had no idea of what a great learning experience I was about to encounter. Who would have thought the personal essay would have been so personal. My group members and I all wrote very touching, private stories about an episode or phase in our life.
Sitting and listening to another person read their story aloud captured my attention immediately. I was listening to a part of their life and connecting with these strangers on another level beyond just being classmates. I became the best friend who they confided in, honored to be the sole recipient of this privileged information. Whether it was dealing with the loss of a brother, the birth of a child, having a tough childhood, or having a broken heart, we all wrote truths that were locked away in our hearts for who knows how long.
After this experience you can’t help but to feel a connection on a deeper level with the other group members. I have empathy for each one of my group member’s essays. I don’t know if the other groups have experienced this on their first session or even if my group members have the same feelings as I do.