Easter Eggs In The Slums

The following reflection was written in 2003, when I was between 25 and 26 years old.


As the bare-bones structures of the new townhouses began to rise around the aging Cluster Houses where we lived during our Junior year, the Clusters themselves and the common courtyard they shared began to look rather slummy. Even with the brand-new buildings nowhere near complete, the Cluster houses seemed like the decayed and decrepit lower-class section of the small city that was the Bradford campus.

It was the perfect setting for an impromptu Easter egg hunt.

I don’t recall anyone being terribly excited about our the brilliant plan the conglomerate of Cluster House resident advisors had cooked up. Maybe that’s because I focused mostly on myself on days like that, and I know for sure I wasn’t really excited about it.

I’m not even bothering to mention how odd it was that a bunch of 20 year olds were roaming about their campus looking for Easter eggs. I mean, isn’t that an activity best left to small children? Or am I just crazy for thinking that.

Kristie and Christine were the RAs who arranged the whole thing, if I remember correctly. The whole gang of us went out there and did it, even if we weren’t happy about it and that gang included Stacey, probably Russel, maybe Monica, and Stef and I for sure.