When the Campus Grows Quiet: East Texas A&M in December
A portrait of ETAMU as the semester fades and the holidays arrive.
During the spring and fall semesters—and even during the more relaxed summer semesters—the East Texas A&M University campus is alive with movement and activities. The walkways are like crowded streams, with students, faculty and staff moving from one point to another like busy schools of trout.
Students hustle between classes, backpacks bouncing, frozen lattes in their hands, headphones in their ears. Some sit under shade trees or at the Lakeside Pavilion or on the Great Lawn, reading from assigned books, writing essays on laptops, and scratching out calculations on notepads.
Snippets of varied conversations can be heard amongst the flow of students:
“Did you finish your lab report?”
“I didn't know there was a quiz today!”
“Let's meet at Mugs after class.”
Student organizations gather at the campus crossroads, handing out stickers, snacks, and conversation. The Pride Marching Band practices outside the Music Building, and their notes travel far and wide.
Skateboards, scooters, and electric bicycles zip around footed travelers. Ambassadors lead groups of prospective students, along with parents, on tours of their future university. President Mark Rudin traverses campus in a golf cart, stopping frequently to greet and chat with students.
Memorial Stadium echoes with shouts and whistles as athletes prepare for upcoming competitions. The pleasing scent of smoldering charcoal is in the air, as one department or another grills burgers for the student body. Birds and squirrels swoop and scamper from one tree to another. From every direction, the East Texas A&M campus is alive with the hustle and bustle of university life.
But when the semester has drawn to a close, particularly after the fall semester, and when the Sun has taken its leave for the day, with Christmas lights aglow, the campus takes on a different, more peaceful tone.
Solitudinal sounds touch the ear. Like the flags lapping gently against their poles with the evening breeze. Like rainwater dripping lazily through the downspouts of dormitory buildings. Like the crunch of leaves beneath lonely footfalls. The rumble of a single car engine on the other side of campus. The fountains of Charles S. Garvin Lake issuing a constant rush of soothing white noise. The hum of generators that all but disappears when the semester is in full swing.
In the December nighttime, campus glows like a Thomas Kinkade painting. The bright yellow windows of the Ferguson Social Sciences Building stare down on damp, glistening walkways. The amphitheater is lighted and silent, longing for a one act play or musical performance. Streetlamps shine a protective radiance along sidewalks and courtyards.
Then, of course, there's the Christmas lights.
Tree trunks lining University Drive gleam with holiday spirit—a winding road of luminescence. The McDowell Administration Building, too, is lined with lights, and a glowing wreath rests proudly above the main entrance. The entrance signs near the Welcome Center are dressed with garland and lights, more welcoming than ever.
The stresses of a late term paper or missed assignment are distant memories on this December campus. Gone are the hoots and laughter of lively students. An occasional professor emerges from their department building with a look of relief. A lone jogger trots across campus with a smile, his sneakers tapping rhythmically on the concrete.
In these quiet December evenings—when Christmas lights glow across campus and the last footsteps fade into the night—East Texas A&M takes a breath, grateful for another semester of learning, growth and community.
May the holiday season bring peace, warmth and renewal. When the new year dawns, we'll be here—lights on, doors open—ready to begin the next chapter together.
Happy Holidays, Lions!