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Faculty Center: One last look

I went to UP yesterday to fix my clearance; and on my way to the OUR I just had to pass by this place again. It's been more than a year since the fire, and it still stings. I was there that night. My friends and I went to accompany another friend, a professor at the History department who thought he could still salvage his things.

As I stood in the same spot I did a year ago, I was again reminded of everything that was lost in the flames - records, undergrad theses, thousands of books, costumes, scripts, poems, novels, works of art, memories. Stories. Corners and corridors that witnessed our every failure and joy. Sometimes, I still wonder, how can its end be so cruel? To have left absolutely nothing behind but ashes?

I stood in front of it yesterday with a heavy heart - heavier than my usual sentiments of missing CAL as I crawled my way through law school. Turns out, today the building is being demolished. FC was home, perhaps even more so than Malcolm ever was. And to lose it so permanently just as my stay in UP was ending - it felt like salt on my battle wounds.

But if there's anything I learned as a student of this college, it's that there is beauty to be found in starting over. Stories end, time passes. Life comes and goes, often taking away parts of us we can never get back. The most we can hope for is that this sadness will eventually carry us through. To new narratives, new perspectives, new meanings. For now, we grieve. Tomorrow - as with all tomorrows - we will pick up our pens and write again.


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