Winterfest: a celebration planned by students for students

I glance at my opponent, Eli Crowder '12, wearing a large, tan, plush body buildtfor impact—an almost perfect reflection of myself. There is no referee to count down, and Eli, who plans on attending medical school next year, wobbles towards me at an alarming pace. The fire in her eyes is unmistakable. I bound towards her, matching her intensity and we both roll over upon impact.  I lay on my back, helpless, surrendering to the padded girth of my rotund, plastic body. I cannot move my arms or legs; there is no hope of getting back on my feet, which I can't even see over my tan belly. Yet I am laughing harder and faster. THIS IS SO MUCH FUN, I yell out to the buzzing world around me.

This is the third Winterfest, the third opportunity for students to don a huge sumo suit, to shoot tiny basketballs into white nets, to sing karaoke, and hear live music. Winterfest reminds me of how all of us students at Davidson are straddling the line between childhood and adulthood. In my hands, I hold proof, a photo of my twenty-two year old self crammed into a two person photo booth with three other people.

Shamita Punjabi '12 is in the picture with me. While waiting in line, I pull out my recorder and ask, "Are you having fun?" "I'm having so much fun," she yells back, putting forth a little extra excitement for the recorder in front of her. "I see everyone here!" And that's the beauty of Winterfest, the one detail everyone mentions: This big event has pulled us together in one space. All around are friends I don't see as much as I'd like, which worries me now that time is running out. But, tonight, I'm only thinking about kid stuff, like cramming into a photo booth.

 Shamita bops around to the music, showing off the fresh heart tattoo on her arm. Next year, she's also going to medical school.

On the other side of the photo booth, I spot the same man who fixed the basketball nets. He works for Your Entertainment Source, the company that brought in all the games.  In his line of work, he sees college kids getting airbrush tats "Pretty much every day of the week," he says. But at Davidson, "Everybody's real crazy, especially over there with the sumo suits," he says. "They're getting into that." As I turn off my recorder and thank him for the interview, I realize that next year he and I will be a part of the same job market. I show him the prints from the photo booth and he just laughs at our crazy faces.

Earlier that morning, tons of students were blowing up balloons and hanging banners in the union; genuine acts of comradery all before 10am on a Saturday. I ran in to Chelsie Sumner '12, the Union Board president, putting snowflakes on the Union glass doors. Chelsie is looking for jobs in the public health sector and is still deciding between a clinical or administrative role. For now, she continues to put up more snowflakes.

She, with Gerard Dash '12, SGA President and Blair Ford '14, PCC representative, led the Winterfest planning committee, which started planning last fall. It's difficult to articulate why she and the others have spent so much time planning this event. "I get a lot out of seeing people enjoying this something that I did," she offered.

Gerard, who has known and worked with Chelsea for the past four years, tells me that he'll always remember the amount planning and energy that went into Winterfest. But Gerard also highlights why so many of us seniors selflessly offer ourselves to Davidson, especially this last semester: "It's great for students to see something put on by other students," he said. "We're doing this for each other." Gerard's looking into higher education administration for next year, clearly a good fit.

Senior year makes everyday at Davidson an ultimatum: this is the last time you'll register for classes; this is the last time you'll have a month long break; this is the last time you'll go to Winterfest. And the effect of living the last days of a closing chapter is to bring forth an intensity to everything we do and to sumo wrestle with friends. At Winterfest, I forgot about the copious amount of time I'm spending looking for jobs in advertising. Instead I relished in the fact that I was, for the first and last time, a sumo wrestler and senior at Davidson College.