It is inevitable that as high school juniors and seniors search for the college of their dreams, they tour several options. I was not an exception to this. The first school I toured was Arizona State University in Phoenix, Arizona. I absolutely adored the campus and I loved what the area had to offer even more, including a set of grandparents not quite an hour from campus.

At the end of the day, my Mom asked me “So, can you see yourself here?” I heard myself answer ‘Yes.’ but I knew it wasn’t true, I just assumed that it was such a large step in life that I wasn’t going to be able to picture myself anywhere until I actually moved in. I walked away from that tour certain that ASU was where I was going to find myself studying the following year.

I was so certain in fact, that I didn’t believe anymore touring of schools was necessary. Not even a month later, the only reason I found myself driving to the University of Iowa was because my Aunt (a woman whom I very much admire, respect and love) believed that I should at least give the school a chance; and, inevitably, my Mom agreed.

My Mom and I arrived the night before our tour was scheduled to begin, so we wandered the downtown strip of Iowa City to familiarize ourselves with the community around campus. I, of course, posed next to the famous, ceramic Herky by the Pentacrest with a genuine smile on my face for a photo. (All of my smiles at ASU had felt more forced as I don’t particularly enjoy my picture taken.)

We then continued to wander aimlessly searching for a restaurant that looked both unique and yummy for dinner. It didn't take us long to unanimously agree on Masala Indian. One of the best decisions of my life! I was unfamiliar with most all the food on the menu, so I enlisted the help of the owner. He asked me if I like spicy or not and departed to the kitchen. He even recommended an appetizer. I’ll be honest, none of the food looked anything like I expected it to… but, it was nothing short of scrumptious.

When we were done with our dinners, the owner began a conversation with the both of us. He asked me if I was a student at Iowa and, despite how set I was on Arizona, I found the words “No, but hopefully next year,” slipping out of my mouth without any thought. The conversation ended with him informing me that he hoped to see me on campus next year, and that if I didn’t want to walk down to the restaurant in the midst of winter, he would have someone deliver to my dorm. That sounded like a perfectly splendid idea to me.

The next morning, I arrived at the IMU, checked in and met my tour guide for the day. His name was Dan and he was a sophomore at the University, studying elementary education. Dan was a fantastic tour guide- personable, kind, funny and had a plethora of knowledge in regards to the University. I walked away feeling like I had spent a lot more time than merely a day on campus.

Later that day, I toured the journalism building as I was considering a major in journalism and I met with one one the head honchos at the Adler School for Journalism & Mass Communication. His name was Paul Jensen. He gave me, along with the only other girl on the tour, an exclusive look at the Daily Iowan and free t-shirts. His enthusiasm towards his job, the school and the community was contagious. And, he was the first person to tell me that I could double-major in biology (pre-med track) and journalism. Every advisor before him, led me to believe that a double major was simply not doable. This may seem like a miniscule conversation to some of you, but to me… it was life-changing. I’ve always known what I wanted and that I could achieve it with a strong work ethic; so, to finally be looked at as an individual rather than just a number, was incredible.

Before my Mom & I left for home that evening, I purchased a yellow hoodie with a large hawkeye on the chest and we stopped for froyo. We spoke a long time about how different the University of Iowa was compared to Arizona State University. We talked about how Iowa for no explicable reason felt like home, we talked about how I felt more grounded at Iowa and we talked about how I could honestly see myself living at Iowa in a year.

The next morning, despite how sleep deprived I was from the previous night’s drive, I began my application to become a Hawkeye. I finished it in less than a week while at my Aunt’s house. I still had not fully decided which school I wanted to commit to, and to be honest, part of me was hoping that one of the schools would decline my application so that I wouldn’t have to make the decision; but, I knew that I would regret it if I didn’t at least submit an application to both schools.

Not quite a week later, I was wrapped in a towel walking from my bathroom to my bedroom when my mom stopped me in the hallway. “I have an email that you need to read,” she informed me. “I need you to tell me what you make of it,” she said. She had a grave look on her face and I was fairly certain that whatever the email said, it wasn’t good. “You should probably sit down for this,” she just wouldn’t stop! I sat down on my bed and braced myself as she handed me her phone.

"Hello Alexandria,

We are excited to welcome you to the Hawkeye family!"

I couldn’t quite comprehend what I was reading, but I also couldn’t read any farther. I instinctively began to cry. I do believe that was the first time in my life that I cried from pure happiness. I had been accepted and it hadn’t even crossed my mind that I had not yet heard back from ASU. It just kind of seemed like fate, despite the fact that the email had incorrectly been sent to my mother’s email rather than my own.

I did spend a few days mulling over committing as it was truly a life-changing decision, but the answer was pretty obvious. I worried over the decision to commit to Iowa, but I never in those few days leaned in the direction of ASU. And, once I committed, it was such a relief. They wanted me. I wanted them. And it wasn’t even the first day of my senior year of highschool.

Months later, when I returned to campus for a more detailed tour for already committed students, I ate at Masala once again. But GET THIS, the owner remembered me and asked if I had applied yet. His genuine excitement when I informed him of my commitment was a shock to me. How could a near stranger be so glad to have me around? And how could he possibly have remembered me?

Shortly after lunch I sat through a lecture that mimicked what a course on media may look like. (That was the purpose of this visit, to get a feel for what some classes may be like.) And on my way out the door, there was my journalism master. The one, THE ONLY Mr. Paul Jensen. And GET THIS, he remembered me too! I was utterly shocked. That was the first day I began to sincerely comprehend just how amazing everyone in the Hawkeye community is and just what a strong, caring community it is overall.

The thing is, the Hawkeye community doesn’t merely exist while on campus. It exists across the globe. And the spirit of the Tiger Hawk lives on in the hearts of students, alumni, fans and family of the preceding. Don’t believe me? Listen to the craziness that pursued in the next months of my senior year.

That one sweatshirt I purchased during my first tour went with me everywhere. I can’t describe why except to say that I was filled with a sort of overwhelming pride each and every moment I bore that hawkeye on my chest. So, it wasn’t exactly a surprise when I found myself states away from home, still wearing that sweatshirt. I was in Myrtle Beach, walking along a boardwalk when a deep voice bellowed out “GO HAWKS!” It took me a moment to register what I was hearing, to comprehend that the only possible person this strange man could be shouting for the attention of was me. As I turned to see who this stranger was, that, evidently, I had a connection with… I was baffled to see a man at least 3 times my age grinning at me, arms open wide. (Not for a hug, but more like he was inviting me over.) We talked for a solid 45 minutes before we parted ways. Come to find out, he was on vacation with his family but grew up in Iowa and was a long time Hawks fan. Walking away from this man was the first moment I realized just how far-reaching this incredibly special, and unique, Iowan community of hawkeyes is. It extends far beyond merely the students on campus, though that alone would be miraculous.

A few short months later, I found myself in my hometown in Wisconsin working on AP Literature homework when a woman approached me. “Are you a Hawkeye?” She so casually asked me, with a sort of excited smile on her face. I didn’t realize that my lanyard with my keys was in sight. I returned her smile, eager to hear what stories she had to share with me. Turned out, both of her daughters attended the University of Iowa. The oldest graduated just recently in 2016. She told me how much fun they both had there and described exactly the community that I’ve had the joy of experiencing over the last few months.

Finally, just short of a month before I moved into the University of Iowa, I found myself travelling across country. Of course, months after having committed, I had acquired quite the collection of spirit wear to sport my school colors. My original sweatshirt, having been battered & beaten from my wearing it nearly everywhere I went, had been retired to a pajama top; however, I had found a black zip up with a small Hawkeye emblem on the left chest that I adored just as much, if not more. Being that it was one of my most comfortable clothing items, I had thrown it on to travel in. (Go figure!) Once again, states away from home, I heard “GO HAWKS!” Except this time, it took me no time at all to realize that I was the intended audience of this shout; and, better yet, I knew the correct response. “On Iowa!” I yelled without an ounce of hesitation. Amidst an entire sea of people and I was beyond proud to identify as a member of this indescribably amazing community.

I have now completed my first semester at the University of Iowa and never once (okay, maybe just once when it fell below zero and started to snow) have I questioned whether or not I have chosen the right University for me. We have a motto at Iowa that says “Hawks Help Hawks” and although at first I believed this to be simply a cheesy tagline, I quickly came to find that it is the farthest thing from it. It is completely, and utterly, in every possible sense a slogan that students, faculty and community members live by and it’s probably one of my favorite things about this community.

My winter break has almost concluded now so the days of my parents cooking for me are almost over; but, I am ecstatic to return to the home I have found and I am so beyond grateful to truly believe in the deepest depths of me that it is exactly that. Iowa City is home.

***Disclaimer: This article is in no way meant to offend, berate or insult ASU. It is simply the story of my journey to find the right University for me and my discovery of the community associated with my choice.***