My story at Marquette tumultuously began in the Spring of 2021. After COVID-19 delayed my plans to begin at another university, I reevaluated and applied to Marquette. Freshman year was hard, I lived alone and didn’t meet anybody.

I started my sophomore year in the same room, with the same company: myself. I’d never been left to my own devices before; I’d never been truly alone. It was suffocating and heavy. One day in September 2021, I broke down. I left Wells Street Hall and began to wander. I sobbed as I made my way down Wisconsin Avenue. I sobbed as I traversed the streets of downtown Milwaukee with no destination, only desperation.

I found myself by the mast of the Milwaukee Art Museum, but the white wing-like structure wasn’t what had caught my eye, it was colors in the sky. There were bursts of yellows and oranges and blues and greens. As I made my way to Veterans Park, I realized what they were: kites. There were whales swimming amongst the clouds, hearts racing one another and children struggling to get their kites to catch wind. I was mesmerized by the playful togetherness and the whimsical collage drifting in the wind. I had stumbled upon the Frank Motts Annual Kite Festival. I picked a tree, somewhat secluded from the festival goers, and I watched. I stood as a solemn observer of the beauty unfolding above me. Somehow, some way, I felt a little better.

Sophomore year drifted on and suddenly I was a junior. I had friends and an educational path I was passionate about, but that September, I felt myself crumble. Feeling lost, I got into my car and started to drive with no destination, only desperation. I drove and cried and screamed to music until I saw something that silenced me: familiar colors in the sky. I let out a hysteric laugh as I realized how scheduled my mental breakdowns were. Once again, I positioned myself beneath my tree and bore witness to the Frank Mots Annual Kite Festival. The coincidence of the situation was enough to lift my spirits ever so slightly.

Somehow, it was my senior year. I felt unrecognizable from the Serena who wandered around the city. I was happy, confident and sure of my being. As the second weekend in September approached, I was prepared. I got into my car and had a destination: the Frank Mots Annual Kite Festival. As I walked through Veterans Park, I passed by my usual remote tree. I walked until I reached the Gift of Wings kite store, and I bought a kite. I’d never flown a kite before, but my fellow festival goers were ready and willing to offer support. When my kite caught wind and began to soar, I watched with bewilderment as my ­kite joined the whales and hearts and children’s kites.

The most valuable thing I have learned throughout the past 3.5 years is the power of making myself happy. People can be cruel, classes can be hard and the only consistent thing I have is myself. I have built my toolbox of tactics to fulfill myself and now, two weeks away from graduating college, I feel ready to soar.

This story was written by Serena Pace. She can reached at [email protected].