“It’s our fortieth college reunion, and we’re planning to have an Author Book Panel. Would you like to be a part of it? We have three men, and I mentioned your name as an author. We should have a woman, too. Would you like to join?” my college friend messaged me. We had taken several dance courses together. She went on to become an anesthesiologist. I went on to become a psychotherapist with a specialty in trauma. I paused. What an honor to be asked to be on a panel with three highly accomplished writers— two from major newspapers and one a liberal arts professor at an esteemed university, all of whom, at least in part, wrote for a living.

It had been forty years since I had returned to ‘the Hill’ as Hamilton College is fondly called by its alums and others. The closest I had gotten to it since graduation was seeing the smash Broadway show by the same name, which more than likely made the small upstate New York college founded in 1793 that much more popular. Going back to the Hill was a big deal for me. I never felt quite like I fit in while I was there, but I wanted to be on the book panel to discuss my debut novel, “Klara’s Truth,” and my husband was coming with me. I won’t say I was not more than a bit intimidated by the other panel members’ professional backgrounds, having only recently become a published author myself. They could not have been kinder in accepting me as a peer, and the audience, filled with our classmates, was quite welcoming.

I entered Hamilton College in the Fall of 1982. Unbeknownst to me, my year was only the fourth freshman coed class to attend Hamilton as a coeducational institution. Kirkland College was an all-women’s college on the other side of College Hill Road, which officially welcomed its first class of women in 1968, and sadly closed its doors a mere ten years later, in 1978, due to financial issues. It was then absorbed by Hamilton College, its all-male counterpart at that time. I spent all but the first two months of my freshman year on the Kirkland side (away at a larger university my junior year). The then Keehn Co-op was situated there, and that was my home for most of my college career.

I now understand why the college scene was so heavily driven by fraternity life, given that it had only just become coed. I knew some of Kirkland’s history, but not much. It was not openly discussed. Now, there is a whole exhibit about Kirkland, and reunions for Kirkland graduates through 1978. Hamilton, like me, had experienced its own growing pains, further incorporating Kirkland’s legacy, erecting many new buildings, and increasing its student body.

From the little I knew about Kirkland College, I had a sense when I was at Hamilton that I would have fit in better there. I spent much of my time in the Co-op, which had its own dining hall, for which the students who resided there were responsible for coordinating. Most of all, it was my home. Although I was not a Dead Head, one could hear the Grateful Dead’s music blaring from many rooms at the time. Other than for some of my courses, especially in psychology, I rarely spent time in the stately buildings on the Hamilton side, built almost two hundred years earlier. Although, yes, I did on occasion venture into a fraternity house.

A few days after returning home from the reunion, I reflected on my trip down memory lane, recognizing just how much I had evolved throughout the years. As a 17- to 21-year-old at Hamilton, I could never have imagined being on an author book panel like this one. I recall my heart thumping when I raised my hand to speak in class, particularly in a larger one, in awe of those who could easily engage in public speaking. At that time, I often wore flowy skirts with work boots and danced as my form of creative expression. I’ve long given the flowy skirts and work boots away, simply donning a couple of extra subtle ear piercings, and while I practice yoga and regularly exercise, writing is now my chosen form of expression. Although I still enjoy dance, my body does not move as it did when I was 20-years old. Whose does?

As for my 40th Hamilton reunion, I am so glad I went, and it was a pleasure to see and feel welcomed by my classmates, despite not knowing many of them as well when I was a student. I now recognize that much of my discomfort was due to my own lack of confidence and openness to others at the time, as much or more than any actual differences. My Hamilton legacy experience has now become one of more acceptance and maturity.