Goodbyes are always the hardest — My farewell to NTU
Four years ago next week I stepped inside Nottingham Trent’s (NTU) Newton building to complete my registration for my degree. If you ever are in Nottingham on week day I would highly recommend checking architecture out, as it always brings a smile to my face. Even on the busiest day I take time to appreciate the space, and from that first day to my nearly last at NTU feel a sense of joy whenever I enter. Newton sums up my whole experience at Trent, part joy, part wonder, part glad I came along for the journey. And on the 20th September 2020 it will be over.
Ever since I was knee high I have been sentimental, or more precisely, I have allowed myself long goodbyes. That sense of knowing something is about to end, when you are in the twilight of going, but not quite there. When the hand is on the door, but you don’t quite want to step through to the next phase. That is me right now. I have so much coming in the next six weeks that come 1st September I will not really have time to breath, but for now I have the memories.
Times spent in long and glorious conversations, times spent walking through the rain glad to get into Confetti, and the serendipity of meeting folk who changed my life. At 38 it is hard to place where I am in the tapestry that has come before, for I have travelled under so many bridges, yet my overwhelming emotion is one of accomplishment. At finishing my undergrad and Masters, at travelling abroad three times, at playing hockey for Trent, and, most importantly, making friendships that will last.
My long goodbye effectively began at the beginning of C-19 lockdown, where all the pillars of my university life ghosted away. The place I miss the most is Boots Library. I gave campus tours as part of my role as student ambassador, and there was always a sense of glee every time I took a tour inside, as it is something quite marvellous. NTU has a way of understated architecture, and Boots has this quintessence I can’t translate. Many a late night, and the odd all-nighter; the geese sculptures were my wing people for my undergraduate degree, and oddly I have missed them writing up my Masters research project. Comfort geese for the soul.
All things do come to an end, all things flow away into the silver moonlit shore. There is joy in progression, but the small things remain. Like geese. Like playing hockey on a Saturday morning at Clifton. Like knowing people’s name and having a positive reputation with staff. Possibly, is it that I found a home at NTU, a place that felt both willing to let me stretch my wings and come back to roost? Yes, quite possibly.
For all my flights of fancy, for all the accolades and amazing experiences I have done, it is definitely the people who I met along the way that will linger the longest. There are too many to mention, you all know who you are, and the thing that shines brightest is the empathy, compassion, and sense of humour you all have, mixed in with dedication, professionalism, and willingness to go the extra mile where needed. I have seen the curtain pulled back, and NTU-as-Oz is more than smoke and mirrors, it really is a place that dedicates itself to making our student journey as best it can be. Our Yellow Brick Roads may lead ever onwards, but you definitely gave me the ruby slippers to click my way into my own personal Kansas.
Graduation is more than letting go and sailing off into the great beyond. I still feel attached, rooted, in an institution that has allowed me to grow beyond what I expected. This long good bye may just be years in the making, as there is always the possibility I will come back to teach or more. That is a door I may walk through. For now, I am on the threshold, looking back at four years well spent, grateful for everything and every opportunity. I just need to step through and see where the next phase will take me. Shame I can’t get one more afternoon in Boots, in Newton or out at Clifton. So long Trent, and thanks for all the fish.
