#iamnotredame

"I've heard differing opinions on transfer students. Some people tell you not to bring it up. But I'm not ashamed of it. Plus, I think it shows that I love my school that much more.

"Transferring to Notre Dame after my freshman year was one of the hardest things I've done. I previously played varsity soccer and had a knee injury, and I thought to myself: is this it? Looking around, I loved my college and my friends, but my gut wondered if the image of college in my head would ever fit my reality. My roommate my freshman year joked that she always knew I'd go to Notre Dame: apparently the first thing I talked to her about was going to a Notre Dame game, even despite being on the soccer team.

"It's tough to miss the experiences Notre Dame students have their freshman year. I think it could have gone smoother than it did. Because of soccer, I'd never been to a freshman orientation before, while many girls in my hallway were friends because of orientation experiences. On top of that, I was injured and had a brace on my leg, so my first few weeks at Notre Dame were limited to the community on the first floor of my dorm. I made friends in class and participated as much as I could in dorm activities, but I found myself drawn to my transfer family. We share experiences in a very specific way, and it brings us closer together.

"The transfer students come from all over and are placed in different dorms, but we're a family. Before I arrived for my sophomore year, I got a call from a Notre Dame student who said she'd be my transfer 'mom', and told me who my transfer 'dad' was. Now I have transfer 'brothers,' 'sisters,' 'nieces,' and 'nephews.' It's totally normal to us to talk about each other with family terminology.

"But in addition to being the hardest thing I've ever done, transferring to Notre Dame was also the most rewarding thing I've ever done. I was always interested in the London program at Notre Dame, especially because it's an opportunity you don't find anywhere else. This has been an opportunity for me to make British friends through my internship, yet become closer to Notre Dame students in London, since our specific program has its own dorm and classroom buildings. I'm making friends and becoming close to people with opportunities I wouldn't have had elsewhere.

"The day I moved into my dorm, I was nervous about explaining my invisible illness to my roommate.  Over the past few years, I had spent time in and out of hospitals, undergoing treatment, and on medication for my Crohn's Disease. I wanted to make sure my roommate understood the complications and the lifestyle I was going to have to lead in college. But as soon as I met my roommate and her parents, they began to explain my roommate's invisible illness to me! I got so excited that we had this in common, and we immediately began sharing stories.

"It's through connections like this that I've been able to connect with a circle of people like me at Notre Dame--people with invisible illnesses. Although we have a variety of diagnoses, we connect on a very specific and personal level. Soon after meeting my roommate, I heard from friends and from friends-of-friends about other people with restricted diets, people who couldn't get out of bed, people who were on the same medications I was. It became this 'tribe,' if you will, of people we know we can talk to. When we get together for meals, it's hilarious: there are so many food restrictions that it's tough to find something we can all eat together.

"One difficult part of spending a semester in London is being apart from that community. I had to explain my Crohn's to a new set of people. They saw someone who, from the outside, looked fine. My friends and I always cite Christine Miseradino's 'spoon theory' to explain how daily activities can be immensely difficult for someone with Crohn's, or with anything else. When I talk about my Crohn's, I've been asked in earnest if I'm dying. This must come from someone who just can't imagine what it's like. Those are the times I wish I had that friend group back with me, those who understand what I'm going through.

"My first semester abroad was much harder than this semester. I think some of that can be attributed to missing the football season. So much of the fall was spent thinking of home and struggling with those feelings. After the fall semesters, I had a break month, where I traveled to something like 18 cities in 29 days. It was ridiculous, I know. But in that span of time, it kind of hit me: I can learn to make any place my home. It might not always be easy or fast, but I am capable of it.

"Now that my spring semester in Rome is coming to a close, I will admit I'm ready to see America again. This is partly because I haven't actually been home for over a year, since I also worked abroad last summer. Whether it's Notre Dame or my hometown, I've always felt that a place I call 'home' cares about me. Notre Dame is welcoming and warm. You truly feel that the community cares about you and your well-being. It's an important, huge, and hard transition to come to a city where that isn't true. In a huge population, everyone has a life to live, and not everyone is interested in your life and story. It's hard. But it's a growing experience, and I say that with confidence.

"I only actually visited the Colosseum this semester, and I've been here for more than half a year! I finally decided to immerse myself fully. I visit an Italian coffee shop before my history class every week. There, I practice my Italian with the old man whose family runs the restaurant. He's constantly correcting me, but I'm doing it. I'm learning.

"This semester, I've had to define what Notre Dame means to me. I grew up with Notre Dame all my life, since I grew up in South Bend. Notre Dame has been a part of my earliest memories, from feeding the ducks with my mom to learning to ride a bike. (The quads aren't easy!) This semester, I'm studying with two other Notre Dame students in Norwich, England -- where nobody has even heard of Notre Dame. That's a huge change. All the memories, feelings, and lessons I associate with Notre Dame are not universally understood. I'm learning how to define them.

"I was the only person in my family to go to Notre Dame. In fact, it had been my dream for a long time to attend Boston College. Then Notre Dame kind of...happened. But it was an unforgettable and life-changing experience.

"I worked for four years in a work study at Notre Dame, and the wife of my manager had connections in London. When I told her I was going to graduate school in London, she mentioned that she knew people in the London program and would bring my name up for an AR application.

"Months passed...and I was pretty sure they'd forgotten about me. I was in Boston for the summer, working at an internship, and still didn't know what I was doing in terms of London housing. Then I got a call from the London office for Notre Dame, asking if I was still interested. I ended up going to London three weeks after that call, rather than three months. I arrived in Conway Hall a day before the semester's students did.

"My very first year here was a whirlwind for me. My master's program was unbelievably demanding, and I was surprised by some AR duties that I hadn't seen at the main Notre Dame campus. On my nights off, my friends love to hear stories from being on-duty. I won't go into detail, but some of the more entertaining ones involve walking in on unfortunate situations and a slightly-disturbing instance of defecation.

"I was born and raised in a Catholic family. My parents lived their faith wholeheartedly. And when I say 'lived their faith,' I mean that they would often take in a homeless individual on the street for a shower at our house. Growing up, this was the norm to me.

"I was a history major in uni, and grappled with my faith at that time. I asked myself: is my faith real? Whose it is: my parents, or mine? I stayed involved with Catholic organizations at uni to continue exploring my faith."

"The very first time I met my wife, it was in Oxford over Thanksgiving break. My best friend spent a semester of undergrad abroad at Oxford and became friends with her; when I visited my friend over break, I was introduced to the woman who is now my wife. It was informal, and in passing -- she didn't even remember that it happened. At the time, it seemed to be an inconsequential meeting. Six years later, we were reconnected by the mutual friend, as I was spending the summer in Europe. She and I went to dinner and attended a concert. Two weeks later, the day before I flew back to the States, she and I took a walk along the Thames, in the neighborhood we now live in.

"We stayed in touch via Skype and email. We were only able to visit occasionally over the next few months. We reached a point when we decided we either needed to spend less time communicating, or meet each other in person and discuss the matter ourselves. When we did meet face-to-face, we decided to try to make our relationship work.

"After all this time communicating across the ocean, I flew to the UK and proposed to her while we were taking a walk in Oxford, the very place we met originally. We were married in the States; we now live in the UK. And the very first place we lived together was in Conway Hall, Notre Dame's London dorm. Now, I live with my wife and twin boys in Conway as the rector of the building.

"We'll be the first to tell you that it's not easy. It's not easy to have relatives and friends who live in a different country; it's not easy to maintain a relationship over time when it's not face-to-face. But you learn from it. You grow from it.

          "What is a pet peeve of yours?"

"Easy: when people recite London's area code as 0207. It's 020, take a breath, and the next set of numbers starts with a 7. That's how they're divided. When someone divides them differently, it's especially difficult for me to remember due to my dyslexia."

          "You're dyslexic and you're a librarian? Can you tell me a little more about that?"

"I didn't learn how to read until I was around seven or eight. All my primary school teachers would laugh right now to know I'm a librarian, because reading was a struggle for me. But a teacher worked with me one-on-one to work on my reading skills and develop different strategies for managing my dyslexia. I typed, rather than hand-wrote, my tests--and ended up lugging around a giant computer the size of a desk every time I moved house. Even now, still use the strategies I learned then. In some ways, they've made me a better librarian, especially with copyediting.