Sidesteps at Six

First impressions formed in Lewis Hall set the tone for Kenyon moments both big and ordinary.

By Mia Huerta '25
Date

Doors slammed and the familiar creaking of the automatic door shuddered its breath against the humid air of August. Outside, it was dark and the liminal hallways of Lewis Hall shone eerily as soft laughter echoed from worlds away. 

“We’re in here! Just come back after you change!”

It was a Saturday night, sticky and exhausted from the first college parties, when I accompanied a group of friends back to the dorms. Familiar with some faces, anxious to meet others, I forced myself to speak, to make jokes and glowed a bit when I earned their laughter. But now I was in my room, changing into comfier clothes as we all decided to just lounge around the common room for the remainder of the night. It was almost one in the morning and I had not felt this excited all week. 

Making my way down a green-carpeted hallway, I wondered what awaited me in this room full of fellow first-years. I opened the door and almost tripped over a body leaning against the door. My shocked face earned a round of laughs and I joined these nine or so strangers on the floor. It was late, the smell of door-dashed Domino’s filled the air, the TV flashed with two boys fiercely playing Super Smash and the room overflowed with different conversations, music playing, foosball thwacking and the moment felt momentous and ordinary all at once. I talked to the girl next to me about a show I had thought no one knew and two other girls lit up as I mentioned a favorite album of theirs.

“It was late, the smell of door-dashed Domino’s filled the air, the TV flashed with two boys fiercely playing Super Smash and the room overflowed with different conversations, music playing, foosball thwacking and the moment felt momentous and ordinary all at once.”

Mia Huerta '25

Maybe I knew at the time that this night would quickly become the reality of our weekends, but those first impressions of my friends were imprinted on me forever. Three years later, we recall those awkward first moments, silly jokes and countless watch parties that occurred in the Lewis common room as the foundation for our time at Kenyon. Where would we be without those early college sensations — part excitement, part anxiety, part hope? I would be without my three housemates of the past two years and without the singular reason why the thrill of the fall semester buzzes in me at the end of every summer. Through heartbreak, celebration, or academic stress, Lewis Hall was a stony witness to a type of friendship never before experienced in some of our lives. Nearly all of us called it home for the year, but the routines and constancy of our college lives settled firmly in the dusty curtains and old furniture of the common room, and our adjustment to Kenyon was all the easier because of it. 

Even now, three years later, on the cusp of a new chapter of a life after Kenyon, we never forget our mantra of freshman year. While waiting  for the assembly of our group before heading to Peirce for dinner, a daily ritual of kindness and friendship, I always looked forward to the text in our group chat, which we still quote today: [Lewis] sidesteps at six.