Taking risks paid off
Ben Marincic
Issue date: 4/14/09 Section: Opinion
I will never forget Jan. 6, 2006. This is the day that I finally moved out on my own. It was a culmination of more than a year's worth of planning.
In late 2004, I was living in Augusta, Ga., with my dad, working full-time at Winn-Dixie.I had recently been accepted to Augusta State University and was planning on starting in Spring 2005. Then in mid-December my dad told me that he had been transferred from Ft. Gordon to a hospital in South Boston, Va., and would be moving at the beginning of the year. I had to re-think my plans.
I couldn't afford to stay in Augusta by myself, and time was working against me, so I quit my job and moved with him. But I couldn't get into any college in Virginia, so I called Augusta State. Fortunately for me, the university had held my acceptance and in-state tuition. So now, I knew where I was going to school, but where would I live?
I started browsing Augusta State's Web site and discovered the university was opening University Village, a student housing complex close to campus, in Fall 2005. I got accepted and could move in at the beginning of the year. I was saving every cent I earned from my cashiering job at Food Lion and even got a transfer to another Food Lion in Augusta. Everything was falling into place.
On Friday, Jan. 6, 2006, I packed up my belongings in my GMC Sierra and followed my dad's Pontiac Bonneville for over six hours from Virginia to Georgia. The realization of moving out was finally hitting me. Everyone in my family had joked that I would be an old man before I finally moved out from under parental supervision. I was a 21-year-old man with very little money, a job that barely paid above minimum wage, and I would be moving in with three roommates I had never met, miles away from any family members. This was a huge risk, and the uncertainty scared me. But this was something I had to do.
We finally made it to the Village and I felt like a boulder had been lifted off my back. I was finally living on my own. I followed my dad's car through the Village gate until we reached the parking lot. We then pinpointed the location of my dorm. I unlocked the door, unpacked some boxes and introduced myself to my roommates.
The first one I met, Patrick, had a long conversation with me, ranging in topics from where I was from to who my favorite sports teams were. The other roommate, Chris, seemed very subdued, but it may have been because he was getting ready for work. I couldn't complain though. They seemed like they'd be easy to get along with.
I spent the night at a hotel with my dad, then gave him a bear hug and said goodbye before he drove back to Virginia the next day. I drove from the hotel back to my apartment with a strange feeling of accomplishment, fear, doubt, hope, uncertainty and relief. I had delayed it for one more night, but now it was here. Three years later, I can say I took a risk, and it paid off.
In late 2004, I was living in Augusta, Ga., with my dad, working full-time at Winn-Dixie.I had recently been accepted to Augusta State University and was planning on starting in Spring 2005. Then in mid-December my dad told me that he had been transferred from Ft. Gordon to a hospital in South Boston, Va., and would be moving at the beginning of the year. I had to re-think my plans.
I couldn't afford to stay in Augusta by myself, and time was working against me, so I quit my job and moved with him. But I couldn't get into any college in Virginia, so I called Augusta State. Fortunately for me, the university had held my acceptance and in-state tuition. So now, I knew where I was going to school, but where would I live?
I started browsing Augusta State's Web site and discovered the university was opening University Village, a student housing complex close to campus, in Fall 2005. I got accepted and could move in at the beginning of the year. I was saving every cent I earned from my cashiering job at Food Lion and even got a transfer to another Food Lion in Augusta. Everything was falling into place.
On Friday, Jan. 6, 2006, I packed up my belongings in my GMC Sierra and followed my dad's Pontiac Bonneville for over six hours from Virginia to Georgia. The realization of moving out was finally hitting me. Everyone in my family had joked that I would be an old man before I finally moved out from under parental supervision. I was a 21-year-old man with very little money, a job that barely paid above minimum wage, and I would be moving in with three roommates I had never met, miles away from any family members. This was a huge risk, and the uncertainty scared me. But this was something I had to do.
We finally made it to the Village and I felt like a boulder had been lifted off my back. I was finally living on my own. I followed my dad's car through the Village gate until we reached the parking lot. We then pinpointed the location of my dorm. I unlocked the door, unpacked some boxes and introduced myself to my roommates.
The first one I met, Patrick, had a long conversation with me, ranging in topics from where I was from to who my favorite sports teams were. The other roommate, Chris, seemed very subdued, but it may have been because he was getting ready for work. I couldn't complain though. They seemed like they'd be easy to get along with.
I spent the night at a hotel with my dad, then gave him a bear hug and said goodbye before he drove back to Virginia the next day. I drove from the hotel back to my apartment with a strange feeling of accomplishment, fear, doubt, hope, uncertainty and relief. I had delayed it for one more night, but now it was here. Three years later, I can say I took a risk, and it paid off.
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