I know that I’m a sentimental person. I tend to hold onto the very bits of all my memories, littering my room with the edges of ticket stubs and plane tickets, books that have been bent in a million ways and bills from dinners out with friends. As I add to this collection, I find that my last semester at Hopkins has made me feel more nostalgic than usual. I’m thinking back to all my memories — from all the seemingly insignificant ones that now define who I am to the tears and frustrations that I think have made me more resilient. To be honest, it hasn’t been easy; I’m sure many at Hopkins can relate to how this school has pushed us to the brink. However, at the end of the day, I think my four years here will hold a special place in my heart.
For this piece, I want to reflect back on the spaces at Hopkins that hold my memories — the ones that almost broke me, the places where I fell in love with life and the ones I know that I will walk back to in the future and still feel right at home.
AMR 3B 305
Freshman dorm rooms are always special, but I feel like this room, tucked into the corner of the third floor of the AMR 3B building, had a little extra magic in it. There was ivy growing on the window, and I swear I’ve never had a more comfy bed. This was the place where I grew most into my skin, learning who I was and who I wasn’t. This space became one of late night conversations, dishes washed in the bathroom sink and infamously where I learned to play the most horrific card of all time — Mao.
However, I think the best part of freshman year was finding my people — to the Girlies™ collective, I love you all so so much. Thank you for being the ones I can count on; this does feel a bit “drama” for writing this, but I'm so excited for all the memories that we will make in the future together. To Arantza, we beat the Freshman roommate curse! I think my college experience has been made so much better knowing that I will always come home to comfort and kindness. To Luciana and Christina — I owe the broken water machine at FFC so much for bringing you both into my life. I’m so excited to see what you both will get up to next, and I will be calling you both for apartment decor advice.
Mergenthaler 426
The Anthropology department’s seminar room, Mergenthaler 426, does have a lot of flaws. I think there is every type of projection technology in the room — from projectors to TVs that professors always seem to have difficulty connecting to. (Is it the zoom connection button, the HDMI cable or the Apple Play function — who will ever know?). However, this is the space where I fell in love with the discipline of Anthropology. I learned to analyze how historical implications have created the structures that shape our understanding of healthcare and language. Coming into Hopkins, I felt a bit disillusioned about the inequalities and structures of oppression we see everyday, but anthropology helped me see these issues in a new light. It gave me the tools to critically examine these structures — not as inevitable or fixed — but as products of complex histories that can be challenged and reimagined.
Hodson 110
It took me over five different classes to find out that each of the desks in Hodson 110 had a charger port in them. This pretty much encapsulates the entirety of my neuroscience degree at Hopkins. There were a lot of tears shed, late nights in Brody doing practice sets, weekends attending review sessions and adjusted expectations. However, I can say that I have learned a lot. Beyond the content, I’ve gained resilience, time management skills and the ability to push through moments of self-doubt. Despite the struggle, I look back with pride at how far I’ve come and the growth I’ve experienced. Even more, I think the joy of discovering something new and fascinating in science is unmatched; it’s the same joy I felt as a child on a field trip to the California Academy of Sciences, wonder and curiosity about the world around me.
The Gatehouse
Being part of The News-Letter has shaped my time at Hopkins in ways I never expected. Student journalism is always precarious — stories are written in between midterms and office-hours, deadlines loom like shadows and there's always more to be done than there is time for. But it's precisely that challenge that makes it so rewarding. Every piece, every interview, every late night in the Gatehouse is part of something bigger: telling the stories that matter, giving voice to underrepresented communities and holding institutions accountable. Despite the chaos and unpredictability, I wouldn’t trade those moments for anything else.
The Johns Hopkins Hospital
There is a plaque commemorating George Washington’s final U.S. tour in front of the Hopkins Hospital. Every time I see it and the red-orange facade of the building, there is something striking about the fact that my ability to study here was beyond my ancestor’s wildest dreams and the imaginations of early U.S. presidents. I’ve learned from the most amazing researchers and medical providers, who have all shown me what kind of physician I hope to be in the future — one that is kind, determined and willing to advocate deeply for their patients.
From my work with Hopkins Community Connections to research at a stroke clinic at the Bayview Medical Center, I’ve had the privilege of seeing healthcare from many perspectives. I’ve seen firsthand the disparities that still exist in who has access to healthcare, but I’ve also witnessed the power of empathy and advocacy in addressing these issues. Every step I take in this place reminds me of the privilege I have in studying here, and the responsibility that comes with it to make a difference in the lives of others.
Home
I think the last place I have to reflect on isn’t particularly here at Hopkins, but it’s a place I have to thank nonetheless. To my family, to everyone back home — thank you for picking up my calls and offering support when I felt the weight of everything getting too heavy. I remember when I first got my acceptance to this school and how excited and scared I felt. Thank you to everyone for making me feel like I could do this and make it out successfully on the other side. You were right — I could do it, even on the days when it felt impossible.
To Hopkins, thank you for challenging me, inspiring me and pushing me beyond my limits. I’m excited to visit again one day and see how all these spaces have changed.
Shirlene John is a senior from San Jose, Calif. majoring in Neuroscience and Anthropology. She is a co-Editor-in-Chief for The News-Letter.
