There are plenty of activities during new student orientation, but probably the most memorable, and I would argue most important (out of no personal motives, I assure you) is the E Pluribus Gustavus show on the last evening before returning students arrive.The show is important because it opens up the campus for social issues that we don’t always know how to talk about, or even are aware of. I also believe it sets the tone for the incoming class, showing that although there are serious problems of social justice on this campus, we have positive means of confronting those issues and give voice to people that are pressured to remain silent.

As a part of the cast, it is always coming up with the show that is the hardest part. Ironically, it’s not the 90-plus hours of rehearsal or back-to-back-to-back performances that are the most difficult for us, but the creation of the skits themselves that really push us. Even the writing can sometimes come easily, but the initial discussion about meaningful personal experience forces us to confront the best, worst and most trying situations in our lives.

It’s an uncomfortable place. With a group of 15 people, some of whom you don’t know before the process begins, trust and respect can be scarce, at least initially. How many of you could talk truthfully about your personal experience with suicide, sexual assault or body image with more than a handful of people? Because these stories are so personal, it’s only natural to be defensive and not tell them to other people.

We end up with a meaningful show because of how edifying the week-long process is. Only by setting aside what others may think about me could I contribute to the group.

It was scary. I was vulnerable in the most extreme sense of the word because who I really was I showed to other people. I was myself, and it was frightening.

I was myself, and it was liberating. Not once did I get laughed at because of what I had to say. Not once did someone belittle who I was. The only thing I received for my personal contribution was trust, support, and, dare I say, love.

I know the only reason I felt comfortable enough to walk on stage in only my underwear in front of over 700 people is because I had first been okay doing so with the people in that cast. The only reason I could get up and talk about love and suicide was because I was comfortable doing so first with a group of people I knew supported me.

Unfortunately, only a few people ever have the opportunity to put on E Pluribus Gustavus. Hardly anyone sits down with a group of strangers and can trust them in such a short period of time.

Still, I wish that every person on this campus could go through an experience like this. It taught me so much about building meaningful relationships. Sadly, everyone has a worst moment in his/her life. Likewise, everyone has a group of people with whom he/she can feel strong. But amazingly, we can empathize with everyone, too if only when we are ourselves. I may have more privilege than any other demographic at Gustavus, but that does not mean I cannot take myself to a place where I can feel and live in the pain of another.

Humans, and a few other mammals, have an amazing capability to feel and empathize. Even our brains have structures designed, “soft-wired,” to represent another person’s experience as their own. I would hope that everyone bear in mind that we are all vulnerable, and that as humans we desire more to feel compassion and find love than to kill and oppress at even the most basic neuro-biological level. Building meaningful relationships starts with the recognition that we all have something to lose, but something even more special to gain, from being ourselves.