It was just me. Only me. I had to register. I had to find my seat. I had to get to class. I had to get up. I had to write that LONG paper.

When my parents dropped me off for that first Dean of Women rules meeting, I walked into the chilly auditorium and listened to the details of what was expected of me. And I burst into tears. What had I done? I could never do this. It was all my responsibility.