Springtime in the States: An allergic reaction to optimism

Spring is an amazing time of year. New opportunities, new life, and new optimism are in the air, alongside some trends that don’t quite make sense to me as an international student. 

Coming from Ireland, I arrived in the United States in order to pursue my academic and athletic careers in better weather than the Emerald Isle is infamous for, or so I thought. It doesn’t quite make sense to me how one day there can be a tornado warning and the next day the weather can so nonchalantly switch to clear skies and sunshine. I have come to realize that the weather app is my favorite form of fiction.

The unpredictability of the weather creates quite a conundrum for people, as that they never know how to prepare for any venture off campus. On countless occasions, I have seen athletes leave campus in the morning wearing  heavy jackets and gloves just to come back with a burnt face and arms resembling the Polish flag. It’s honestly astonishing. It also makes me question whether they have gotten sunburn or they have been attacked by the notorious windburn.

Another one of the most alarming things for me to see as an international student is how whenever the weather changes, everyone here gets sick. In history classes in school, I had learned about the black death and the plague, thinking they had been extinct for hundreds of years. In recent weeks, I have walked around the campus and thought that these terrible diseases are back with a vengeance. 

Alongside these illnesses being back like they never left, I can’t step outside without the air attacking me. Back home, I thought my pollen allergies were just a couple of sniffles here and there. Oh man, I have never been more wrong in my life. I can’t escape the yellow wave. Taking the five-minute walk to the Westlawn building for breakfast in the morning makes me look like I’ve been crying my eyes out for the best part of an hour. My eyes are red, my nose is running. My friends ask if I’m okay, like I’ve just gone through a breakup or something, but no, I’ve fallen victim to freshly cut grass.