Word to the future FROG’s

After four days of FROG (First yeaR Orientation Guide) training, I knew to refer to it as 1787 Orientation. August 26, 2015 marked the first official day of the week, where I so graciously got the opportunity to welcome my group of 34 first year boys to James Madison University.

“Move-in” for parents is the equivalent of dropping their toddler off at the front door of Chuck-e-Cheese. With a simple hug, kiss and good-luck pep talk, they let their kids loose. And so I watched as one by one, parents drove up and dropped off their children as they entered the many wonders, bright lights and beautiful people of JMU.

After two long days of moving in all of the first-years it was officially go time! After all were accounted for, I decided our first interaction as a group should be the name game. I instructed them to pick a word that started with the same letter as their name, while simultaneously displaying a hand motion to accompany their name. I went first.

“Jalapeño Jorden.”I said while fanning my partially opened mouth. Turning to the boy standing at my right I gave him an encouraging smile to go ahead.

He returned my smile and said, “Testicle Tommy.”

I stood there dumbfounded, and turned to the next boy, “Deez-nuts-David.”

A few chuckles from the peanut gallery followed. Then came,“Penis Pierson.”
“GAME OVER!”

68 eyes fell on my in an awkward silence. The words had left my mouth before I had registered what I was doing.

It wasn’t until the third day, during the annual Block Party in the Burg that I was again stuck dumbfounded by my first-years. I was ecstatic when a handful of my first-years informed me they would be in attendance to the main event of the day. Leading them into downtown Harrisonburg every square inch of street and sidewalk was covered by all the newley admitted first-years. All the store front doors were opened. People everywhere were handing out flyers and discount cards. All the restaurants had representatives outside their main entrance giving away free samples. Within moments I realized my first-years had dissolvedinto the masses and were nowhere to be seen.

My favorite JMU a cappella group, Exit 245, was performing. Taking a seat on the lawn my fellow FROG’s and I swayed back and forth to the melody. Ping! Shifting my gaze from the stage to my phone I noticed it was a text from one of my first-years. It was a picture of about 15 of them all together. Proud, I showed the other FROG’s. However the response I received to the picture was not one I had expected.

“You do realize where they are, don’t you?” Morgan, another FROG asked me. I took a second look at the picture. With that my heart sank. They were in the tattoo parlor up the street from the college.

I leapt to my feet. There was no time to hesitate. Up the road I ran. The grungy sign hanging outside told me I had found it. I put my back into it pulling open the door. There I stood. Ready to pounce! When abruptly, I was stopped. A 7-foot man now blocked my entrance. Taken aback, I stumbled over my once very simple phrase… “One of my first-years…is he in there?”

“Oh, the one who just got the Duke Dog? Yeah, he’s in there.”

Oh. No. at last I pushed past him and entered the dark shop. There he was. It was as if he had just stepped off of a roller coaster, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Robert notice me the instant I him. He came barreling towards me with the upmost high-off-life expression plastered across his face. Oblivious to the directions of the tattoo artist, he ripped the bandage off his arm. There it was. The prickled in blood Duke Dog plastered on his bicep. His genuine happiness and excitement for being at JMU was ever so present. I couldn’t help but feel happy for him. Although in that moment I ridiculed him for getting such a silly thing permanently tattooed on his body.

One month later…

For our first post 1787 FROG event we decided to have a spaghetti dinner. In the midst of cooking I received a call from one of my first-years, Zach,“Hello?” “Mom. We’re lost.”

After trying my best to guide them there, the phone was removed from my hand. One of Jon’s roommates grabbed it and began directing for me. He asked me if the big group of guys dressed in suits in the parking lot were mine. Not mine, I remember thinking to myself.

The front door burst open moments later and in came 34 of my first-years dressed to the nines in suits and bowties. I dropped the spoon I had been stirring with. My eyes filled with tears. They all yelled out,

“We dressed up for you mom! Couldn’t come to dinner without looking our best!” Then they all rushed over to me, picked up the spoon, and dove right in with the rest of cooking dinner.

College is one of those things no one can truly prepare you for. It is a “learn-from-your-mistakes” kind of place. Each day is filled with new experiences and countless memories. Lucky for me, I can already say I have lived some of the greatest moments of my life here at JMU, many that I know I will cherish forever. My love for JMU and constant desire to bleed purple and gold is what had encouraged me to apply to be a FROG in the first place, and only deepened my love for this school even more after that week. While my group of guys may have acted childish during the week, they turned out to be some of the greatest men and most valued friendships I have made here at JMU. Each and every one of them have touched me in a different way, deepening my love for JMU.

If you’re looking to be a FROG, take it from me, it’s an opportunity of a life time and a privilege not to be taken for granted. A memory to be cherished forever… I already wish the very best to all the future FROG’s in the process now. Your mustard yellow shirt is waiting for you.