The story of a failed scrapbooker
By Aakriti Bhattarai
I have always wanted to be the girl that scrapbooked. I wouldn’t be surprised to see a “scrapbook inspo board on my middle school Pinterest account” It was a hobby that I always tried to pick up, but it never stuck. My closet at home is evidence of these failed attempts. A barely used book lies in a box, with an unlimited supply of washi tape, highlighters, colored pens, and glitter.
Then came Randolph room 203. Two beds and two desks enclosed by what many describe as prison walls, and of course, who could forget the doorless closets? The room was so small, I routinely jumped from my bed to my roommate’s. During orientation week, I struggled to adjust. I wanted my college dorm to feel calm and homey, but instead, it felt bare. On the last day of orientation, my roommate at the time, who is now one of my close friends, and I went dorm room shopping. We both got matching bulletin boards. After this initial purchase, my imagination took over. Within the next week, my room looked a little like this:
As my freshmen year continued, every note and flyer I acquired made its way onto the wall. Memories, good and bad, are scattered throughout. By the end of the school year, the bulletin board became my scrap wall.
The once bare prison room became a home. Tears shed as I packed up that spring. I told myself that the items on my wall would make their way into a scrapbook or a memory box. As expected, the scrapbook never happened, but the memories did follow me to my sophomore-year dorm.
It’s only November, and already the wall is covered. You might be wondering what the crutch on the wall is, or maybe you’re asking yourself why I have a license plate with my name on it. These are both questions that will be answered later. To the right of my desk is a picture wall — something I didn’t have before. It consists of people that made up my home in New Hampshire and my home here at Duke. If you look closely enough, you will even see pictures of my freshmen year room filled with my favorite people.
My name tag from my time as an orientation leader is visibly present on the right corner of my bulletin board. I was on the fence about taking on the position, but I couldn’t imagine my sophomore year without that week long experience.
Now, if you are wondering if the license plate on my wall is real, yes, it very much is. What can I say… I am the favorite child :) The plate used to be on the first car my mom got when my family moved to the US. I remember how I begged them to put my name on the plate, and years later, I begged them to take it off. Now it sits on my wall, representing how far my family has come since that initial car while paying homage to my favorite state, New Hampshire.
To end this bittersweet trip down memory lane comes the story of the crutch. To make a long story short, the beginning of my sophomore year was a roller coaster. Two weeks before my 19th birthday, I hurt my knee. I used the crutches for one day max. That following Monday, I hung one up on my wall as a display of humor (or so I thought), only to find that I had fully torn my ACL and meniscus. Not fun, to say the least.
This wall has seen it all, every tear and every smile. My sophomore year has been hectic, but given the opportunity, I wouldn’t change any part of it (except maybe the ACL injury). And as my school year continues, I can’t wait to see everything it becomes. I may never be the girl that pastes pictures on a physical book, but I will always be the girl that pastes my memories on a dorm room wall.
Aakriti is a sophomore and first year @DukeStudents intern. When she isn’t adding to her scrap wall, you can find her going on hot girl walks around campus, aimlessly trying to debug code in Vondy, and taking pictures for her Instagram dump.
