Returning to campus after winter break always comes with a bit of adjustment—remembering where your classes are, figuring out how to survive without home-cooked meals and realizing that, once again, the semester is going to be far busier than you thought. But this time, settling back in feels different. There’s an underlying tension in the air, a shift that no one is explicitly naming but everyone seems to be feeling. It’s the kind of unease that comes from knowing that, beyond the familiar walls of Bucknell, the country is gearing up for one of the most politically turbulent years in recent history. With Trump back in power and the wake of the presidential election looming, the transition from break to campus life has felt less like a return to normal and more like stepping into a strange in-between—where everything looks the same, but nothing quite feels it.
The first week back is usually filled with the standard questions: “How was your break?” “What did you do?” “Did you get any sleep?” But this time, those casual conversations seem to trail off into something heavier. Everyone has come back with thoughts, opinions and—more than anything—an awareness that things are shifting. There’s no immediate drama unfolding on campus, no protests breaking out on the quad, no professors dramatically rewriting their syllabi to address the state of the world, and yet, there’s still a collective understanding that something is off. It’s in the way conversations have become a little more careful, in the way people hesitate before saying something that might spark a debate and in the way social media feeds have turned into a nonstop barrage of election news, hot takes and existential dread.
For some students, coming back meant returning to an environment where political discussions are unavoidable, a stark contrast to the homes they left behind, where these topics were either ignored entirely or turned into full-blown arguments over the dinner table. Winter break, for many, was a strange exercise in reflection—realizing just how different their views had become from those of their family and hometown friends. Some spent the holidays trying to explain why certain policies matter, why certain rights feel at risk or why pretending to be “neutral” isn’t really an option anymore. Others avoided the subject altogether, choosing peace over confrontation, only to come back to campus and feel like they were stepping into a world where ignoring these issues wasn’t even a possibility.
And then, of course, there’s the added layer of uncertainty for international students, who returned not just with the usual post-break blues but with the extra weight of wondering what new policies might affect them. With every election cycle comes a fresh wave of immigration debates, visa concerns and shifting regulations that can make even the most mundane aspects of student life—like planning summer internships or booking flights home—feel unexpectedly complicated. It’s an exhausting reality, one that makes coming back to campus feel less like a return and more like walking into a game where the rules might change at any moment.
But even beyond the direct political implications, there’s something else at play. This semester doesn’t just feel like another stretch of classes and campus events; it feels like a waiting period, like we’re all holding our breath, watching the country inch closer to something we don’t quite know how to prepare for. It’s not about whether people lean left or right, whether they’re engaged or apathetic—it’s about the overwhelming sense that things are shifting, that we’re all trying to figure out where we stand in a moment where everything feels unpredictable. It’s a strange kind of limbo, where campus life is moving forward as usual—assignments are being handed out, clubs are hosting their first meetings, weekend plans are being made—but underneath it all, there’s the awareness that, at some point, things are going to feel even weirder.
So here we are, back at Bucknell, back in the routine, but also back in a world that feels slightly unfamiliar. Maybe that feeling will fade as the semester picks up, as deadlines replace debates and midterms overshadow the endless news cycle. Or maybe this is just what the next few months will be—navigating college life in the middle of something bigger, trying to keep up, trying to stay sane and, most of all, trying to make sense of a world that refuses to sit still.