Prior to going on the retreat, I was nervous. As a junior, I was afraid I would be the only upperclassman on a retreat typically dominated by freshmen. But throughout the weekend, I encountered students of all classes. I was also unsure about what would happen on the retreat, but even in the short three days that I was there, I felt my faith deepen.

Like most things in life, it comes down to mind over matter. Brain rot content only fries you if you let it. We have been active participants in our collective brain fog, and it will continue to be a generational problem if we allow it to.

Every time a college student opens TikTok, Instagram or YouTube, they’re stepping into a digital hall of mirrors where their beliefs are reflected and reconfirmed. The “For You Page,” that students use for entertainment, has become one of the strongest engines for confirmation bias.

With last-minute homework assignments due at 11:59 p.m., textbook readings stacked like bricks and rationing dining dollars like currency, the non-music major class Campus Orchestra is a rediscovery of campus culture. It’s more than just a class; it’s a space that asks for presence more than perfection.

When the government shuts down, it’s easy to shrug and think, “That’s Washington’s problem.” But here’s the truth: when the lights go out in D.C., the shadows reach our classrooms, our dorm rooms and our financial aid accounts. The shutdown may seem like political theater performed by distant figures in suits, but the damage has already spread not only to our campuses, but our faith in the system itself.

Embarrassment isn’t something to run from. It’s actually a superpower, a teacher, a nudge and sometimes even a gift. When we dive into those moments that make us blush, we realize confidence doesn’t come from being perfect; it comes from being real. We mess up, we laugh at ourselves, we bounce back and we grow.