Made at BYU

Yesterday I was talking to a friend that is about to graduate from BYU. There was definitely an excitement tone to their voice as we discussed the festivities, grad school, and everything else that will be happening. However, we soon began talking about future plans (which isn't always the most exciting and optimistic topic). But because we always seem to "talk deep," we continued.

We talked a lot about the exit survey. As I'm sure most universities do, BYU requires that you take an exit survey before you graduate - answering a series of questions about the university itself, your program, instructors, experiences, appreciations, complaints, and everything in between. It is all-encompassing, and takes a fair amount of time to complete honestly and thoughtfully.

When I took it this summer, I was happy to express my opinions. (It should be no surprise to anyone that I am opinionated, so this was right up my alley).

I made a lot of honest comments like thanking the institution; complaining about parking and housing regulations; thanking certain professors I had grown to love; writing my love of the weekly devotionals; sharing my testimony about religious education; and just expressing gratitude for the opportunity to spend the greatest four years of my life on their campus.

My friend shared many of these same comments, while adding numerous others that I wished I had written.

The more I have thought about it in the past couple days, the more I am reminded of my first mission companion Elder Fornelli. When we were in the mission home the day before leaving Mexico, he said that he had learned so much in the two years from the things that he had experienced - that if you opened up his heart, you would see that there is a stamp that says "Hecho in Mexico" or "Made in Mexico."

I felt the same way as him.

And now that I have graduated, I feel the same way about BYU.

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We Y graduates are made fun of up here in Salt Lake for being "proud; elitist; stuckup; cookie-cutter; sheltered; zoobish." People in my ward, at work, and even my roomate always seem to have a lot to say about BYU. Sure it is because I live in red country and even though it is mostly done in fun - it gets pretty annoying when you are automatically judged just because of the school you attended.

But I don't care.

BYU did shelter me. It did turn me into a zoobie. I was grateful to be graded in my religious courses. And to follow an honor code. And to take tests in the testing center. And to shave everyday. And to pray before lectures. And to do dozens of group projects. And study for hours and hours for courses that all freshman seem to fail.

All of this allowed for growth. BYU is where I learned to learn. And learned to love. It is where I met the friends that will always be the best. No matter where we live, or what we do. It is where I decided on a career path. And It just happens to be where I learned the most about myself, my testimony, the importance of education, and of family. It was more of a home than any apartment in Provo or Salt Lake.

I think about my four years spent there every single day. Just as I do about my experiences in Mexico.

I don't know how many people feel that way about the college they attend. Probably a lot. But I I seem to think that being a prideful zoobie with two imaginary stamps on his heart isn't a bad thing.

Sorry Salt Lake and BYU haters.