A blood-curdling scream, a “Five Nights at Freddy’s” jump scare, an uncanny image, public speaking, skydiving and a new college campus. What do these have in common?
Fear.
Choosing to come to Pomona College was one of my most horrifying decisions. As a first-generation student, I had no stories nor guidance to really gauge my expectations of college. I’m the first child in my family to move out of the state of Texas, pursue a STEM field and receive any form of liberal arts education. Because of the gravity of all the firsts, I was a ball of terror on the floor of my bedroom while packing my suitcases in early August. At the time, I’d never felt so alone in my own fears. Not just because my family didn’t fully understand, but also because I didn’t think any other first-years would feel the same.
When I arrived on campus, that perception didn’t shift immediately. Throughout orientation, I felt as though other students were indestructible. The social energy I witnessed in others made me feel like I was the only one held back by timidity. While my first weeks in college were still positive, watching others approach unfamiliar young adult life with outward confidence kept me from sharing my worries with those around me. Then I realized something: if I was hiding my fear, maybe they were too. After that, I never shut up again.
When I’ve asked others what they’re afraid of, they’ve often shied away in embarrassment. While I understand some things are more personal than we’d like to admit, the intimacy of shared fear is exactly what can make our diverse community even more beautiful, especially amidst the extreme shift that is starting college life. Sometimes, all others need to feel close is knowing that we might both be scared of something. Fear itself is a bonding experience.
As I look back on some of my highlights this far into the fall semester, I realize that experiencing fear alongside others is part of what made these moments so integral. There are varying explanations for this phenomenon. Research on recreational fear — a mix of fear and enjoyment occurring when safety is evident — provides correlational evidence that fear is social glue. Results of some studies highlight that higher fear levels predict stronger companionship; not only do mutual experiences often reduce overwhelming fear, but less-bonded people grow closer after facing fear together. In more specific scientific terms, the bonding hormone oxytocin is released in the face of horror, bringing people closer on a molecular level when they’re scared together. Sociologist Margee Kerr puts it pretty well: “Friends who are scared together, stay together.”
In terms of experiential fear, I’ve personally reaped the benefits of utilizing scares as social glue. My dad and I have a special show we enjoy called “Ghost Adventures,” a documentary-style series following paranormal investigators and their journeys through some of the most popular haunted places in the world. As a kid, I found this show horrifying, but watching it now with my dad while lying on the living room couch has become a foundational piece of our relationship. It’s been over a decade since we started the show, and when we rewatch episodes together, we still get chills at doors closing on their own or orbs moving across the camera.
While experiential fear is evidently and qualitatively an incredible object to bond over, I think the connective potential of fear goes beyond thrilling experiences. Fear is a broad emotion, and more deeply personal than we might think. If experiential fear can be strong enough to bring us together on a molecular level, imagine the impact that externalizing our inner fears can have. For the growth of the 5C community, let’s start being openly scared with others. Not just while playing horror games or watching scary movies, but also for the sake of pieces of ourselves we’re fearful of sharing.
In fact, to get you more comfortable with being scared with someone else, I’d like to introduce you to some of my own fears. Maybe they’ll bring me a little closer to you.
As a mixed-race Latina woman, one of the first things I remember being scared of upon coming to Pomona was explaining to other Latine friends that my Spanish wasn’t as good as I wanted it to be. Growing up in a thriving Latine community and embracing my culture back home, my moderate Spanish fluency is something I’ve been judged for and ashamed of. Since arriving on campus, however, this fear has not only almost vanished, but has also become a way for me to connect with my coworkers. They fully understand my experiences and have actually been helping me practice my Spanish ever since I confided in them.
Within my first few weeks of being here, I told a few people about how I live with Tourette’s Syndrome. It took time to expand that to telling most people I know, mainly because I still scrutinize it myself. If you’re reading this, know me personally and are just now hearing about this aspect of my lifestyle, feel free to come speak to me about it. I’ve got to jump over that hurdle of reticence.
Last but certainly not least, the fear I most recently shared was only with my closest friends. Until recently, I told them I had been in a long-term relationship for years. I’m learning what it’s like to be single, and while I’m immensely relieved and excited for this new journey, it’s so foreign to me and that’s scary. I’m scared of losing friendships back home as I center my life here. I’m scared of approaching every new experience in college simply because I don’t know what to expect.
You’ve heard it from me, and now I want to hear it from you, just in time for Halloweekend. What are you afraid of?
If you’re willing, confront that fear with others. Even if it’s as small as going to a haunted house or having deep conversations at 2 a.m. over some snacks, any scare is a good scare when it comes to connection. As a consortium community, we shouldn’t be ashamed to show our fears. Emotions — even the ones we keep in the dark — are what make us human and allow us to bond over diverse experiences, just as the 5Cs tell us to. While we’re great at bonding over our happiest moments and the fun we have, we’re lacking in speaking about what scares us. Caught up in the chaos of college life, we forget we’re braving its horrors together. So, to fully embrace that, we should be loud and proud about our terrors.
Leilani Fernandez PO ’30 loves being scared. Her most terrifying — yet highly unregrettable — experience is moving halfway across the country to Claremont, CA.
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