Dear Reader,
Did you ever play on the monkey bars as a kid?
And at the peak of the swing, for a second, you’re suspended in the air, about to fall. Then you reach out, and if you’re lucky, your hand closes around a metal bar, and you’re airborne again. You’ve bought yourself one more second of flight.
That’s what winter in Evanston can be like.
The suburban snowglobe can feel like doing the monkey bars in the dark — flinging yourself from one spot of light to the next, keeping yourself up just barely, always hanging on to the next good thing: a meeting with friends, a moment of sunshine, something that makes you laugh. Those moments of light act like lighthouses or guiding lanterns, marking time until the days get longer and the sky gets lighter.
And just like the monkey bars, winters can get more and more difficult. You might have never had trouble with the long nights and frigid days before, but as you get older and as responsibilities pile up, it gets harder to swing yourself from good moment to good moment. And if you don’t believe me about the monkey bars, I encourage you to try it for yourself. If the blisters don’t find you, frostbite probably will.
Once the snow wears off and Evanston starts looking less like Narnia, a slush-filled, grayscale landscape takes over. But it doesn’t have to. Here are my best tips for how to genuinely love a winter in the Chicago area — to not just skip from light to light, but to live in the glow.
Find your lighthouses
In retrospect, the only reason I survived my first two winter quarters was because I had set up weekly dinners with friends. One of the worst parts about the longer nights is that it makes everything feel like just a little too much effort. Texting people to hang out, staying in contact and even talking in person can feel like running a marathon, especially when even going outside takes practically an entire wardrobe of clothes and chemical hand warmers. When I knew I had people who would miss me if I didn’t show up to the lounge to watch reality TV on Tuesday nights, or a regular time to grab lunch or coffee with someone, it became a matter of routine to haul myself out of bed, instead of a new task. It also helped when the winter eventually did creep up, and it got even more difficult to do basic things. Sometimes, as long as you have a light at the end of the tunnel, it makes the darkest parts more bearable.
Bundle up.
On a sensory level, winter at Northwestern is a hell of epic proportions. Not only is it freezing outside to the point where it hurts to breathe, but it’s windy as well. Being outside with less than three layers is not only inadvisable but actively damaging to your health. And to make matters worse, every heating appliance is turned up to maximum levels inside, so going from outside to inside comes with a complimentary feeling of being dunked into a vat of peppermint oil. The solution? Layers. Long underwear, sweaters, leggings and a really good winter coat should be among these. Also, accessories. I used to think scarves and gloves were unnecessary, until I attempted to go outside without them once when the temperature had dipped below zero. I do not think that anymore.
Get shoes with traction
If I’m being honest, one of the brightest spots from my first winter was when a patch of black ice (nearly invisible, slippery ice that coats a surface—basically Nature’s booby trap) developed on the sidewalk right outside my dorm, and I spent the most hilarious hour of my life with my friends, watching people discover and then negotiate with it by shuffling, scooching and theatrically flailing. Unfortunately, laughing at black ice mishaps gives you bad karma, and on the way to class a few hours later I slipped and windmilled my arms for so long before falling directly on my butt that one of my friends still laughs so hard she cries whenever it’s brought up. The lesson in all of this is that sneakers might be fine for crunching through the salt, but shoes with traction, like sturdy boots, will be a lot more suitable for the inevitable snow and ice.
Get outside, touch grass
If I had it my way, most of my winter would be spent in the sweltering heat of my central radiator, or cozy in bed with a warm beverage. Tragically, this wish doesn’t supersede the human body’s need for Vitamin D. As tempting as it is to just grit your teeth and book it from building to building, or building to bus to car to building, seeing the sun is not only beneficial to your mental wellbeing but crucial to physical health. If you really can’t handle the snow, or the frigid Lakefill wind, there’s also always white light therapy at SPAC. And although there might not be much grass to speak of, taking the time to look around you can help as well. Winter is beautiful in a different way from some of the more colorful seasons, and it can take a second to warm up to it, but every year I discover new, beautiful things about this season, from the perfectly preserved rabbit prints that carpet our backyard to the sound of frozen snow crunching under my feet on my walk back home. To survive winter here, you have to embrace it a little, rather than just running away. The lights don’t always have to be escapes — they can be changes in perspective, too.
I’m from a place without much “winter” to speak of, which means that my first few Evanston winters hit hard. It felt like one long night, punctuated by classes and conversations. But I will still never forget my first spring. As terrible as winter might feel, and as dark as the night gets, it’s worth clinging to those moments of sunshine, if only to see the first green shoots peeking out of the snow.
If you have a pressing problem you need advice on, or a response to this, email [email protected] with “Best Guess” in the subject line.
Mika Ellison is a Medill senior. She can be contacted at [email protected]. If you would like to respond publicly to this op-ed, send a Letter to the Editor to [email protected]. The views expressed in this piece do not necessarily reflect the views of all staff members of The Daily Northwestern.