It was August 1995, and I nervously stood on the front porch of the Joint House student co-op (now Baker House) waiting to get my room key. I was transferring to the University of Michigan from a small liberal arts college and was excited to embrace the big university experience. But as I looked around at everything that was so unfamiliar, I wondered if moving in with 40 strangers was too big of a leap.
I locked eyes with one of those strangers and we started chatting. Kelly (Russell) Barth, ’98, was a friendly nursing student from Boston and I liked her immediately. We decided to be roommates and started carrying boxes to our double upstairs. There, we met Sarah (Johnson) Jezton, ’98, and Diane Cook, ’98, who had already moved in across the hall, along with their hamster, Fee, named after the Phish song. Anjali Goswami, ’98, was next door with AstroTurf for carpet. I would soon meet the rest of the women who would become my lifelong friends. They were creative, brilliant, and fun.
Our bond was forged in the stress and fun of college life. We helped each other through break-ups and final exams. After my very last final, they surprised me with champagne outside the lecture hall. We played rowdy games of Trivial Pursuit and invented “window dancing” in the common room. Our third year living together, we took in a stray cat who proceeded to have eight adorable kittens. We named them after the moons of Jupiter.
After graduation, our paths took us to far corners of the world, including India, Bolivia, South Africa, and San Francisco. Despite the distance and our busy lives — such as building our careers and raising 17 children between us — we continued to meet up every year or so. We danced at each other’s weddings, gathered in each other’s homes for long weekends, and returned to Ann Arbor for Stilton fries at Ashley’s and to visit other favorite spots.
Even when we are not together, I can still feel their presence. There’s something powerful about a circle of strong women who have known you nearly forever and support you no matter what. It’s a special kind of alumni network. When I left my full-time job and launched my business, they were there cheering me on. Before I walk on stage to speak to a room full of people, I think of them. Knowing they are out there pursuing their dreams gives me extra courage to go after mine.
One minute we were 22 years old and graduating, and the next thing we knew, we were all turning 50. We’d been walking the path of life together and we wanted to mark this milestone earlier this year by walking 50 miles along a literal trail: the Camino de Santiago, a network of historic pilgrimage routes across Europe leading to the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela in Spain.
We started at the trailhead in Pontevedra, Spain, giddy to all be together for the first time in six years. The trail was marked by yellow arrows that help Camino pilgrims not to get lost. It’s also a fitting symbol of who we have been as friends — helping each other find our way and marking big milestones over the years.
The trail took us on a moss-covered stone path along the river, past waterfalls and ancient stone water mills. We climbed over a steep mountain ridge with spectacular views, down to a medieval monastery where we entered a massive local Easter festival.
On the third day of our hike, the Camino started to take its toll, and we instinctively showed up for each other just as we had in life. Kristen’s blistered feet forced her to slow down, so half of us fell back to walk alongside her. Then the torrential rain and lightning started, with no shelter in sight. We were soaking wet. Instead of letting it get us down, we shared snacks and laughed about our giant ponchos and the absurdity of it all.
50 miles in, we arrived at the stunning cathedral where the pilgrimage ends. We took in its grandeur and made our way to the cherry on top of our trip: a boho-chic resort we had all been looking forward to. As we sipped cocktails in the pool, I couldn’t help but notice its similarities to the colorful, eclectic (albeit much less fancy) co-op housing where our journey together had begun. I’m so glad I took the leap and moved into that house.
For three decades, the friends I found at U-M have walked the trail of life with me, enriching every step along the way. As we hugged goodbye, with tears in our eyes and plans for our next gathering already taking shape, I knew the Camino had not ended in Santiago. It continues wherever life takes us, and our friendship, like yellow arrows, will continue to show us the way.
Kate Madigan, ’97, is the founder of Madigan Strategies, a climate and sustainability consulting and coaching business. She hails from Traverse City, Mich. Find Kate at www.katemadigan.com.
