This week, Off Leash News sent a reporter to speak with undergraduate advisor Zachary Morrison about the importance of community building for new students. Contorting his face into a pained smile, Morrison explained the importance of joining a FIG. “I would say that all freshman should join a FIG in their first quarter. It helps you meet so many new people, and it’s a great opportunity to make this university feel just a bit smaller.” His smile immediately began to fade, the façade of plastered glee peeling off. This was the first glimpse of the broken man hiding underneath khaki shorts and a ‘Go Dawgs!’ sweatshirt.

“I mean, I get it. It’s just so hard to make friends. And especially when you may not know a lot of people at this university, or you don’t connect with a lot of your coworkers, I mean students. It’s um…” It was at this point that Morrison’s bottom lip began to tremble. He turned around to his laptop, explaining that he had a lot of work to do. However, when he opened up his laptop, the screen revealed an inbox as empty as his soul. He immediately slammed it shut. There were photos on his desk. One of himself, alone in his office, the other showing a small husky dog.

When asked, Morrison explained, “Oh! That’s Stella. She’s my little angel. I thought it would be funny to get a husky so I could come up to people and say ‘hey guys! I have a husky, and the mascot of this school is also a husky. Maybe we should talk about that and keep talking about it and then do that like every day and…” Morrison continued to explain a 10-year friendship plan for him and whoever would be interested in his dog.

The reporter then asked to bring the conversation back to the original subject matter. “Yes. FIGS. Well, I’m actually still friends with all of the people I met in my FIG group. And by friends, I mean I send a meme into our group chat every two months and get left on read. It may sound kind of wacky, but sometimes I wish I could be a freshman again, just to be in a group where people are forced to talk to me. In fact, that’s why I became an advisor.”

At the conclusion of the interview, Morrison attempted to partake in ice breakers. He stood up on his chair with what he called “the talking stick,” a glorified pool noodle stained with the hands of grubby freshman of days gone by. Our representative immediately declined and attempted to leave, but Morrison blocked the door, asking if we had asked him about his dog. After taking a granola bar, a bookmark, and a copy of his personal mixtape titled ‘Friends Are Cool’ (it was a solo project), the reporter finally escaped.