A month into my senior year, in mid-September, I sat on the freshly cut grass of Polk Place for a socially distanced picnic with three of my friends. As we ate takeout from our favorite Franklin Street restaurants, we reminisced about some of our favorite memories at Carolina. In the three years since we’d moved into Hinton James Residence Hall, we had experienced everything together. The embarrassment that came with getting lost for over an hour on our first FDOC. The immense pride we felt when we received a good grade on a paper or test after studying for hours upon hours. And, of course, the unbeatable thrill of rushing Franklin Street after a Carolina victory.