The Night Christopher Ryan Ward Started Coming Together

Envision this: A father pulls up to a dorm parking lot in his white truck that’s loaded down with the most important possessions a 17 year old could own. The passenger door opens and out steps a 6’2 male, shoulders beginning to broaden but acne still clinging to the baby fat on his face. He’s wearing light wash jeans and a black tank top, no shirt. Just the tank. He’s got on huge aviators that are more ornamental than anything else he owns, and his hair is an absolute mane that falls straight until it waves and curls slightly at about shoulder length.

Can you see it? That was my first day of college.

I had just come off of the most exciting and proud year of my life, having found theater and discovering my own charisma, dynamism, and a deep joy in doing something I loved AND was good at. If you had asked me to use one word to describe myself, I probably would have said, with all the seriousness in the world: Cool.

I was ready for college. So ready I opted for a single dorm room so I could make friends with everyone on my floor, not just a single roommate. So ready I went out to audition for the first casting call from the theater department open to all students, not just theater majors. So ready I was taking both Intro to Acting (which would be a joke) AND Intro to Chemistry (because it wasn’t THAT hard in high school). I mean, I just wondered if college was ready for ME.

And sure enough, things got off to a great start. I started making friends with everyone on my floor and connecting more deeply with some of them. I checked out different Christian clubs and was finding friendships in several different ones. I went to nearly every social event I could and mingled 24/7 for several weeks.

But within the first two months I knew I was missing something, and it wasn’t that hard to figure out. You see, while I integrated everywhere, I didn’t really BELONG anywhere.

That’s when, through some connections I had made through the Christian club Cru (formerly Campus Crusade), I found myself headed out to the point on campus and climbing a concrete structure there with about 30 other freshmen with the sole intention of singing some worship songs together. I had brought my guitar to play along with the guy who was spearheading it, and even though I was limited in my skill set with the instrument, I made up for it with my vocal volume and confidence.

And it was bliss. There were guys I could crack jokes with and many cute girls I could flirt with. I could show off my talents. I could matter, and later I felt like I could really belong.

After we left the point, some of us went back to the common room of one of the dorms on campus. That’s where one of the most epic pictures of me and a great friend of mine was taken.

His name was Jordan and we bonded over our basic guitar skills and love of screamy-emo rock. And yes, we screamed those songs extensively that night. And that place, that moment was when I knew I was on the edge of a place I could belong, because of that picture I referenced.

Recall the 17 year old that stepped out of that truck; long hair, tank top, sunglasses. Well he found himself sitting next to a guy with orange-ish pink hair, a crocheted beanie, and a lip ring, screaming his lungs out to emo ballads just minutes after screaming their lungs out to God by the ocean.

That picture represents one of the first moments every part of who I was, who I am, started coming together. The kid who loved hardcore music. The one who loved theater. The one who loved Jesus like crazy. The one whose wounds were right there with him, seen in the endless flirting and desire for approval and need to be in the spotlight. The one who knew that his past was dark but his future was bright. The one who just wanted a place to belong and people who loved him for who he was, even if he wasn’t sure who that was yet.

Plus, as you can see in the picture, we were just SO cool.