3 p.m. on a Monday marked my first ever class at Boston College, and as it turns out, the same went for professor Maria Bejan. She stood before nearly 300 eager students in her smart pants, boots, and statement necklace, introduced herself with a smile, and dove headfirst into her Principles of Economics course. Huddled in my second-row seat, I felt a wave of admiration and sympathy for my new teacher. Just like everyone else in the room, she had arrived in Boston just a week prior. But in contrast to the safety of anonymity in such a large class, she stood proudly in front of the blackboard, steadfast before her surely judgmental audience. In that first class, and every class since, her passion for both teaching and the topic at hand, is palpable. To the sound of the chalk meeting the blackboard, I wondered what led our new teacher to Boston. Meet Maria Bejan, a fellow freshman.
As one of the newest professors on campus, Bejan is from just North of Bucharest, Romania. Even I, as someone who participated in the international segment of Orientation, was struck by how far away she was from. I remain awed at life’s winding paths that can bring a Puerto Rican girl and a Romanian woman together. We couldn’t be that different, I figured, as she got the same look in her eyes when describing her hometown that I get when describing my island home. As if imagining her favorite spot in town, or reminiscing on a favorite food, her wistful gaze lovingly depicted the rolling mountains and friendly people. She dutifully encourages anyone to visit her home country (really, we international students should get a salary from our departments of tourism). And it’s in Romania, that Bejan’s journey to this particular moment in Boston, commenced.
It all started with a professor, presumably as enthusiastic as her, who sparked her love for mathematics and the logic behind it. After spending summers and winters in math camp, building up her impressive resume, she continued her studies at the University of Bucharest, where she pursued what she admits was the ”trendiest” of majors: computer science. It was during those four years that she had her bolt of brilliance and discovered her devotion to teaching. Jumping to explain topics to her friends during group projects, relishing in dissecting problems to their barest mathematical bones, she knew her future lay in education. The question was: teach what? Where could she apply math, computer science, and real-life decision-making? Her answer, and life work, would reside in economics.
After obtaining a master’s degree, she continued to expand her resume with a Ph.D. in economics at the University Carlos III of Madrid. And while in Spain, she noticed that she’d always thought like an economist. The social science fit into her soul like a missing puzzle piece. Her need to understand the news in an in-depth manner, logical ways, and accidental systematic thinking akin to a cost-benefit analysis, pushed her to embrace the subject.
But Bejan was still a long way from our dear city of Boston. From Spain, she chased her economic dreams to Florence, quickly thereafter jumping at the opportunity of being an assistant professor in Mexico. Taking a break from work, she moved to Houston for her sabbatical, and after a brief stint in Joplin, Mo., of all places, returned to the Southwest. Eleven years went by within the prestigious walls of Rice University when her love for Texas ran dry, the heat and humidity catching up to her Eastern European roots. If only there were somewhere in the United States with the same Romanian weather she missed so dearly.
When moving cities, you often consider work opportunities, nearness to family members, or even infrastructure. But for Bejan, what pushed her over the threshold and into Massachusetts, was the weather. Distinct seasons, enchanting forests, and snowy winters are akin to the Romanian climate. At this point, after living abroad for over a decade, homesickness would probably win out for me. But for Bejan, the pull of our campus was stronger.
“I was afraid to move to an institution that maybe I don’t like too much,” Bejan said. “So when I got interviewed at BC and fell in love with it, I said, ‘That’s gonna be my place.’”
This statement resonated so deeply with me, and I’m sure it has the same effect on many others. Is that not the story of every 18-year-old, moving away from home with entire lives packed into a couple of suitcases? We were all nervous, scared, and excited about this new beginning. And at some point, you realized, whether when you received your acceptance letter, aced a job interview, or first walked down Linden Lane, that BC would be your place.
“I really feel like everybody cares about each other,” Bejan said. “I have that feeling like it’s a nice family, that it’s not everybody for themselves. We’re aware of everything that’s around us, and everybody brings something to this community.”
I couldn’t agree more. BC is just like that. Something within its gothic walls, and between its carefully manicured shrubs, turns perfect strangers into a family. These strangers ultimately become people you will forever have a connection with.
Just like a girl I met last week, Bejan enjoys walking to campus, and similar to a classmate, she loves a good weekend hike. She commented how she’d sent a picture of the lovely orange foliage to her family via group chat, and didn’t I do that just last week? You never know someone’s entire journey, what obstacles and experiences led them to share a destination with you. As it turns out, Bejan is quite similar to the freshman class, so I asked her, “What advice would you give to new BC students?”
“Take advantage of the liberal arts education you have here,” Bejan said. “Now is the moment to explore. Here, you have so many different, amazing courses, amazing workshops, seminars, everything, you have it here. So make the best of this time, even if you are convinced with ‘Well this is what I want to do in my life,’ don’t just narrow yourself, just explore.”
I plan on following Bejan’s advice, and I hope you do too. With her confidence and enthusiasm, she appears more than comfortable in her role at BC, and after getting to know her further, I have a better idea of why that is. Decades of rocky paths, steep mountains, and breathtaking views, have carefully shaped her into the person she is. And while I’ll never know the true intricacies of her journey or the outline of each obstacle on her path, I can appreciate her destination. Most of the people I’ve had the pleasure of interacting with in this step of my own adventure have had lives completely different from mine, but instead of dwelling on the differences in our routes, I focus on just how lucky I am to have crossed paths with these perfect strangers.
