The NMUN Diaries from the NMUN Virgin

Graphic by Emma Novy

IT’S FINALLY HERE! 

Jerks, first of all, welcome to my tell-all. Two weeks ago, I was forced into a train that reeked of urine and was shipped off to New York City for the National Model United Nations Conference! This is a class here at SU that anyone can take. Yes, even if you’re not a political science major. You take the class all semester, learn how to make working papers, write speeches, and basically sit there for three hours every Friday. And that gets you a week of excused absences and a trip to New York!

This trip was a fever dream. And that’s me saying the absolute least. So, like all good tell-alls, let’s start from the beginning.

The train was fine. On the way to the city, that is. We’ll be talking about the way back soon.

Nothing interesting happened until we got there. Everyone locked in, got food the second we hit the streets (I went to see a friend from Kansas, shout out Anna and the K-State Marching Band!), and then ran upstairs to our rooms to get ready for the opening ceremony. And that was our first mistake.

The speaker was thirty minutes late. I’m new to this, so I’m thinking that this happens all the time for opening speakers. Spoiler: it doesn’t. I don’t think any of us knew who the speaker was going to be at all. I was excited, I’d heard good things about who they get. This year was not exactly the greatest example of that. Mike Waltz. U.S. Ambassador to the UN, appointed by President Donald Trump.

And I can confirm, he might genuinely be the worst person to have done this. Everyone booed him (including me), and it was literally all anyone could talk about when we got to the conference almost an hour late, thanks to him. We were pissed. It was pretty much him telling us that we were stupid, and how the US wasn’t giving more money to the UN, and how the US was the perfect country. Now, mind you, he did this in front of a room pretty much full of mostly democratic college kids. It was so stupid. Fuck you forever, Mike Waltz. Cancelled in the name of the NMUN kids.

Now to the actual conference itself.

I’d describe it as hell on Earth with a little sweet treat at the end of the day. We were doing 12 to 13 hours of work with a tiny hour in between. I was sick as a goddamn dog that whole week. Coughing every two seconds, phlegm stuck in my throat, nose stuffed beyond belief. I was a walking corpse in a suit that was fly as hell. It felt generally unorganized, and frankly, a mess. Was it fun? Yeah. I love talking to people. So, I was stuck in a room with around 25 kids from different walks of life, which was pretty dope. I got to know so many cool people, learned about what life is like in different countries, and heard how the one unifying thing with us is that we all hate Trump. And that was truly just beautiful to witness. Nothing will bring a group of 20-year-olds together like the collective hate for a dictator of a president.

That week meant a lot to me. Time to get semi-serious. Even if I am as outgoing as possible, I still really struggle to make friends sometimes. I’ve had, as I’m sure many of you reading this have had, terrible experiences with people treating me like garbage. Laughing at me behind my back, talking shit, as teenagers do. But this week felt like a breath of clean air, even if the city smelled like garbage all week. It was the first time in my life that I’d been in New York by myself without my mom. Being there with people my age, laughing, having fun, doing work that I enjoyed doing, felt like I could finally see a future for myself, with people who really care about me. And I’m really grateful for that. So, to the delegation of Colombia, thanks. I owe you guys big time.

But our week wrapped up in a nice, pretty bow. Our closing ceremony was great. No Trumpies, we talked about the woman who was orbiting the moon, and we had a good example of what a speaker should do. Then we packed up all of our stuff, had dinner at a Mexican restaurant in Times Square, and hopped on the train back home.

My life was threatened by an old Italian guy from Long Island for coughing. I slept like garbage the whole way back, and I ate a mini box of Cheez-Its. So all things considered, that was a pretty good week.

If you’re thinking of doing Model UN, do it. Only once. Get the experience, have the fun, learn the things, then never do that shit again. NMUN: I LOVE YOU! And I also hate you!

Love, Nina <3