My Beloved WMU Bronco Wallet
My wallet—a small, olive-green rectangular bifold—proudly displays an embossed acronym for my alma mater, Western Michigan University (WMU), alongside the Broncos' emblem. Attached at the end is a keychain ring to keep it secure. It’s a graduation gift from Kim, my landscape supervisor—a jovial master gardener with a deep passion for the land and its abundance
Kim and I would meet before sunrise, and our steel-toe shoes were the only footprints on the campus. She was easy to spot: a big smile, a WMU crew neck, a pruner clipped to her belt, and a bunch of black trash liners tucked into her pockets for a quick change.
We walked designated routes while the students were still asleep, enjoying the beautiful grounds and rushing from one trash can to another before the wave of students arrived. Under her guidance, I became a master pruner, a tulip cultivator, and, of course, a mowing expert.
I remember chipping away at the first winter ice on the endless stairs outside Dunbar Hall. Kim came by to see how I was doing. With gloveless hands, I scraped to loosen the ice, giving a few taps with the heels of my shoes before knocking it into the creaking stairs. She was surprised by how comfortably I handled snow and ice. According to bets among my coworkers, my slender build wouldn’t last in the frigid temperatures. They did not know that snow and ice are part of my Himalayan roots. After working in the cold, we enjoyed toasted waffles with maple syrup in the break room before heading back to work for another round of winter fun.”
Along with other staff members, Kim gifted me a wallet on my graduation day at Miller Hill, next to the auditorium. I earned two touchstones that day: an Engineering degree and a lifelong love for gardening. This combination fueled my growth, curiosity, and grounding. When I moved to the Bay Area for work, I kept my wallet hidden from the chaos of the BART commute. After the pandemic, as I no longer commuted daily, I began carrying it with me more often. Typically, it stayed in my car except on days when I traveled by air.
The day before my trip to Canada this summer, I noticed my wallet was missing from its usual spot. I either dropped it on the trail or it slid under the car seat. After searching without success, I wasn’t too worried; the world is usually kind to me. However, when the credit card companies contacted me about potential fraud, I realized my wallet had been stolen. I quickly canceled the card, feeling frustrated. Although I had backup ID and payment options, losing my bronco wallet was an unacceptable loss
After returning from my trip and riding the familiar streets in my car, the glaring realization of the loss was apparent. The wallet’s usual spot was empty, weighing heavily on my heart. On one of my evening walks along the shoreline, I realized that while the loss can't be undone, it can be rekindled. This idea gradually took shape, leading me to plan a trip to Western Michigan University this fall, the season when I first arrived at that magnificent campus
The Miller Hill site has been torn down to make space for a new building, but the campus still has plenty of grass, trees, and open areas. There, I can walk in the footsteps of my steel-toed boots amid the sounds of scraping, leaves swirling, and the hum of mowing, hopefully moments away from reuniting with Kim and perhaps a new wallet.