An Ode to Century Tower

By: Marta Zherukha

The first thing I remember feeling at the University of Florida was resentment.

I didn’t want to be in Gainesville, under the Florida sun or seeing people from my high school for the 18th consecutive year of my life. But I kept up appearances. In class, I couldn’t help but participate; at the dining hall, I chatted merrily with new friends; and in my dorm room, I bonded with the roommate I met on Instagram just four months prior. I still didn’t feel like UF was the place for me.

But I also made no effort to make UF the place for me. 

Halfway through October, my roommate and I were walking through Turlington when she stopped between the Dance Marathon and Strike Magazine tables. As the tablers started to close in on us, she took a picture of Century Tower. When we started walking again, she said she had taken the same photo dozens of times since her first day. It made her happy.

She and I had similar sentiments about attending UF. When we couldn’t fall asleep due to the arctic chill of Rawlings Hall room 127, we talked about other schools we considered and places we would rather be. That night, I stayed up thinking about the simple joy of seeing the same brick tower every day. In the daily uncertainty of this place I didn’t love, maybe I could also find something to appreciate every day just for being itself.

I started by taking walks through campus in my free time. Before the days of needing VPN for TikTok, I would spend hours in that frigid dorm room learning how to make salmon bowls and upcycle tablecloths on the app rather than experiencing my freshman year. (I had a communal kitchen and no sewing machine.) But on my walks, I learned things that actually had the power to improve my life and outlook. Spending time people watching at Plaza exposed me to the community my peers found here. Discovering hidden benches by Pugh Hall allowed me to make spaces my own. Watching the bats fly out of their houses at sunset reminded me that every day ends, and I can try again when the next one starts.

And every walk, I stopped at Century Tower and took a photo of her.

My newfound confidence in myself at UF led me to want to work with my community. I spent time on the GatorConnect website looking for organizations to join but was overwhelmed by choice. Then, my roommate suggested I apply for a club with her. Its official title was “Tower Yearbook.”

I won’t say the first meeting was without bumps. I had little experience on a yearbook staff, I wasn’t in the J-school yet (which is what us CommuniGators call the College of Journalism and Communications), and I couldn’t find the meeting room for the life of me. But as the weeks went on and I went to more meetings, I learned quickly, met more people and navigated Weimer with little to no trouble. Again, if I just tried to get there, I could find myself at home.

I went on to join other clubs on campus and officially enroll in the J-school. The work I’ve done with community members in my organizations and reporting for my classes has shown me a side of Gainesville I never would have seen if I continued to confine myself and mope in that small, cold dorm room.

This is my second year as editor-in-chief for Tower Yearbook. I love UF. Instead of Gainesville, I now resent spring 2026, my graduation semester. But until then, I’ll go out of the way to see my good friend Century Tower and take a photo with her, reminding myself of the beauty within the city I grew to love so much.