Over the four years of NYU Abu Dhabi’s existence, several events have become celebrated staples for our close-knit but busy and over-caffeinated community: Open Mic, the Downtown Campus sleepover and cultural nights, with none more exciting and anticipated than the Real AD Show.

As the only student from Oman at the onset of freshman year, my ego was large but my self-esteem was tiny. Sporting a goofy smile every morning, I asked anyone I met how their week was going and watched people grapple with what it meant to be absent from home. I didn’t allow myself to feel this absence. I placated myself with the excuse that my home was a 45-minute flight or a phone call away, with no time difference to account for. But I forgot to address what I did feel, I dreaded being in a city I didn’t know at all.

When I went to the Real AD show as a freshman with one week of classes under my belt, I was uninterested and actually peeved that attendance was mandatory. But then I watched Joshua Shirley and Claudia Carrasco Valdich, sitting cross-legged onstage, crooning about homesickness and loneliness. I burst into quiet and uncontrollable tears in my seat, realizing that in the knowledge of my proximity to my home, I hadn’t allowed myself the space to understand that Abu Dhabi was still a different, alien land to my scared little freshman self. I cried all the way until the conclusion of the show and, as I stood up to applaud the seniors, I aspired to grow enough to be that comforting shoulder myself someday. When I had some experience under my belt, I was going to audition for this show.

Almost a year later, I was on my first ever transatlantic flight to New York City, where I spent hours in coffee shops and parks furiously scribbling out thoughts on my freshman year experience, still fearful of performing. We workshopped everyday, pushing our stamina and the air conditioning in Tisch’s studios to the limit. Looking back, I wonder how silly and vulnerable I must have looked on that stage, with barely an ounce of acting knowledge fueling my intense desire to say, “if you need help, call the hotline. If you need help, I am here. We are here.” I wanted every freshman in that theater to ask for the very thing we’d felt so embarrassed to ask for: some good-old loving and caring to help us get by and get through.

The freshman experience is constantly changing but the Real AD show remains a highly quotable part of our range of daily tools to deal with college life and its issues. It makes you care: for the person in the elevator, your weird roommate and that person sitting by themselves in the same spot in the garden for days on end. It reminds you that you’re not alone and it gives you the space to feel — a thing we so rarely allow ourselves. We’re here to remind you there’s no shame in admitting when you can’t handle your pain, loud and clear, in songs sung with oodles of laughter and love. And I know from experience that for the cast, this camaraderie goes far beyond a few vulnerable moments on stage. We’re here for you. Always.