When I first applied to become a campus ambassador, what excited me most was the opportunity to talk with people from all over the world. I’ve always loved hearing people’s stories, learning where they come from, what brought them to Berkeley, and what memories they carry with them. Out of all my shifts, working at the Campanile is where that dream truly comes to life.
Unlike the usual campus tours, the visitors who come to the Campanile are an incredible mix. Some are current Berkeley students taking a break between classes, some are alumni coming back to relive their college days, and others are tourists who just happened to wander onto campus. They don’t need to have any official reason to be there, the Campanile simply draws people in. Everyone steps inside for their own reason, whether it’s curiosity, nostalgia, or just the desire to see the view from the top. That mix of stories makes every shift feel unpredictable and alive.
One of my favorite things about being there is the conversations that happen completely by chance. Sometimes they last only a few minutes, but they leave a strong impression. And I want to share a few of them with you:
A while ago, I met an alumnus who told me something I’d never heard before: back in the early 1900s, the Campanile’s elevator actually had a transparent door. That meant on the way up, people could look through it and see the shelves stacked with fossils inside the tower (I didn’t even get the chance to see it). I was amazed, it felt like a secret piece of Berkeley history hidden in plain sight. I wish we still had that today, though now the elevator has a solid metal door. Still, hearing stories like that directly from alumni makes me feel part of something much bigger, like I’m connected to generations of people who have loved this campus.
Another time, an older couple visited and told me that the Campanile meant something deeply personal to them. The husband proposed to his wife at the top of the tower on the day they both graduated. They told me that for them, the Campanile isn’t just a Berkeley landmark, it’s a symbol of happiness, a place where their shared story began. Listening to them, I could feel how the tower holds not just the view of the Bay but also the emotions of countless people who’ve passed through it.
I once met another visitor who said he might have had something to do with the glass railings that now surround the stairs at the observation deck. He laughed as he told me that when he was a small child visiting the Campanile decades ago, he accidentally slipped near the stairs. Luckily, he wasn’t seriously hurt, but after that incident, the university decided to install the protective glass barriers. His mother even showed me an old photo of him as a little boy standing right there, smiling shyly for the camera. It’s funny to think that a small event like that could become part of the Campanile’s history, shaping the way it looks today.
Of course, not every conversation is about Berkeley’s past. Some are just random, funny, and spontaneous. I’ve met a surprising number of visitors from Germany, which always gives me a chance to practice my German (yes! I speak German!). Every time they compliment me on how good my pronunciation is, I can’t help but grin. It’s such a small thing, but it makes me proud.
One afternoon, a visitor asked me what I planned to do after graduation. I told him honestly that I wasn’t sure yet, and he burst out laughing. But instead of teasing me, he said he loved my answer. He told me to take my time, to explore, to travel, to meet people and learn from them, and that eventually, I’d find what I wanted to do. That short exchange really stayed with me. It reminded me that it’s okay to be uncertain, as long as I keep being curious.
That’s why I love my Campanile shifts so much. It’s not just about helping people buy tickets or explaining the history of the tower, it’s about the conversations that unfold unexpectedly, the little moments that turn ordinary days into something meaningful. Every visitor walks in as a stranger, but sometimes, within just a few minutes, they share something that changes how I see the world. I’ve realized that the Campanile isn’t only a place for people to look out over Berkeley; it’s also a space where people connect, where stories are exchanged, and where memories, old and new, quietly intertwine.