When I first walked into the classroom on that bright September morning, I had no idea it would become my favorite place on campus. The room wasn’t anything special—a typical college lecture hall with rows of desks and a whiteboard at the front. But it wasn’t the room itself that made it special. It was the class, and more specifically, the professor who taught it.

The course was called “Storytelling in the Digital Age,” an elective I’d signed up for on a whim. I was a computer science major, and this was supposed to be an easy A, something to balance out the calculus and algorithms that dominated my schedule. I wasn’t expecting much, just a break from the usual grind. But from the moment Professor Anderson started speaking, I knew this class would be different.

“Storytelling is at the heart of everything,” she began, her voice calm but captivating. “Whether you’re writing a novel, creating a video game, or designing a user interface, the story you tell defines the experience.”

I’d never thought about it that way before. To me, stories were what you read in books or watched in movies. But as Professor Anderson spoke, weaving examples from literature, film, and technology, I realized how storytelling permeated every aspect of our lives. And suddenly, I was hooked.

Each class was like an adventure. Professor Anderson had this way of drawing us in, making even the most mundane topics feel like part of a grand narrative. One week, we’d analyze the structure of a popular TV show, breaking down how the writers built suspense and developed characters. The next, we’d be exploring the user journey in a mobile app, discussing how the design told a story that kept users engaged.

But it wasn’t just the content that made the class special. It was the way Professor Anderson encouraged us to think creatively, to see connections where we hadn’t before. She wasn’t just teaching us about stories; she was teaching us how to tell our own.

I remember one assignment in particular that changed everything for me. We were asked to create a short story, but with a twist. The story had to be told entirely through the user interface of an app. At first, I was stumped. How could I tell a story without words, without characters in the traditional sense? But as I started thinking about it, ideas began to flow. I created an app mock-up where each screen revealed a piece of a mystery, with clues hidden in the design elements themselves.

When I presented my project to the class, I was nervous. I wasn’t sure if it made sense or if anyone would even get it. But Professor Anderson’s eyes lit up as she navigated through my app. “This is brilliant,” she said, her voice full of genuine excitement. “You’ve taken the concept and made it your own. This is what storytelling is about.”

Her words stayed with me long after the class ended. They were more than just praise; they were a validation of something I hadn’t realized about myself. I’d always thought of myself as a coder, a problem-solver. But through that class, I discovered a love for creativity and storytelling that I never knew existed. It opened up a whole new world for me, one where technology and art weren’t separate, but intertwined.

By the end of the semester, “Storytelling in the Digital Age” wasn’t just a class to me. It was a turning point. It made me see my work, and myself, in a new light. I wasn’t just writing code; I was crafting experiences, telling stories in ways that were uniquely my own.

Even now, years later, I think back to that class with a sense of gratitude. It taught me more than just the mechanics of storytelling—it taught me to see the world differently, to find the narrative in everything I do. And that, more than anything, is why it will always be my favorite class.