Connor Moran ‘26 came to Guilford expecting a future staring at a computer screen. What he found instead was a community that pulled him out from behind the keyboard and toward people – and ultimately led him to change his major, his sense of purpose, and how he wants to move through the world.

He arrived planning to study computer science, imagining a tidy life of remote work, good money, and relative isolation. It didn’t take long for that vision to feel hollow.

“Very quickly, as I came into Guilford, I realized that I didn’t want to be isolated,” Connor says. “I wanted – I needed – to work with people.”

That realization didn’t come from a single moment. It grew out of a steady accumulation of small, human ones, starting before he ever enrolled.

Connor applied to Guilford almost on a whim after a friend was admitted  enthusiastically. He submitted his application the week of an open house and showed up alone. That day, an admissions staff member handed him his acceptance letter in person and greeted him by name.

“That was really cool,” he says. “People actually cared about my name. They wanted to know who I was, even before I was committed.”

The pattern continued. At Spring Into Guilford, at orientation, and in early campus encounters, staff and faculty remembered him, greeted him, checked in. By the end of orientation, the decision felt settled. “That’s when I really felt the community for the first time,” Connor says. “I knew this was where I wanted to be.”

Community, he says, is what defines Guilford. Not just friendships, but the sense that people across campus are invested in your growth. “You’re not just a number in a system,” he says. “You’re a name and a face. People recognize you. People want to see you succeed.”

Initially, Connor believed he could find that support while pursuing computer science. Conversations with faculty helped him see the program as more people-centered than he expected, emphasizing real-world application and collaboration. Still, something didn’t quite fit.

The turning point came during his sophomore year, when he enrolled in a study abroad program to Kyoto, Japan. Before he ever boarded the plane, the coursework – his first formal study of religion – changed how he thought.

“Religion taught me how to think about people and culture,” he says. “It’s not just about belief or non-belief. It’s about how people exist in the world.”

He switched majors to Religious Studies midway through the semester and never looked back.

On second reference, Connor says studying religion sharpened his curiosity about what drives people — their values, stories and ways of seeing the world. That perspective now shapes how he approaches conversations and relationships. “I’m not just trying to learn quick facts about someone,” he says. “I want to understand who they are and what matters to them.”

That impulse toward connection played out across campus. Connor became a tour guide, an RA, later an assistant community director, and held leadership roles in student government, including chair of the Inter Club Council. Each role reinforced the same truth: working with people energized him.

Those experiences also deepened his academic life. As an Honors student, he found a network of peers and faculty committed to intellectual rigor and mutual support. His senior thesis explores kenosis — a theological concept of self-emptying — examining its implications within Protestant thought. The work, he says, reflects both his academic growth and his values as a follower of his faith.

Today, Connor is considering a future in real estate or higher education—different paths, same throughline. Both center on service, guidance, and relationship.

Guilford didn’t change who he was, he says, but it gave him room to become more fully himself. “I was sort of just existing before,” he says. “Here, I learned how to live in community.“