Oberlin Blogs

In which a professor wrestles with time, flirts with an existential crisis, and wins the lottery.

Watching Harry Potter on the plane home yesterday did not fulfill my wish to land in a place where everyone still had British accents.

Travels in Bulgaria, coming home to London. Things I relied on: my phrase book, the kindness of strangers, and painkillers.

Life on Albany St and beyond.

London, week one. It's sort of like Ohio except not at all. For instance, flowers are growing.

I am beginning to think of Oberlin as a secret society, or a religion, some bizarre underground cult. Once you discover that it exists, you can't go anywhere without running into fellow initiates.

Toto, we're definitely not in Ohio anymore.

Why the semester you don't spend in Oberlin can be the most valuable part of your Oberlin education. For one thing, it raises the stakes.

It's been five months since I got back from Spain, and the nostalgia only grows stronger.

A few things I learned on yesterday's patrol with the Samaritans, a group that sends a group out to the desert every day looking for migrants in need of water, food, medicine or simply a friendly face.

To learn the routes of migration, we did in a couple of easy hours what takes most migrants four excruciating days.

What if good intentions and a strong desire to "make a difference" aren't enough?