Oberlin Blogs

I got my grades for my first ever semester in college back a few weeks ago, and I'm...pretty pleased, actually....

There we were, plodding along side by side on the icy streets of Oberlin, snow soaking in through the mesh of our running shoes, brisk wind turning our limbs rosy red, winter sun on our faces.

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?

Not impressed? Well, I bet you won't believe what arrived in my mailbox this morning.

Living with a host family is a difficult adjustment after two and a half years in Oberlin's dorms.

I've already got crazy nostalgia for the long, lazy summer days spent lounging in the hammock on our porch, the nights of impromptu jam sessions with my more musically inclined friends, the smell of freshly baked bread rising up from our kitchen.

I learned that there is a certain art to pie-making, kneading from the center out, making sure that the middle isn't too thin, and being careful to leave a slightly raised border along the outside so there's some semblance of crust after it bakes.

Drugs, thugs and racism: a smidgen of what I've learned so far on the border.

Tomorrow will be my first opportunity to listen to my completed mix, The Long Road Home. That last leg that seems to last oh-so-long will be much quicker this time.

In this post: rejection letters, romantic rejection, my petty impulses, The Kenyon Review, and children's publishing.

We were getting bedraggled, after countless handstands, cartwheels, and rope climbs. Yet as the weeks wound down, we got closer and closer as a group.