What makes you a first-year is how you’re connected with 10,000 other young adults who, if not in the same boat, are at least in the same naval fleet.
I grew up going to an all-girls, six-week summer camp nestled in the mountains of Virginia. Year after year, my friends would pester me, questioning why in the world I would want to spend my entire summer away from home without a phone, a computer or — gasp — boys. Every summer, I would go back for reasons I couldn’t fully explain.
I’m up at the crack of dawn this morning and weirdly happy about it. Actually, dawn is a stretch — the sky’s still purple and I can see all three stars visible from light-polluted Houston. My alarm went off at 2:50 a.m. On purpose.
At last, my three-month journey to Japan has come to a close. Last week, my plane touched down in America, and I am finally back in the warm, snug arms of Springfield, Virginia.
The most essential tips for getting through the most exciting yet overwhelming time in your college career.
“That is quite the bike girls” was the only warning my friends and I received before we departed on a bike ride through the Irish countryside to arrive at Mount Errigal — the highest peak in Ireland.
By one statistic, one in every 100 babies born in Japan today is considered “mixed race” — or “haafu,” which natives presumably take to mean half Japanese and half foreign. While this number may not sound staggering, it is telling that in Japan, the mixed race demographic can no longer be ignored.
As a part of my Erasmus — what they call study abroad over here in Ireland — I am interning at a magazine.
In Japan, there is a famous saying: “Mottainai,” which effectively means “don’t be wasteful.” It is used in a variety of settings, but largely in terms of garbage and food, in a spirit comparable to the “go green” movement in America.
On Monday I arrived in Dublin, Ireland—my home for the next two months. As my flight was landing, I looked out the window to see countless blades of very green grass as the Irish lady sitting next to me tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Welcome to Ireland.” In many ways, Ireland is a lot like the United States.
As a philosophy major, East Asian Studies minor and resident of the Japanese floor of the Shea House, I have dedicated a good amount of time to studying Japan and its culture.
The other day, I was sitting at a restaurant with someone else — who for the sake of this article I will call Bob — and our waitress came over to greet us.
My parents often remind me of an annoying stage I went through as a child — one I think is common to all children just beginning to explore the world.
If I had the opportunity to converse with the girl I was at beginning of my first year, I’d be sure to mention the following.
1. Refer to every grassy area as Grounds: I think I’m allergic to the word “campus.” I’m not one of those people who will overtly correct you if you happen to utter it, but know that I’m scowling on the inside and any chance at marriage with me you thought you had will forever be just a dream.
My friend sat down across from me in a corner of Newcomb, hair unbrushed, belt forgotten. It was late March and tendrils of spring had began to sneak into our routine walks from Watson-Webb to the Chem building.
Recently, University students received the opportunity to vote on their choice of three proposals offered for the 2015 – and potentially 2016 – graduation ceremonies.
I’ve taken on this insane habit lately of waking up at 7:30 in the mornings. This is nothing of my own accord, at least not entirely.
As an English major, I invariably deal with a lot of words. Poems, essays, short stories—whatever form they’re in, I’ve experienced them.
Living exclusively among young adults, our perspective within the microcosm that is the University can at times be myopic.
