To this day, “Drops of Jupiter” remains the most meaningful song in my life. It’s the first song I play when I come home from college to a dusty piano.
It’s hard to pinpoint exactly when I began to singlehandedly dismantle my own self-confidence. Beginning somewhere near the beginning of fall semester, I fell into a debilitating routine of insecurity and systematic self-doubt—triggered by no one specific event, I somehow convinced myself I was failing as a student, as a friend, as a writer and person. It’s strange how no one really talks how transitioning into your second year at the University can be hard.
As an English and Religious Studies double major, I frequently enjoy the privilege of navigating the “what on earth are you going to do with that degree?” question.
University Career Services concluded its first Second Year Week — a new initiative to provide second-year students with professional opportunities — this past Friday.
In her short time here at the University, first-year College student Attiya Latif has immersed herself in clubs and organizations related to promotion of diversity, tolerance and acceptance of students of various backgrounds.
Last February, after receiving an email from his brother with the simple message, “so good” and the song “I Wanna Get Better” by the Bleachers attached, fourth-year Commerce student Collin Waldoch had an idea.
A late start and botched reservations are saved by burgers and good conversation.
One evening at the end of summer, my three best friends and I were parked in our usual spot outside the ice cream parlor, listening to the final notes of “Build Me Up Buttercup” fade into an uncomfortable silence.
How do you tell someone you have three cats without sounding like a lonely spinster? Not possible. These days, being a cat person is not trendy.
Because it’s over, I think I’m permitted to confess to the world how at the start of the experience, I had absolutely no idea what I was doing when it came to sorority rush.
In 2012, one Clemson student became quite the innovator when he created the National Tigers for Tigers Coalition.
Yesterday, my suitemate walked into my room inquiring about unofficial transcripts. When I asked why she needed to know, she replied, “I’m applying for a couple of government internships and a transcript is required.” Shocked by her tone of indifference, my reply went something like, “So, you’re applying for a government internship...that would put you in the government...like the U.S.
I don’t read for pleasure nearly as much as I should. Last semester, most of my time was spent leafing through textbooks, course packs or required classics, so I could argue that I simply didn’t have the time.
For a long time, I felt area requirements were a punishment for my incompetence—a painful reminder of my place at the bottom of the University’s food chain of intelligence—and deserved to suffer. During my first year, I spent a countless number of hours redrafting my schedule for the next seven semesters – trying desperately to find ways in which I could squeeze in all of the requirements without sacrificing the more “important” classes.
When second-year College student Shannon Rauth joined the Women’s Swimming and Diving team, she introduced her teammates to the story of Cameron Evans – a family friend who battled with leukemia for seven months before passing away in 2012.
1. Tony Bennett One day last spring, I was borderline hangry, driving maybe a little too aggressively and pulling into the Harris Teeter parking lot.
Nestled underneath the Student Health Center is a newly renovated Student Disability Access Center (SDAC)—a place full of people who work every day to make sure all students, regardless of disability, have the opportunity to succeed at the University. SDAC provides a range of services for any students with a diagnosed condition which limits his or her ability to perform academically or otherwise.
Engineering students Glenn and Emily enjoyed dinner at Michael's Bistro and found they have a lot in common.
While college is full of ups and downs, our community has experienced the worst down — eternal goodbye — far too often this past year.
When I first arrived at the University, I was immediately struck by the hyper-involvement of my peers.
