When I look back at my four years at Wooster, Iím torn. I canít decide whether to feel happy that it happened, upset that itís over or wonder what could have been if I had made different choices.
When I was in high school applying to colleges, my mother always said that it didnít matter what school I chose, because one can get the same education anywhere as long as they make the most of it.
These words came back to me recently, and it made me wonder if I really had made the most of my college experience. Continue reading Opening doors to the future
Looking back on my four years at The College of Wooster, I donít know how exactly I feel about the experiences I have had. In a way, it almost feels as if I just moved into room 216 of the Holden Annex as a first-year. And now, ironically, I am living in room 216 of Armington Hall as a senior and am about to embark into the ìreal world” away from the Wooster bubble.Iím not scared to graduate; in fact, I canít wait. I am definitely ready to move on from this place and get on with my life. Four years has been almost more than enough for me at this school. Continue reading My time at Wooster has been rather edifying
The Italian painter Umberto Boccioni was obsessed with capturing movement, perhaps better called ìdynamism,” in static art. The majority of his paintings and sculptures are bold forms depicted either at the height of their momentum or in the various stages of their movement, creating overlapping images and colorful waves that indicate the progress the object has made through space and time.
My parting editorial has nothing to do with Umberto Boccioni, the futurist movement, of which Boccioni was a participant, or art in general. This fact is just something I have picked up in my four years at Wooster, something Iím not really sure what to do with. Instead of being about modern art or trivia, this editorial is about what we learn at college and what we do with it. Continue reading Money well spent: look, Mom, I learned stuff
The word ìgraduation” often cues bittersweet feelings in seniors during these last few weeks of school. Empathizing while listening to friends verbalize their variety of intense emotions has been easy enough to do over the past three years; but experiencing the end of college firsthand has unexpectedly inspired a similar reaction in me ó one that is sudden, affecting and entirely foreign.
As the calendar snuck up to the end of April, my mindset alternated between denial, potent nostalgia, anxious anticipation, the rehashing of regrets, general acceptance and most often blind terror. Continue reading Facing the real world at last