“If you want to get paid to sit and eat cookies while monitoring more cookies, sign up for the M&Cs shift!”
This was the first time I heard about M&Cs, or milk and cookies. I was a first-year international student, attending a work-study meeting where we were to select shifts to work for Dining Services. A senior came up to the people in my row and quietly whispered this sage advice, which I took. (Thank you, kind member of the class of 2018!)
During summer and winter breaks from Mount Holyoke, I work as a technician and an intern at three different veterinary hospitals. Two of the hospitals treat small companion animals and one treats wildlife: the New England Wildlife Center in Weymouth, Massachusetts.
As a pre-veterinary student, I am incredibly privileged to be a part of these three communities. Over the past few years, I have developed so many important skills — from drawing blood to making small talk with clients — that I hope to one day utilize when I am a veterinarian myself.
Before there was speech, was there song? Before there was ready light, was there a flickering glow? The deepest reaches of the human heart seem to know these truths instinctively. That such simple sensory experiences — voices raised, candles held close, warm bodies seated side by side — can elicit such profound feelings of comfort, peace and kinship speaks to the power of embedded memory. Were we made to sing? To make music? To be together? To reflect? To connect?
After two years of dogged fundraising — and raising of eyebrows throughout Massachusetts — one woman’s dream became a reality. In a time when higher education for women did not exist. When educating women was seen not just as unnecessary, but as harmful and subversive.
Dear Mount Holyoke,
I fear not enough people have a favorite window here on campus. If, when asked about you, we so ardently articulate that we find ourselves in a “pretty place,” why are we so unaware of the frames that encompass your beauty?
I know we all spend time gazing out windows — when homesick and thinking of the loved ones we left behind, when pulling an all-nighter and praying for strength, and especially when lonely and dreaming of anything other than the present despair of our existence. (We Mount Holyoke students embrace angst!)