Sometimes when I tell people that I’m Korean, I feel like a liar. And other days, when I go to the Asian Center for Empowerment (fondly known as the ACE) on campus, the word has never felt more right. Growing up in Vermont, I’ve never known many other Asian people. And I can count on one hand the number of people I’ve met who are, like me, a quarter Asian.
“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!)
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!)
In my final semester at Mount Holyoke (I graduated in December 2018), I’m hit with waves of nostalgia as I see the places and people that have become important parts of my journey — that from a naive, timid first-year student to a pretty bold senior. But if you had asked 17-year-old me if I would get to this point of nostalgia, or even get through these four years, I’m pretty sure I would have scoffed. Loudly. That’s how unfathomable the idea once seemed.
I could fill 16 tabloid-size pages with all my thoughts about the Mount Holyoke News, and I could probably do it on a tight deadline. But who would read that?
What I will say is this: Joining the student newspaper was the best decision of my college career. Nowhere on campus feels more like home than Blanchard 324, the paper’s newsroom since 1988.