It’s common wisdom among college graduates and seniors who think they know better that if you don’t study abroad, you’ll regret it. “Are you going to study abroad?” is a common question among Amherst sophomores and juniors. If the answer is yes, no one thinks twice. But if a student decides to stay at Amherst for both semesters, he’s consistently told that it’s the wrong decision, that he’ll regret losing an opportunity he’ll never have again. While studying abroad is certainly a fantastic opportunity, so is each of our semesters at Amherst.
Angie Epifano’s brave letter of Oct. 17, 2012 has stimulated much discussion about sexual violence on college campuses. While I feel progress has been made, we have much further to go in promoting the true spirit of Title IX — the promotion of gender equality and the creation of campus environments where all members of the community enjoy equal opportunities.
Over the next few months, the class of 2019 will be busy making some big decisions — which classes to take, which clubs to join and which Val meals to vow never to eat again. But they will also help make another big decision, which may have more lasting consequences for Amherst: whether the school can have social clubs.
A physicist and a writer walk into a bar. The writer sits and reads a flimsy paperback novel while the physicist pores over several large volumes of physics textbooks. The physics enthusiast then says to the novelist, “I knew a physicist who became a writer because of his lack of imagination.”
“What do you want to major in?” is a ubiquitous question among first-years during their first few months at Amherst. It’s one of those classic orientation conversation starters, like “Where are you from?” and “What dorm are you in?” The responses to the major question are always varied, but it’s striking how often they come in twos — whether it’s history and economics, Spanish and math or LJST and religion.
At her Convocation address last week, President Martin offered a spirited defense of the liberal arts, noting, “As institutions we are charged with protecting academic freedom and freedom of expression, not merely for the good of individual scholars and scientists or the good of individual institutions, but for the good of society as a whole.” It is a quote that appears to make quite a lot of sense: The mission of our intellectual project stretches beyond the confines of the collective of peer institutions known as small, liberal arts colleges.
During my second semester at Amherst, I spent most of my Friday nights at Rao’s Coffee. Around 7 p.m., I would head to town and spend a few hours working on transfer applications to colleges that, however vaguely, offered a better social scene. Or at least, offered something more like the social scene that I was looking for. I was unhappy at Amherst, and I was lonely at Amherst. It wasn’t clear then, and it isn’t clear now, that my unhappiness wasn’t directly and inextricably tied to my loneliness.
