When I first considered transferring to Smith during my freshman year, I was intrigued by the possibility of attending a small liberal arts college. I was deeply unhappy and unfulfilled at St. John’s University, a large Catholic university close to my home in New York City. There was no strong sense of community or engagement on campus, and the school felt like the wrong fit. In high school, I struggled to fit in among high-achieving peers who aimed to attend schools like Smith. My self-esteem was low, and I wondered whether I should even bother going to college. I decided to attend St. John’s because it seemed like the most realistic option and I didn’t know what else to do. When I arrived on campus, I realized why my peers had cared so much about finding the right fit. Everything began to click: college is a formative, once-in-a-lifetime experience. I wasn’t actually living during my time at St. John’s. I was just surviving from day to day and racking up credits.
Posts published in “Opinions”
In case you haven’t noticed, The Sophian is changing. A lot.
I have been traveling to India since I was born, and my cultural identity has always been twofold. Kashmir for me is inexplicably sacred –…
As an international student from Asia (and a very stereotypically Asian), when I first arrived at Smith, the academic and social environment that are very…
Welcome to the Smith neighborhood! There are four neighborhoods here: Garden, Ivy, Mountain and Paradise … named for Paradise Pond, don’t get all uppity!
Welcome to the Smith neighborhood! There are four neighborhoods here: Garden, Ivy, Mountain and Paradise … named for Paradise Pond, don’t get all uppity!
During his speech at the opening ceremony of “Inclusion in Action” on April 10, Anthony Jack, author of “The Privileged Poor,” recalled a quote from James Baldwin: “I love America more than any other country in the world,” he said, “and, exactly for this reason, I insist on the right to criticize her perpetually.”
We’ve all been on it, spent hours scrolling through it, shamelessly brought it up in conversations, and possibly contributed to it ourselves.
The polls are showing, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the preference for democratic candidates lies with affable old white men.
In the dark, stressful times of finals season, there was a light. We call that light “Pet-A-Pet Day.” Pet-A-Pet Day is a beacon of hope amidst a shore of dread.