Author: lmottel (page 1 of 6)

“On Doing Things Alone” by Nadya Ellerhorst

As we approach the spring semester’s grand finale, with final RSO meetings and bouncy house-laden end-of-the-year events,  it’s really hard to feel alone, especially with everyone having the shared experiences of preparing for finals while trying to conclude things on a fun note.

I definitely consider myself the type of person who actively tries to make time to go to as many events on campus as possible throughout the year. Doing so is a great way to take a break from academics and to have memorable, enriching, potentially eye-opening experiences, be it at a theater performance or a guest lecture. I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t appreciate the occasional freebie, either. Sometimes, however, attending such events solo can prove to be a challenge. 

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“Nearing the Summit” by Felicia Seybold

Back when times were simpler, I used to plop down on the couch with my Nintendo DS and my troubles would melt away as I became completely absorbed in catching Pokémon or destroying zombies with my botanic army. I had a tiny world in the palm of my hands, filled to the brim with memorable characters, dazzling worlds, and soundtracks that pull on my heartstrings to this day. Some time last year, I decided to buy a Nintendo Switch Lite for myself in an effort to replicate the simple joy I had as a child while playing DS games. I had acquired my Switch Lite at a time where I was at the end of my rope trying to survive a global pandemic and go through college online. Social media was no longer cutting it as an escape route; too often it bombarded me with the endless deluge of tragedy occurring every day, tiring me further when I needed rest. So, I decided to take a cue from my childhood, and once again plop down on the couch with a cozy video game rather than scroll mindlessly through my phone. Though I was turning to video games to forget my troubles, I could find myself relating to the struggles that my video game characters had to go through, and in some ways it helped me to cope with my own while in college. Out of all of the games that I have played, none has showcased this more than the game Celeste.

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“Ode to North Central” by Kate Dawson

Walking out of my dorm

 

I meet students sitting on the grass 

gossiping, studying, relaxing,

taking a break from life.

 

They stake into the ground a volleyball net 

and soak in the rays beaming down 

from the sun. 

 

Classes take their leave for the weekend, 

while university buildings continue to shelter students 

whose work remains a weight on their shoulder. 

 

Breaking the silence comes the announcement of noon, 

courtesy of bells that send their sounds rushing

out of Memorial Hall.

 

Scampering squirrels interject the path of travelers

prancing down the bricks, where townspeople separate

young adults clumped together. 

 

Horns honk, 

reverberating off the pavement. 

 

Walk sign is onfades into the distance.

 

 Students sputter over the crosswalk, 

racing the cars speeding towards them. 

 

Main Street commotion fills the ears of those

who journey up the stairs, 

greeted by a mini town packed into one strip of asphalt. 

 

Air whips across faces 

riddled with blushing cheeks. 

 

Hands grip coffee drinks, 

each with a unique store logo brandishing the front. 

 

Time carries on 

as errands are run 

and assignments are completed. 

 

Or 

leisure takes focus

as procrastination temporarily hides to-do lists. 

 

Picturesque, 

the scene so full of life waits 

to be captured in a still picture 

from the lens of a phone

that can’t express the true atmosphere and movement. 

 

Air turns cool, 

sky turns dark, 

and day turns night.

 

Grass regains its place 

upright 

after being indented by daytime visitors. 

 

Today’s pushed off worries 

become tomorrow’s goals. 

 

Falling into bed at night, 

basketball chains rattle outside. 

 

The sound permeates my window. 

 

North Central sleeps, 

waiting to breathe life 

into the Green

again tomorrow. 

 

This is a poem about “the liveliness of North Central that comes to life especially with good weather,” composed by  Kate Dawson, a Class of 2024 Elementary Education major in the Honors College. In celebration of National Poetry Month, “186 South College” will be posting the work of Honors students weekly throughout the month of April and May as bonus content. If you or someone you know would like to share their work as a guest writer like Kate, we are still accepting submissions at this link: https://bit.ly/186Poets22

“Heirloom Cooking” by Felicia Seybold

After working for two hours straight on an Honors project worth a substantial slice of your grade, your tummy rumbles. “Just another paragraph before I get some dinner,” you say to yourself, but your stomach insists. You click “Save” on your Word document at least twenty times before clam-shelling your laptop and walking to the fridge. A solitary incandescent bulb illuminates half an onion, ketchup, and a cheese stick once you open the door. You close it, check your pantry as a diversion, and come back to the fridge, half-expecting a magical grocery elf to summon a three course meal, but that sad trio greets you once again. “Perkins it is then,” you think to yourself, though this is the 10th time this week you’ve ordered out.

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“On Connections & Croissants” by Lauren Mottel

The morning sun greets you from its climb in the sky as you exit the train station, backlit by clear blue skies and seagulls circling overhead. You don’t even have to think as the click of your boots on the pavement guide you across the street to a small storefront with an orange awning. As you cross the threshold, an 8-bit rendition of “Für Elise” announces your presence to the display case of croissants, torsades aux pommes, chocolate muffins, and other treasured pastries. And there, before you and your friends can take a half-step further into the bakery, the owner excitedly walks out from the back kitchen exclaiming, Les filles! Bonjour, les filles! and ushering the cashier away so she can select our pastries for us with a grin. 

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