An Open Letter to the Class of 2019

To the SMCVT Class of 2019,

I've thought long and hard about what to say for this final post.

(For those of you who have followed me for the past 4 years, and perhaps discussed my blog with me at some point, you'll know that I wasn't sure if this day would come. After much deliberation, I have decided to close down "Lauren Likes Saint Mike's." Someday, possibly soon if I feel up to it, I may blog on some other forum, in which case I'll make note of it here. But I think I've outgrown this blog, for reasons you'll figure out as you read on.)

This post is coming to you over two weeks after graduation. I've needed time to think about it, especially because as I watched all my Facebook friends land jobs, get engaged, and generally move on with their lives while I sat around stuck in a sort of incredulous haze wondering how I actually got to this point, I suddenly lost the confidence that I had the authority to advise you on how to spend your next four years.

After two weeks of constant "What do I do with my hands?" moments, I realized that exactly what's making me feel a little self-conscious right now is in fact what gives me the position to say this--it's not authority. It's relatability, at a time when the people on both sides of this letter are in need of assurance.

Class of 2019, I am here to tell you that just like the majority of you, I do not know what I want to do with my life.

I struggled with this, and to a certain extent still do. As anyone would. I thought that this made me ill-prepared to graduate, and part of me was afraid for the coming of that day.

But it came. And when it did, I reported to Alliot, where a seat was waiting with my name on it in order to line up alphabetically for the procession. I was surprised to see that an envelope was waiting for me on the chair, with my name scribbled on it in pencil.

I opened it to find a brief, yet very important note. It was the letter I had written to myself during one of my first days at Saint Mike’s, in orientation.

It listed five things I wanted to accomplish during my four years, most of which I managed to do (how it is that I lived in Vermont four years and still never went skiing, I will probably never understand).

After the list, I wrote some notes to myself.

In big, bold letters: “TRUST SAINT MIKE’S.”

And the very last thing my wise 18-year-old self wrote: “Trust yourself.”

For those of you who may not know, Saint Mike's has gone through just as many transformations over the past four years as I have personally. They range widely from new bathrooms in the first-year dorms and my (unfortunate) bangs phase to an entirely new student center and my stint as a freelance journalist in Morocco.

Just as the exteriors changed, the faces changed, too. I had gone to Morocco during my Spring 2014 semester, meaning I didn't get to say any official congratulations or goodbyes to the people in the Class of 2014 who I had gotten to know so well. I didn't realize how hard that would hit me until I got back, of course. When I returned to Saint Mike's in the fall, I recognized almost no one, other than my friends in the Class of 2015.

Though I did meet a few of these new faces, I mostly kept to my now much smaller group of friends who were there before I left. At this point, I was totally consumed by my senior seminar documentary project. I was also working an internship, and trying my best to look outward and seriously consider what I wanted with my future.

Blame it on senioritis, or reverse culture-shock. Blame it on whatever you want. All I know is that at some point during my senior year, I stopped feeling like I belonged at Saint Michael's College. Although I had plenty of moments of rejuvenation--especially while giving tours and being able to remind myself what I loved about this place at least once a week--I was suddenly a stranger in a strange land.

Everyone has a Saint Mike's Story. How they got here, what they did, the experiences that made Saint Mike's another home to them. During the last months of my senior year, though I was scared to leave, I also felt as if I was trying to continue writing a story that should've already ended.

Why am I telling you all of this? Because you need to know, Class of 2019, that Saint Mike's is no longer mine. It's yours.

I think the straw that broke the camel's back was when we found out that the rumors circulating around Bergeron, otherwise known as Home of the MJD Majors Zombies, were true. The place that I grew up in over the past four years was being re-purposed.

There were good reasons for this change, mostly because it was going to give a much-needed update to our health services. However, most people in the department were against this decision. Bergeron wasn't the best space for us as it was, but we were making do and happy enough that we had our own place equipped with two multimedia labs. We were all very skeptical that the new plan that someone (not our department) had come up with, which was to relocate us (the third largest major) into the same hallway in Jeanmarie as the business majors (the first largest major), was going to work. 

Needless to say, I was glad to be graduating when I was, as I had serious concerns. 

Now back to graduation day. That letter to myself. The phrase written in big, bold letters.

TRUST SAINT MIKE'S.

I realized that my trust had faltered, knowing that Bergeron will not live to see another class of MJD majors. 

RIP Bergeron/Berg/70's Rest Stop/Pizza Hut/That place next to the tennis courts/Zombieland/and most recently, Ber_eron.

That's not to say that the incoming MJD majors need worry. If any of you are reading this right now, you should know that despite my opinions, I am still 100% certain you will receive the best education possible. That's because it doesn't matter where you learn on this campus, what matters is that you're here. And here, you have the best faculty and staff possible. Not only because they come from all walks of life, and they're all incredibly accomplished in their fields, but also because they care about you. They don't know you yet, but they will. They will know your name and face, and they will welcome you into their classes, their offices, and their lives. They will dedicate all of their time and energy to you. The professors in the MJD department are brilliant and resourceful people, and they will give you what you need. Jeanmarie will become the home to you that Bergeron was to me, because your professors (and classmates, by the way) will make it that way. Just as Bergeron was an integral part of my Saint Mike's Story, Jeanmarie will be a huge part of yours.

But the reason why recognizing where my trust lies now is so important because I know where my trust has shifted. It's because of the last line I wrote to myself four years ago.

Trust yourself.

Ladies and gentlemen of the Class of 2019, remember this: if, one day during your senior year, you begin believing that you don't need Saint Mike's anymore, then Saint Mike's has done you right.

And more importantly, you've done it right.

Yeah, you heard me.

If I'm being honest, my main reason for my vehement disapproval of moving MJD out of Bergeron was due to my fear of change and apprehensions about life after Saint Mike's. Saying goodbye to Bergeron was the beginning in a long string of goodbyes, the symbolic way of showing that my time here is over.

It's no longer mine. It's yours.

Right now, as you graduate high school and head into the Great Unknown, you need Saint Mike's. You need it the same way I did. And you need to TRUST SAINT MIKE'S.

And one day, four years from now, you will be glad you did. You will trust the education you received. Therefore, as you move on into the Greater Unknown, you will have something limitless, something that you'll carry with you.

You'll trust yourself.  

You need this, because like I said at the beginning, many of you--in fact, I bet most of you--will not know what you want to do with your lives. Graduation will come, and when it does, most of you will have changed your plans (I'm talking to you, kids who are certain they're going to grad school after this).

Just as you trusted Saint Mike's, you'll need to graduate trusting that you'll be okay, no matter what life throws at you. You'll know that it's perfectly fine not to have all of the answers. In fact, you might thrive off of not knowing in the end. Because once you decide you know nothing, you'll stop limiting yourself. The world will open up to you.

Saint Mike's is the first step. You've made a great decision, to be here. Take advantage of every opportunity that this amazing place offers you. Follow your instincts, not the path that you have imagined for yourself right now (some people are lucky enough to have their instincts match their imagined path; if so, you're much more figured out than I ever will be, kudos, and disregard this message). Consider the advice you receive from professors, friends, parents and mentors, but at the end of the day, follow your heart. 

I took me two years at Saint Mike's until I truly began trusting my instincts. Most of you know that story--it's what took me to Morocco. For two years, I trusted Saint Mike's whole-heartedly to get me to that point. In the time leading up to and during my semester abroad, I trusted Saint Mike's as the crutch that held me up when I was uncertain. On my graduation day, I trusted that the diploma being handed to me came with experiences that I could've only gotten at Saint Mike's. And now, I trust that that diploma is a considerably small step in everything that I'm going to achieve.

Make the most of these four years. Make them count. TRUST SAINT MIKE'S. Trust yourself.

Congratulations, Class of 2019. Saint Mike's is yours. 

In May 2019, you'll hand it down to the next lucky bunch. But for now, do what us Purple Knights do best: create your own Saint Mike's Story.

Dad and I goofing off on graduation day. I'll always be grateful for the day forever ago when he suggested I look at just one more school on the way home from a long weekend of college tours in Vermont (hint: it was Saint Mike's).

Best wishes of luck and love to you all. As my MJD friends like to say, "Keep calm and Berger-On."

- Lauren Kopchik

(PS: If you want to contact me about anything Saint Mike's related or my post-grad/alumni experience, please send an email to laurenkopchik@gmail.com as I won't be checking my SMCVT one as often. I may be heading off into the Greater Unknown, but I'd still love to talk about SMC with you!) 

The Do's and Don't's of Alliot Hall

I'll admit, my visits to Alliot--our older student center here at Saint Mike's where the main dining hall is located--have been very scarce lately. I tend to only stop in when I don't have time to cook for myself, and even then I'm normally in a rush so I grab something to eat on the go. I did have a sit-down meal for Thanksgiving dinner, an event I would never miss. But otherwise, I've enjoyed having a quiet, late-night dinner at my house, normally with one of my roommates.

Don't get me wrong, the food in Alliot is pretty great and it's always nice to run into friends or say hello to the friendly staff. But after the end of your second or third year, you'll probably appreciate having the option to not eat cafeteria-style every day as much as I do. And if you'd rather not cook for yourself, you can still keep your unlimited meal plan. Plenty of my friends use theirs daily, and they love the convenience Alliot offers as well as the well-balanced meals they can choose from.

Either way, it's good to know that Alliot etiquette is something to take note of. A recent visit reminded me that it's important to remember that this is a shared space, one that students respect and maintain as a way of making meals delightful for everyone.

Here's a few things to keep in mind:

1.) DO pronounce it Alli-OH. Silent T. We're French here, folks.
DON'T say Alli-oT. Everyone will know you're a noob.

2.) DO refer to the dining hall as Alliot.
DON'T call it the "Green Mountain Dining Room." Ever. Yes, that is its formal name. No, nobody actually uses it. If you do...again, noob.

3.) DO have your Knightcard ready for Rosemary to swipe at the front desk.
DON'T wait until you get to the desk to go fishing through your bag, pockets, etc. trying to find it. Nobody likes to wait in line behind someone who's unprepared when they're hungry.
DON'T wear your Knightcard on a lanyard around your neck...trust me, just don't.

4.) DO get to know Rosemary well. Ask her how her day is going or what she recommends on the menu. Believe me, she's a cool lady and being friends with her has its perks (can anyone say, free coffee? Swiper no swiping!)
DON'T make Rosemary angry. Ever.

5.) DO bring in your laptop, books, notebooks, etc. ONLY when it's not busy. Wanna grab a snack while you work on that paper? No problem, as long as it's off peak hours (like 3-4, when it's too late for lunch but too early for dinner) and you sit in a corner space where you're not taking up a ton of table room.
DON'T expect to work on homework during dinnertime. It's too loud, crowded, and distracting. Leave your laptop in your backpack and place it in a cubby or the coat-check area, or drop it off at your dorm between class and dinner.

6.) DO make solid plans for what time to meet your friends for Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner, and make sure you all show up together.
DON'T expect to be able to find them or get a seat near them if you don't make those plans.

Because on Thanksgiving, you want to be able to chow down in front of people you're not self-conscious with.

7.) DO wait patiently in line at the stir-fry station or the grill.
DON'T cut the line or yell at the servers if they got your order wrong. Come on guys, we're adults here.

8.) DO feel free to mix and match at each station. Wanna grab a burger, but also try the quinoa salad at the vegan station? There's no judging here. Go for it!
DON'T cross-contaminate food. There's a reason why the peanut butter is at a separate station than the jelly. Use the utensils provided for each food, and be conscious of what it touches on your plate.

9.) DO use the bagel tongs. And the cookie tongs. Please, just, if there are tongs, use them.
DON'T pick something up with your hands, look at it, and put it back.

10.) DO participate in a cup-drop IF and ONLY IF you have an empty cup available to you.
DO pick the cup back up after dropping it.
DON'T throw your cup.
DON'T drop your cup if there is liquid inside of it.
DON'T start a cup-drop just because. Cup-drops happen after one person accidentally DROPS a CUP.
DON'T drop (or throw) anything else on purpose, including but not limited to: utensils, food, people.

11.) DO let a worker know if the creemee machine is broken.
DON'T break the creemee machine and then walk away.

12.) DO invite others to sit with you, if you're feeling in the spirit.
DON'T keep asking if they said no once already.
DON'T feel offended if they say no--chances are it's a good reason, like they're waiting for someone, in a rush, working on something, or maybe they just want some alone time. They know the offer stands and they're surely grateful for it, but they also don't owe you their presence--or an explanation.

13.) DO clean up your spot when you're finished eating.
DON'T leave a mess. Come on. Not cool.

14.) DO scrape any unwanted food from your plate into the compost bin, and place your dishes neatly on the conveyor belt.
DON'T throw something that's not biodegradable in the compost. It is not a trash can. One thing that many people don't know can't be composted--the string to your teabag. Detach it from the bag and leave it on your plate. It'll be taken care of when it goes through the conveyor.

15.) DO take as much food as you want. After all, you're paying for it and it's buffet-style for a reason.
DON'T waste food. If you're still hungry for more you can always go back up for seconds (or thirds...we're all guilty of it).

16.) DO talk to our amazing staff at Alliot about your food restrictions or allergies.
DON'T suffer in silence. Please don't do that.

17.) DO be considerate of Alliot's hours of operation. (7:15 am-8:00 pm on weekdays)
DON'T expect to have a huge selection for dinner if you walk in at 7:50.

18.) DO ask the Alliot staff about the bag lunch option if you're in class or on the run all day.
DON'T go all day without eating because you think you're too busy to stop in Alliot.

19.) DO take advantage of our other dining hall, Knights at the Round Table (but please, call it Sloane--it's in Sloane Hall), the restaurant-style option on North Campus. It's included in the meal plan.
DO call and make reservations before you go.
DON'T forget to check the Sloane menu, which changes every two weeks!

20.) DO make requests/give compliments on the comment cards in Alliot and Sloane. They're there for you and your voice counts!
DON'T forget to thank the awesome staff--DON'T let their hard work go unnoticed!

Well friends, bon apetit!

On Senioritis.

Friends, funny story for you! I just found a post that I wrote waaaaay back over winter break, before this semester even began. Interesting...must've been my senioritis kicking in which caused me not to post right away and then forget about it! It's a bit of a long one, but if you enjoy my rants as much as my roommates (I bet on Merrill being the first to read this) then you'll want to make a cup of tea and put your feet up. You're welcome.

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Winter break is almost up, and I'm (almost) ready to head into another semester. It also happens to be my last.

It's a bit surreal to be a second-semester senior. Nothing feels quite right at the moment. Part of this could be that I'm typing to you on a laptop borrowed from my sister, as mine kicked the bucket. Too bad, I had gotten used to moving my mouse to the on-screen keyboard that was perpetually open for whenever I needed an L. And this laptop certainly isn't as pretty, without the "I Like Saint Mike's" and "FRIEND" bumper stickers decorating it.

But no worries. I still "Like Saint Mike's" and I am still a FRIEND to whoever wants or needs one (read: everyone). Even though, these days, I may not always show it.

My closest friends this past semester served as witnesses to a rather strange transformation. The kind, moderately extroverted and actively involved campus citizen they once knew turned dangerously self-centered, dropped more than a few former responsibilities, and refused to leave the house if it wasn't necessary. Though always a homebody, I withdrew into my own little world much more than I had in the past, and my presence almost entirely disappeared from campus. People that I used to see frequently, I'd end up only running into once in a blue moon, like if I decided to leave the comforts of my couch to, say, check my mailbox. "Where have you BEEN this semester?!" they'd say, equally genuine about their happiness to see me as well as concerned for my well-being. I repeatedly told them that if they wanted to see me, they could come visit TH 214. Though I tried to be friendly, the message was clear: I'm not going out of my way for you.


I know. Harsh. At first I quite honestly thought there was something wrong with me. I had become completely disinterested, and disengaged, in my immediate surroundings. I woke up in the mornings and groggily dragged myself to class, then went directly back home. On days that I had my internship, I took the bus downtown immediately after class and at the end of the day would once again recede back into my house, walking quickly in a straight line from the stop to my front door, looking at the ground so I didn't have to engage in unwanted pleasantries with passersby--even familiar faces. I was certainly glad to see acquaintances, but only if they made the effort to walk over to the remote 200s townhouses to pay a visit. Otherwise, I wanted nothing to do with, well...anything.

Then I took a look around at my housemates, neighbors, and other senior class friends. And I realized--it wasn't just me. It was just about all of us. I may be a more extreme case of it, but it seems that all at once, in our final fall semester, the class of 2015 went as off-the-grid as humanly possible. What happened to our community?

That, my friends, is a product of Senioritis.

"The monkey on your back is the latest trend." 

We've all heard of it. And believe it or not, Senioritis exists in a much more intense way in college than the high school version. Think you're really done with your high school homework assignments? Just wait until the late night you're sitting in Bergeron your senior year, working furiously to hand your project in on time, on your fifth cup of coffee, and you have this realization: In about six months, I could be getting paid to do this.

Over. It.

At first, my housemates and I all thought it was an "abroad" thing: come back from seeing the world for a semester and it puts a lot into perspective. Suddenly, the whole "world" that was Saint Mike's seems so insignificant it's almost laughable. This could certainly be a piece of the puzzle. But as the months passed and all four of us still remained generally cranky five days a week, we knew we couldn't only blame it on the experiences we had last spring.

To all college seniors, present and future: you will experience this at some point. You will at least once dread sitting in a classroom, no matter the subject and who's teaching it. You will get extremely tired of making yet ANOTHER resume or portfolio. You will begin feeling like you've spent 21 years trying to prove yourself, and for what? Because people still don't seem to believe you. You will get really annoyed at underclassmen for no reason other than their existence, and then you will judge yourself for being "that senior" who ruins everything for everyone. You will sit in your required 100-level LSC class thinking, "why do I have to be here and why do all of these people seem so young?" You will procrastinate on everything, even the things you really enjoy doing (hence why I'm spending the last few days of winter break stockpiling blog drafts and why you'll be reading this weeks after it's written--so that this semester the blog doesn't go unattended for months on end). You will respond to most questions with "so what?" and become totally disengaged in your community, at some point--even if just for a few days. You will get sick of parties, loud music, and the grill. You will go to bed very early and wake up very late. You will lose touch with people on campus, sometimes even ones that live very close to you.

And I want to tell you something. It's okay.

Sure, it's not ideal to spend a whole semester in this state. But if you're like me, you'll know that you haven't wasted your time. Your circle may have grown a bit smaller--okay, maybe substantially smaller--but there's nothing wrong with being introspective. If you've used this time to do some serious self-evaluation, then you're still on the right track. Especially as seniors, it's important now more than ever to really consider the person you are versus the person you want to be and what's missing to get there.

Am I suggesting becoming a social outcast? Well, no. And you can bet that I'm going to make sure I spend some time this semester reaching out to people I've lost touch with. Despite a lot of couch potato tendencies that I'll have to work hard to break, I've done major work this semester focusing on myself and my priorities. It turns out I knew a lot of those already--family and friends will always be at the top of my list--but I've also embraced an attitude of self-acceptance. And at a time when the future is so unclear, I've relied on a very simple mantra that I know to be true: I'll be okay.

It's strange to at once feel a hefty dose of cynicism for everything around you and to also feel this sense of world wonder at the same time. But think about it: for the first time in our lives, nothing is certain. At the end of this semester, we are not going on summer vacation. We are not going back to school (unless you already have grad school plans, which if you do, kudos and good luck). We will probably try to "find a job," but where will that lead us? The possibilities are endless.

Then the cynicism kicks in: but there are "no jobs," all these applications say I need 5+ years experience, I have to move back in with my parents?, I'll probably be a waitress forever, and OMG STUDENT LOAN REPAYMENT. So you can see that on any given day, you may be experiencing either end of the spectrum or even both simultaneously. And your head will want to explode. And that is why you can't be bothered with the local happenings of your small college.

Not possible.

But here's a way to twist that. Friends, consider yourselves liberated. Hooray, you've stopped caring! As it turns out, your indifference to absolutely everything can indeed help you. Because for the first time, you can totally and completely speak your mind. I don't mean in a way that offends or hurts other people (I may be honest, but not to a fault...), I mean in a way that makes your voice heard on things you're passionate about. For me that's social issues. It turns out that while sitting in that 100-level LSC, while contemplating the youth of those around me, I couldn't be passive anymore. We were discussing the matter of institutionalized racism in America, and I very suddenly one day exploded in a full-on rant about the problem with media coverage related to Ferguson. My classmates stared, as I had been mute for most of the course.

I took creative liberties with assignments that I would have never taken had I cared more about hitting all the points to get the best grade possible. While filming for my documentary class, I went where the story took me rather than taking an easy way out. I got the story first and fit it into the criteria later. While creating my advertisements, I bent the rules of selling something "used" to fabricate my own makeup-recycling company, activating an imagination that had eluded me for most of the past four years. In my creative writing assignments, I held nothing back. I stopped caring about what my classmates or professors would think of me if I wrote what I honestly felt, and just wrote it. It felt good to unleash thoughts without self-censorship, something that has haunted me despite my desire to write my best work, simply out of shyness.

Once I motivated myself to stop procrastinating and get ish done, I ended up taking more risks. Most of them (MOST) worked out for the better. Some of them didn't. But hey, guess what? I learned a lot from those! And I'm alive, and my GPA is intact, and I think maybe I have a little more self-esteem. Gaining confidence from your mistakes, folks. A lovely byproduct of not caring so much. An unexpected gain from Senioritis.

Just don't let it eat you alive. If you use Senioritis as an excuse to repeatedly not study or not hand in assignments, you get what you get (more on this one another time). And, quite frankly, what you deserve. But if you use it as a catalyst to explore, whether it's inner, outward, academic, whatever, then you can come up with some real good stuff.

Just think of it this way: no matter what, you'll be okay.





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A looking-back, end-of-the-year update on my thoughts here:

Well, I think I was pretty angry/confused when I wrote this, and tried to seem like I wasn't...? But at the same time, I was kind of right. I remember being more of a shut-in last semester and repeatedly thinking that I was "doing senior year wrong," but also being too comfortable to have the motivation to do anything about it. And this semester? Well, I did spend more time than I would've liked in front of a computer, but that's pretty expected when you're making a documentary. I was also very over winter, and pretty much spent the entire month of February indoors.

But I do think I made a lot of progress in several ways. First of all, the whole self-assessment thing is basically a daily activity, but I don't think I mind. Hopefully it helps me be a better person, and I think I've learned to present myself in the best way possible for certain situations while still being genuine (great skill for job interviews). As long as I don't become too self-absorbed and lose sight of the needs of others around me, it's a good thing.

And, with the increase in warm weather and sunlight and a decrease in workload (my documentary was well-received by a small audience this weekend and I'm tying things up there; I really only have a paper and one small assignment left for my other classes) I've been able to get myself outside more, spend more time with friends again, and simply enjoy the moment. Our last class day is tomorrow and I hand in my final assignments on Friday. After that, I can let the freedom of being a college senior with literally nothing to do take over for ten blissful days.

Then I graduate, and, you know. Maybe that should be another post topic.

For now, I'm going to try to get to that paper--despite the senioritis--so that I can enjoy the sunshine for the rest of this beautiful week.

The Instant Gram.

Has anyone ever thought about picking apart the word "Instagram"? Like, how did they come up with that? Just a thought. Anyway...

In case you don't know about it yet, Saint Mike's started this cool new Instagram account this semester called @knightlifevt. It started with my housemate Alex, and has been circulating around to students with a new person taking over it every week. It's a great way to see what daily life is like for our students at #smcvt!

This week is my turn. I hope you'll join me as I work to finish up my senior seminar project (due on WEDNESDAY...yikes!) and partake in all the Saint Mike's-y goodness before I head home for Easter break on Thursday.

Follow me @knightlifevt and in any other normal week @laurenkopchik , and remember to like/comment or email me (lkopchik@mail.smcvt.edu) if you have questions about Saint Mike's!

Snow Days at Saint Mike's

The view from my front door on this snowy day.

As I often tell my tours, the "snow day" is a rare occurrence at Saint Michael's College. Since we are a fully residential college, classes are never formally cancelled for the school. Most students have a less-than 5-minute walk from their domiciles to their classrooms, so it's pretty understandable.

("Come on, this is VERMONT. We don't stop for a few snowflakes!" says every native Vermonter, as they stand in 3 feet of snow bundled in their L.L. Bean coats wearing lumberjack hats and shoveling out their Subarus. Put on your big girl boots and toughen up, kid. We're in for a long winter--groundhog said so.)

However, just because it's still easy for the students to show up doesn't mean it's always this way for professors, so sometimes classes are cancelled on an individual or class-by-class basis. Every morning in the winter, students all over campus wake up in the morning and rush to their windows. If there's so much as a single flake in the air, they rush to their laptops with excitement equivalent to a small child's as they check their emails.

Now, I've heard plenty of stories. Profs SKIING to class in the morning to stay on top of their syllabus, doing everything they can to bring knowledge to their students (they're dedicated, and they are Vermonters, after all). In fact, many of them also live very close to campus and don't have long walks themselves. But, every now and then, a snowstorm can be too much for even the most well-weathered SMC professor.

So it is with great pleasure that I opened my laptop this morning, still wrapped in my cozy blanket and wearing my fuzzy sleep socks, to find that my prof for my only class today didn't want to risk it. He advised that we use the spare time to work on our projects and wished us a happy day.

Rather than venturing out in the cold, I decided to take him up on that opportunity and work from home on some things that needed to be done as well as more planning for my senior seminar project. I write to you from the warm comforts of my couch, wearing those same fuzzy sleep socks, sipping on some delicious French Vanilla hot chocolate.

Happy Snow Day to all! Stay warm everyone!

There's so much to be thankful for.

I stole my title from a Josh Groban song on his Christmas album--because yes, I am already listening to Christmas music, and no, I am not ashamed of it. Moving on.

I know it might be a bit overkill to make a post during Thanksgiving break about what I am thankful for, but I decided to take a page from Merrill's book and take a moment to look at life. Especially in terms of recent events in the past few months alone, I'm realizing more and more how truly lucky I am for all I have.

First and foremost, I am thankful for family. From my immediate family, to my sweet grandmother, to my cousin who will be married this April and everyone in between. For better or worse, these are the people I'm stuck with (just kidding guys...sort of...). They're the ones who have helped shaped me as a person and supported me to become who I am today. They were here in the beginning and they'll be here my whole life, just as they always have, and I think that's amazing.

I am grateful to have known all four of my grandparents, and one great-grandparent.

I am grateful to have both of my parents, still together, as a strong presence in my life. Their support, despite frequent differences in opinion, is perhaps the sole significant factor in what has most enabled me to explore and live the way I've wanted to. Though I've put up with plenty of "black sheep" jokes over the years, I know they're proud that I'm their...uh...unique younger daughter.

The Kopchik family on Thanksgiving, circa 2011. 

I am thankful for the girls of #TH214...though you definitely already knew that by now. I could (and have) go on about them all day. All I can say is, senior year won't be the end for us. Before I start crying real tears, I'm moving on.

They're my kind of crazy.

Over Thanksgiving break, I had the opportunity to return to my old high school during school hours for the first time since I walked out of those doors on the last day of classes my senior year, way back in 2011. I visited my old history teacher's class, where I spoke to his African Studies students about my semester abroad in Morocco. This caused me to reflect on a few things:

I am thankful for the teachers in my life, all of whom instilled in me a love of learning and healthy sense of curiosity. From my own father, who taught for over 30 years, to my favorite school teachers throughout my childhood and young adulthood, to my professors and mentors, and all of my informal "teachers" who have proved invaluable along the way--every single one of them showed me the importance of not only knowledge, but wisdom. And all of the other good things (eloquence, for instance...#oops).

I am thankful, time and time again, for Morocco. I am thankful for experience, opportunity, and travel, and I've had a lot of all of those. But I can't think of a better way to express that gratitude than to reflect on the time I had in Morocco, which was the epitome and culmination of all of those things and even more. I am thankful that I was welcomed with open arms into a country I hardly knew anything about before arrival. I'm thankful the the hundreds of strangers I met along the way who helped me with simple good deeds, who smiled when they saw a lost girl who just needed a little kindness, and of course who listened patiently as I tried to explain what I needed in a mixture of grammatically broken languages, bad accents and hand gestures. I'm thankful to my host families, my friends from around the world, and the cats--the CATS!

I'm grateful for Fatima and Lina, who I met in Morocco and who I still talk to on a regular basis. Though there is more distance, our friendship only grows stronger.

I'm grateful that my host family still stays in touch, and that even those who can't speak English still let me know they're thinking of me and communicate by sending me pictures of the kids or silly Facebook stickers. I'm also grateful that they seem to know exactly when I really need them. When I'm having a bad day or feeling particularly nostalgic, I open my inbox and without a doubt, there they are.

And just when I feel like some things are slipping away, or I get sad because I look back on Morocco and wonder if I'll ever experience something like that again, something happens to bring it all back. Like a former teacher inviting me to talk to his class about it. Or the time Peggy Imai asked me to speak on a panel to parents of students who want to study abroad. Or when I give a tour, and the students are particularly interested in discussing it. All of those memories suddenly come rushing back, and though it's a bittersweet experience, every time I am thankful that I get to share my story with others.

Readers, I am thankful for you.

Some other unsung heroes? I am thankful for two guys in #TH217, who vehemently refuse to make the hashtag I created for them a thing. They, as well as a bunch of other kids on campus, have been great friends since freshman year, and college would not have been the same without my extensive SMC family. I am also thankful for Sheila, who I have known since high school and have gotten so much closer with in college. She has been there for so many important moments, and there is nobody else I'd rather do my senior seminar project with this year.

She's a gem! <3

I'm also thankful for the incredible people at the Champlain Senior Center, a community that I only joined very recently but I've already grown quite attached to. While conducting research and doing interviews for a film project and for senior sem, I've gotten to know some incredible ladies who have remarkable stories to tell. My visits to the Center have easily become a highlight of every week and the warm welcome I've received there has gone unmatched to any experience I've had other than Morocco.

Last but not least, I am thankful to Elizabeth ("Iz", as I like to call her), who I have known since the 7th grade and have therefore gone through every awkward phase in life with. As someone I don't get to see very often these days, I've come to realize her importance more and more as time goes on. As my grandma used to say, "absence makes the heart grow fonder." Iz, my heart is as fond as humanly possible right now, so it's about time we had a girl date this coming break.

There are so many other people and things in life that I am thankful for, but I think you guys get it. Like my buddy Josh said, there's so much to be thankful for.

Best wishes,

Lauren

(PS, I'm also thankful for music--currently listening to "Need a Little Sunshine" by Augustana, one of my favorite bands...who I am very grateful to have seen in concert at Higher Ground recently with my housemate Cait. Dream come true!)

Yes, I am procrastinating right now.

Good morning, readers!

After the past few tours I've given, I've been thinking a lot about the way I represent myself to students. I am a self-defined hard worker, and I do believe my professors, classmates, and colleagues would agree.

However, I am not a robot. When I first became a tour guide, I used to be afraid to admit my faults--like how, on a daily basis, I STILL struggle with time management. Normally when I'm speaking to prospective students I paint it as a thing of the past, something I "used to" have a problem with until I took my first year seminar course and learned tricks from my professor to stay on top of my work.

I will give myself the credit of knowing that my time management skills have indeed improved immensely since my freshman year. This comes naturally, as you become more used to the college routine and the knowledge that you're going to be scheduling your week and doing things differently every semester.

But if I'm being honest with myself, the struggle is still real. And I think that's true for most of us--we will always have days, weeks, or semesters when we just cannot get a grasp of what the perfect schedule is for us.

Gosh, where did the time go?

I think this is important to recognize, nothing to shy away from, and nothing to be embarrassed about. Because time management skills and procrastination are such huge issues among our generation, it's necessary to talk about.

So, back in the day when I was a first-year student, I wasn't quite sure how to handle the whole college thing. For the first time in my young adult life, my day wasn't dictated by a bell schedule. I had to keep an eye on the time for myself and get myself to class on time. I had more responsibility and more freedom at the same time--I mean, how weird it was that I didn't have to start the morning with the pledge of allegiance, that I could go put my books away in my room rather than my locker (and maybe take a nap before my next class while I was at it), and that I could freely venture off-campus during the school day if I wanted to? I didn't even have to take gym class anymore! It seemed great.

Then, a few weeks into the semester, I suddenly became incredibly overwhelmed. I realized that I had no idea when I should be eating, sleeping, or doing homework, and two out of three of those things ended up often happening at 3 a.m. (I bet you can guess which ones). I'd show up to class with dark circles under my eyes. I hadn't yet discovered coffee, but the black tea in my to-go mug was a constant. It was around this time that Professor Sloane, my first year seminar instructor, decided to talk to my class (most of whom looked as much of a wreck as I did) about time management.

Since then, I've pulled more than a few all-nighters. I've eaten pizza at 4 a.m. I've spent my weekend engaging in fun activity after fun activity (or laying around watching Netflix) until 10 p.m. on Sunday evening, a prime time to start thinking about homework (and not actually starting until 11). I've admittedly been late to class due to trying to complete or print an assignment last-minute. I've made all the mistakes and poor time-management choices one could possibly make.

Why am I telling you this? To remind you that you are not alone and it happens. We all procrastinate and we all make some of those bad choices. It doesn't make us bad people, it makes us normal people.

So, what do I do when I get stuck in a procrastination rut?

-You're working on a paper. Your research is done and laid out in front of you, you've got Microsoft Word up on your computer, and twenty minutes ago you typed a heading and your first two sentences. Since then, you've been staring at the blinking cursor on your screen in a total daze. What gives?

This is your brain telling you that you need to take a break. You need a few minutes to get yourself back into the groove you were in earlier, or something that will help you transition from the reading and processing information phase into the writing phase. Rather than letting your brain sit idle, as that can easily get you to lose interest, turn your attention to something else that will help you get into a good mindset for the task at hand. For me, that was switching over to write this blog post. I just finished my research for a paper I'm working on, and halfway into my first paragraph began to zone out. So I came over here. Is it a form of procrastination? Yes. But it's a productive form of procrastination (strange such a thing can exist, I know) and as soon as I'm done with this I know I'll be ready to focus on my paper.

-You just don't want to do it. But you have to.

More often than not, this will happen to me when I have to leave my house in order to work on something, such as when I have a project that involves using Adobe programs and I have to walk over to Bergeron or Jeanmarie and get on a computer. The way I handle this is simple, but it's effective. All I do is repeat to myself how much I truly enjoy the work I'm doing. Hopefully, especially by the time you're in college, you're passionate about what you're learning (if you're not, then the source of your problem isn't procrastination, it's that you might not be doing what's best for you, and you might want to re-evaluate what you really want to do). Once I get myself off the couch and over to a computer lab, I get completely lost in my work. I'm so transfixed on my project that I don't realize how much time passes (which explains the whole 4 a.m. thing) and I often leave the lab feeling great about the time I put in (and wishing I had started earlier).

-Your friends want to chill, but you have stuff to do.

Maybe they finished all their work while you were binge-watching Gilmore Girls and eating a tub of Cheese Balls. That was your choice. Take ownership of it, pity yourself for a few minutes, go through the stages of anger while you think about how your friends are having a great time without you, and then move on. Chances are they're doing the same thing this Sunday that they'll be doing next Sunday (or something equally fun), and maybe you can join them then, if you work your schedule out better this week. In fact, make that your goal so that you can enjoy that time.

If you do choose to hang out with them over homework (maybe they had concert tickets or something out of the ordinary was happening), you need to take ownership of that decision, too. You know you're getting home at 11 p.m. and you still need to write a speech for the next day that counts for half your grade? Well, okay, but realize that when you're still awake the next morning, you made this choice. Make some coffee, put on a nice dress and a smile, rock that speech and then go home and take a long nap. It happens to all of us. Just don't make it a habit, and remember above all that you need to take care of yourself.

So kids, that's that. Manage your time well. If you make a mistake, forgive yourself, and remember for next time where you went wrong. Now that I've had a productive hour of procrastination, I'm ready to tackle that paper. Let's get to it!

PS, I'm stealing this cute idea from my lovely housemate Merrill: What I'm listening to right now: "Brothers" album by The Black Keys

The Pre-Return Jitters

Hello, friends. You're witnessing a makeover.

As you can see, "My Mosaic" has returned to "Lauren Likes Saint Mike's". The background has returned to a school-spirited theme, albeit more subdued with a simple Purple Knights color-scheme rather than anything obnoxiously designed (I hope). I have returned to America. And very soon, I will return to Vermont.

I have to admit, parting with "My Mosaic" is one of the more difficult things I've done this summer. Hence the header photo of the kasbah in Ouerzazate. I decided that can stay just a little bit longer.

Life is a mosaic. I'm not in Morocco anymore, but don't worry, I'm still working on mine.

The truth is, a part of me will always be in Morocco, and a part of Morocco is always in me (they don't call them cliches for nothing). I get so frustrated when I can feel so much of it slipping away the longer I am home. The general themes of what I learned stay, but minor details--the things that really made the whole experience special, made it mine--change or fade away altogether. I very badly want to go back. In my worst moments, I sometimes wish I never came home.

But I know that Morocco would have never been possible if it hadn't been for Saint Mike's. If I never went to college I never would have studied abroad; perhaps I never would have traveled at all. If I had gone to a college other than Saint Mike's, I would be on a completely different path. Maybe I would've gone somewhere else, maybe I would've stayed at my school all four years (a very distinct possibility, since many colleges don't transfer financial aid to students studying abroad--something I was very shocked to hear from my friends at other schools who I met in Morocco. Luckily, they found other ways to afford it). Would I be happy? Probably. I am naturally a pretty happy person, after all. But I'd just be different.

Despite my heartsickness for the people, sights, places, food, smells, and everything else I fell in love with in Morocco, I have a lot to look forward to. In just over a month, I will be back on campus for senior year. I will be working hard on my senior seminar project with Sheila and at whatever internship I end up with through my experiential learning course with Professor Cleary. I will be enjoying the company of friends who I consider family, most of whom I have not seen in over seven months (wow--it's about time). More importantly, I will be welcomed into a place that's ready to accept who I am now, with all of my new experiences and everything that has changed me while I was off venturing through the "real world". Almost all of my friends went abroad at the same time I did, meaning they know what it's like to make the rough transition back into normal life. Those who didn't have already endured long hours of "Why Morocco is the Best Place Ever" rants over the phone or Skype, and will most likely hear hours more when I see them in person (really, guys, thanks for being willing to do that). The Study Abroad office, creative writing folks, Office of Admission, and plenty of other groups on campus will welcome me with open arms and ears, asking me to speak as much (or as little) as I want about this past semester. I couldn't ask for a better place to go after something so profoundly influential happens in my life. I left Morocco and had some time at home, and now I'm ready to go home, if you know what I mean.

There are worse places I could return to.

Worse people, too. God I miss these guys. (Yes, I did intentionally choose the most unflattering photo of us all that I could find...you're welcome.)

Even though this year is going to be crazy and go by in a flash, I'm excited to return. It's actually weirding me out a little that I haven't been to Vermont in so long. It'll be another bittersweet transition when it's over, since I'll be graduating in May and I still have no idea what I want to do with my life. But we won't think about that just yet.

Anyway, my summer has been broken up in to a bunch of strange little segments. They've been great-- after a month of being home, I returned to South Dakota to visit old friends in La Plant for three weeks, working with Simply Smiles again and keeping that Saint Mike's connection going (another opportunity I would not have had without SMC). Then I went to California for a week to visit a friend I made in Morocco and plan to keep for life. I returned back home to New York last week, where I started up a great internship at Mark & Phil, a local non-profit that does marketing and web design for other non-profits. It's awesome to be home and learning in a new environment, but much of this summer segment feels a lot like waiting. I'm now in the home-stretch, so all I can think about is getting back to school and everything that has become so familiar to me over the past few years.

I'm being pulled in so many directions now. If you attached little strings to me and then placed the other ends on the people and places that have influenced who I am--South Dakota, California, New York, Vermont, Morocco, Ceuta, Connecticut, Massachusetts, Canada, and on and on--you'd have me bursting at the seams, ready to spill the stories of thousands, and also you'd have no string left. (Sorry, that ended up being a lot less deep than I thought it would be.) I want to explore and keep moving forward and find even more stories to collect, but I also want to return to all of the places that started my momentum in the first place. It's like I expected myself to do a marathon, but instead I'm on track for a relay.

Who knows where I'm going next?

I didn't know then, don't know now.

But it'll be fun trying to figure it out! (I'm making excuses to post Morocco pictures, I am fully aware of that.)

I want to go, I want to stay, I want to turn around, I want to rise up, I want to take a nap. I'm happy, but I'm confused. I'm not quite content with where I am right now, but I think that's a good thing--that means there's still something driving me to keep going and learning and loving and being and doing.

I think a lot of this has to with not just a longing for the past, but for the future. My immediate future is set (as soon as I pay that tuition bill that came in yesterday). But the finish line is in sight, and after that there is so much uncertainty. Sometimes it freaks me out. And sometimes, on days like today, it excites me. It's the first time in my life where I will have to choice to do anything, go anywhere. I could return to Morocco, or South Dakota, or California. I could look for a job in New York City, or stay in Vermont for a while. I could backpack Europe or South America. I could couch-surf America. Or I could (and let's face it, I probably will for a few months at least) hang out on my own couch in good ol' Poughkeepsie, just as I am now.

Time moves in a circle. Seasons change, people change. But I always figure out a way to return home.

"So no one told ya life was gonna be this waaay..."

Here's to one more year at Saint Mike's!

Cheers,

Lauren

"What do I do with my hands?"

During our ISJ period, my friend Fatima and I constantly had this saying. Whenever something awkward would occur, or we were just fed up with a situation and didn't know where to turn, we'd make a joke out of it by looking at each other and saying, "What do I do with my hands?"

Well, now ISJ is completely over. Rachel and I gave our presentation today, to many tearful reactions as well as plenty of heartfelt comments about our progress. And you can bet I was asking myself this question as soon as I sat back down in my seat. The work is done, my schedule is suddenly wide open, and I only have two days left in Morocco: what do I do with my hands?

My friend just informed me a little while ago that I can now consider myself a college senior. Right. So everything is really hitting me right now.

Today was just very heavily emotional. After a long night of very little sleep, I was up and going at 8:30 to get to school for our program evaluations and then the first round of presentations (the rest of our group will present on Friday, our last day here). It was nice to spend the day with the whole group, but seeing a number of people cry today was draining. Not only were we discussing really heavy subject matter, but we were all experiencing mixed feelings about the semester ending and having to go back home.

This week marks the end of something incredible. During this four-month stretch of time, I've grown more as a person than I have in my whole life. This past month I stopped referring to myself as a student and instead as a journalist. It's kind of like the first time someone describes you as a woman, rather than a girl. Like trying on shoes that are shwiya (a little) too big but you start walking in them anyway, and soon enough you forget they were big.

The truth is, this isn't over. This week marks the official end of ISJ and the program, but my classmates will agree with me when I say that we have all had bigger goals in mind from the outset. We're all going to continue working on edits and stay in touch with our advisors to get their advice about pitching our stories to media outlets. We're not stopping until we're published--with the work that we've put into these projects, it would be silly to stop now.

And as heartbroken as I am to be leaving this amazing country and the beautiful people I've met, I know it's time to take what I've learned here and go back to my "normal" life in America and apply it. I'm going to work hard to improve every facet of my life that I'm even remotely dissatisfied with. I've "done Morocco right," as another one of our sayings here goes, and it's given me the confidence to go after the things I want and to take more chances. Ultimately, even if I fail, my experiences are more rewarding.

Besides, something is telling me that Morocco hasn't seen the last of me. Someday, inshallah, I will come back. Just as Vermont became a second home for me 3(!) years ago, Morocco has become a third. I am forever grateful for that.

I'm having a really hard time formulating words about what this experience has meant to me. I find that the thing I fear the most about going home is constantly floundering to find the answer to "how was it?" I don't think I will ever be able to describe it in a way for others to understand. I won't be able to understand my friends' experiences, even though I will be able to relate to the frustration of describing them. So I ask all of my dear friends at home, please be patient with me. I know everyone will be excited to see me and hear about it, and I'm so excited to see you all too. But I am also incredibly overwhelmed, and unless you want to sit with me for hours so that I can adequately describe, "How was it?" then all you're probably going to get as a response is "Good." But with time, you'll hear plenty of anecdotes. Those little stories will come together to give you an idea of Morocco, or rather, my time in Morocco. This is My Mosaic.

I highly encourage you, if you ever get the chance, to make your own.

Besslama,

Lauren