Picture this: It’s 10:55 a.m., which means that the end of your third Tuesday lecture is only five minutes away. You’ve processed maybe 30% of the information thrown at you this morning. Maybe. All the content is scribbled down somewhere in your notebook anyway; you’ll get to it later, but definitely before your test on Friday (right?). “It’s going to be one of those weeks, huh?” you think to yourself. Your leg starts twitching. This time, though, it’s not from the stress.
Most questions that come to mind aren’t grand or conceptual in any particular way; they arise in a much more preliminary stage of the learning process, as we try to understand the details of going from point A to B. It just wouldn’t be productive for all of our hands to shoot up when the professor asks “Any questions?”, only to go over a certain part of the lecture over again.
When I see the six players in red and white on the ice, I see my fellow Cornellians, past and present, known and unknown to me, with whom I’ve shared the Cornell tradition. College sports are mechanisms to uplift the campus community, and unite its students — who otherwise diverge into a wide spread of interests — behind one common goal. For those of us primarily immersed in Cornell’s academics, sports are a healthy outlet to engage with our community. In its attempt to build a more academically inclined, intellectual campus, Cornell should look to invest more in its sports programs.
Any deviation from the four-year graduation track, particularly by taking a gap semester, for example, often connotes burnout or a lack of direction. This perception isn’t aided by the administration’s similar treatment of gap semesters, or what they call a “Leave of Absence.” In particular, Cornell’s unwillingness to recognize study abroad as well as other endeavors during these semesters by rewarding academic credit furthers the stigma that a gap semester is counterproductive to the college diploma, prolonging our studies and slowing us down.
As an underclassmen, I envisioned adulthood at Cornell and off-campus life as one and the same. Well, now living in the heart of collegetown, I feel just as adult now as I did eating RPCC brunch freshman year. There comes a time in every off-campus student’s transition from on-campus living where we must ask ourselves: Am I an adult or do I just live off-campus?
My friend was ecstatic when he thought he found his professor’s profile on Snapchat. We’d soon learn that the discovery was too good to be true; the account was not the professor’s, who quickly disappointed inquisitive students in a Piazza post. The greater irony is that as students, our communication with professors outside the classroom is indeed limited to Piazza, aside from email and now Zoom. However, as younger generations increasingly link themselves to the social media phenomenon, it begs the question how much longer this “distance” between professors and students will remain.
It was easy to think, at least when looking past the masks, that our campus wasn’t in a pandemic this past week. From the groups of students lounging on the Arts Quad to the bustling Collegetown streets, it feels as if this is the closest it’s been to “normal” since the start of COVID. And through the lively campus ambience, one seemingly minor observation stuck with me. As I took a seat on a bench before the Arts Quad, I couldn’t help but notice someone running past me listening to music without earbuds. AC/DC, a friend beside me pointed out.
Just as Ithacalves have become a ubiquitous symbol of the Cornellian campus experience on the Hill, so are our quads. I have compiled a list, ordered worst to best, of the glorified courtyards that define the outdoor gathering experience for Cornellians
Two Google tabs remained open as I decided classes for pre-enroll last semester: the class roster and ratemyprofessors.com. At times, a class’s number of credits or time slot can take the backseat to a detailed professor review. For those unfamiliar with the site, the typical instructor profile almost always features several near-perfect reviews towards the top. Naturally, you’ll ask yourself how these professors are receiving overall ratings of 3.5/5. The answer lies a few scrolls below, buried in the pop-up ads.
Between the emergence of the first snowmen in early December to the cherry blossoms of the Ithacan spring months, our campus loses much of its thrill as an outdoor wonder. Once sledding down Libe Slope grows old after the first few weeks of the spring semester, Cornellians are more than capable of spending entire winter days indoors.
The same campus that sees its students lounging under trees and across the slope during the warmer months suddenly shrivels into a dreary, barren landscape during the depths of winter. Such a paradigm shift is in no way helped by the fact that Cornell’s athletic facilities provide little refuge from snow for students during the day. If there were to be regular weekend hours when Dodson field is plowed, or when Lynah Rink offers ice skating, perhaps students would no longer have to experience winter from their bedrooms.
Over the last several weeks, I could only find one patch of salvageable green conducive to a game of catch: the thawed area between the northern 40-yard line and opposite 20-yard line on Schoellkopf Field. My attempts to venture onto other fields like Dodson behind Bartels Hall have been met with a locked fence.