As a Community Leader and Baylor fanatic, it was a very hard decision to decide to study abroad. I wanted to stay at Baylor so badly that I didn’t believe it would actually happen. Believe it or not, here I am! It is now 18h04 (6:04pm) in France and 11h04 (11:04am) in the United States. My family members miss me and keep in contact through my daily blog and e-mail. I talk to at least one of them every day. I miss them, my friends, and Baylor, but I wouldn’t trade this opportunity for the world!
Last night I had dinner with a pastor’s family and a group of students from a local Baptist church here in Caen. The entire night was full of laughter and fellowship. Every once in a while I would turn to one of my American friends and say something in English, but for the most part, I was speaking French the entire time. It was something of which I could have only previously dreamed. It was me, in France, with Francophones, in a Christian atmosphere full of joy. I never thought that I would be able to express myself in French like I can in English until I experienced this night. At one point it was just me telling a story to seventeen people all listening attentively. Was this actually happening? Could these people actually understand me? YES! They could! They were laughing! It’s a miracle! Only God could bring me out of my comfort zone, to a country in the middle of Europe where I CAN speak the language.
This semester our Baylor Basketball teams are on fire and I’m missing it! I knew that there was a possibility that this would happen. That’s why one year ago I had a conversation with my hall director. I was having mixed feelings about studying abroad because I knew how much I would be giving up at Baylor to live in France for a semester. She told me that she wasn’t about to let me stay at Baylor for a semester and listen to me complain about the opportunity I could have had to be in France. She was right. I would have been screaming my head off in the Bear Pit at the Ferrell Center every weekend, but I would have been miserable. Thanks Sharia! (Mom, please don’t hurt her for talking me into it!)
I may have only been here for three weeks, but my life has been rocked! Imagine a way of life totally different than the one you’re used to living! Imagine walking down the street and seeing men and women hauling long loaves of bread to their home! C’est marrant, as the French would say. Imagine speaking another language that has gender for objects like boat and table! Imagine yourself at Baylor for the first time, trying to make friends, but being afraid that you might be made fun of for your American accent. Let me just say; when I return to Baylor, there had better not be a single foreign exchange student sitting alone in the cafeteria! I’ve been there! I’ve done that! It’s not easy, nor is it fun! Life is filled with ups and downs, but for every down, there is an up twice as long. Every day is a new experience! Every week I’m a new person. Every month… (We’ll have to wait and see!)
Tonight I have two friends coming to visit my French Family and me for dinner. I have been so blessed to be placed in a Christian French home where I’m treated like another member of the family! Just now my French mother offered her home for my parents to come and visit during the month of April. Who does that? She also said that she would keep the refrigerator stocked in case we get hungry. She said all of that in French!
I can’t wait to come back to the states to share all of the amazing experiences that I have and will have had, but I am sure going to miss France! I’ve already had two dreams where I was back in the States. They were cold dreams that made me thank the Lord that I woke up in France! I don’t know what He has planned for me for the next three months, but if there’s one thing that’s for certain, He has plans and they are big! Stay tuned! www.cole-en-france.blogspot.com
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Friday, January 25, 2008
Living & Learning for Friendship
I’ve been thinking a lot about friendship lately; what it is, where I learned about it, and how it comes to fruition. In the summer of 2006, I picked up a copy of the Dallas Morning News and encountered an article detailing a recently released study published in the American Sociological Review that found that Americans report having only two close friends, down from three close friends when a similar study was completed in 1985. The most discouraging news of all, however, was that the study found that a quarter of Americans say they have no other person with whom they can talk about important things (i.e., a real friend). This is double the number of people who said the same in 1985.
This is the increasingly “friendless” culture from which our students hail. You can imagine the reasons we should be concerned? A friendless society is lonely, and lonely people suffer an existence apart from one of the important ways God forms us—through others. Dietrich Bonhoeffer says it well: “Being free means being free for the other because the other has bound me to him. Only in relationship with the other am I free.” Our stories, for sure, are meant to be told, heard, and retold once again.
But what is friendship? As of this month, I’m approaching 300 friends on Facebook. I, like so many others, no doubt use the term loosely! Aristotle describes three kinds of friendship. The last and most rare is a mutual commitment to the shared conception of the good human life. He seems to describe those special relationships that encompass common moral commitments, an uncanny willingness to seek the best in, and for, a friend. And, these friendships come with permanence, a commitment for the long-haul, through thick and thin. I’ve been questioning . . . How many relationships like this do I have? How about you?
For many students, college life has served to facilitate the exploration of amorous relationships and often marks the beginning of the journey toward marriage. Our culture teaches us that marriage requires significant investment, discernment, and self-reflection in order to understand personal expectations and moral philosophy. Students seem to understand that making this type of commitment has far-reaching implications for life beyond college. Perhaps friendships of the non-amorous sort need to be considered with the same seriousness. Understanding that significant life-changing relationships of all kinds require sacrifice is important. A colleague recently joked that the only sort of relationship more challenging than those of the romantic kind are the non-romantic. If this is true, and I believe it is, students must be presented with appropriate expectations—that friendships of the best kind require work and sacrifice.
Of course, commitment to marriage these days seems to be waning. Life-long friendship, according to the sociological data, appears to be less prevalent. What if we were more intentional in understanding friendship; marking them with commitment in overt ways, and expecting hard times along the way?
The Waco Chamber of Commerce recently endorsed a book with hopes of stirring a year-long conversation. The book, Same Kind of Different as Me, tells the true to life story of friendship between Ron Hall, a white, wealthy art dealer and Denver Moore, a black, poor, homeless man. One particular conversation in the book stirred my emotion in an unexpected way.
After being introduced to each other, Ron Hall casually suggested he and Moore could be “friends.” Days later, the following conversation took place as detailed on pages 106 and 107.
He [Denver] stared down at the steam rolling up from his coffee cup. “I been thinkin a lot about what you asked me.”
I had no idea what he was talking about. “What did I ask you?”
“’Bout bein your friend.”
My jaw dropped an inch. I’d forgotten that when I told him at the Cactus Flower Café that all I wanted from him was his friendship, he’d said he’d think about it. Now, I was shocked that anyone would spend a week pondering such a question. While the whole conversation had slipped my mind, Denver had clearly spent serious time preparing his answer.
He looked up from his coffee, fixing me with one eye, the other squinted like Clint Eastwood. “There’s something I heard ‘bout white folks that bothers me, and it has to do with fishin.”
He was serious and I didn’t dare laugh, but I did try to lighten the mood a bit. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to help you,” I said, smiling. “I don’t even own a tackle box.”
Denver scowled, not amused. “I think you can.”
He spoke slowly and deliberately, keeping me pinned with that eyeball, ignoring the Starbucks groupies coming and going on the patio around us.
“I heard that when white folks go fishin they do something called ‘catch and release.’”
Catch and release? I nodded solemnly, suddenly nervous and curious at the same time.
“That really bothers me,” Denver went on. “I just can’t figure it out. ‘Cause when colored folks go fishin, we really proud of what we catch, and we take it and show it off to everybody that’ll look. Then we eat what we catch…in other words, we use it to sustain us. So it really bothers me that white folks would go to all that trouble to catch a fish, then when they done caught it, just throw it back in the water.”
He paused again, and the silence between us stretched a full minute. Then: “Did you hear what I said?”
I nodded, afraid to speak, afraid to offend.
Denver looked away, searching the blue autumn sky, then locked onto me again with that drill-bit stare. “So, Mr. Ron, it occurred to me: If you is fishin for a friend you just gon catch and release, then I ain’t got no desire to be your friend.”
The world seemed to halt in midstride and fall silent around us like one of those freeze-frame scenes on TV. I could hear my heart pounding and imagined Denver could see it popping my breast pocket up and down. I returned Denver’s gaze with what I hoped was a receptive expression and hung on.
Suddenly his eyes gentled and he spoke more softly than before: “But if you is look for a real friend, then I’ll be one. Forever.”
Denver has seen something we’ve experienced all too often—friends that come in the good times and go in the bad.
So here’s an idea (and one that I’ll share in greater depth in a forthcoming article in About Campus): Maybe teaching friendship should be a more intentional part of the curriculum in a college or university? Perhaps there wouldn’t be so many lonely people out there—and in here? Perhaps residence halls, especially, provide a particularly effective venue, a learning laboratory if you will, for establishing friendships of a special kind that transcend our days and change our world in most unexpected ways.
Can we teach friendship? Might you join me in thinking about this more?
References
Aristotle. (2004). The Nicomachean Ethics. (J.A.K. Thomson, Trans.). New York: Penguin.
Bonhoeffer, Dietrich (1959). Creation and the fall/temptation: Two Biblical Studies. (J. Fletcher & E. Bethge, Trans.). New York: Macmillian.
Hall, Ron & Moore, Denver (2006). Same Kind of Difference as Me. Nashville: Thomas Nelson.
McPherson, M., Smith-Lovin, L. & Brashears, M. (2006). Social Isolation in America: Changes in Core Discussion Networks Over Two Decades. American Sociological Review, pages 353-375.
Dr. Frank Shushok is Dean for Student Learning & Engagement. An article he wrote on friendship will be published in About Campus later this year.
This is the increasingly “friendless” culture from which our students hail. You can imagine the reasons we should be concerned? A friendless society is lonely, and lonely people suffer an existence apart from one of the important ways God forms us—through others. Dietrich Bonhoeffer says it well: “Being free means being free for the other because the other has bound me to him. Only in relationship with the other am I free.” Our stories, for sure, are meant to be told, heard, and retold once again.
But what is friendship? As of this month, I’m approaching 300 friends on Facebook. I, like so many others, no doubt use the term loosely! Aristotle describes three kinds of friendship. The last and most rare is a mutual commitment to the shared conception of the good human life. He seems to describe those special relationships that encompass common moral commitments, an uncanny willingness to seek the best in, and for, a friend. And, these friendships come with permanence, a commitment for the long-haul, through thick and thin. I’ve been questioning . . . How many relationships like this do I have? How about you?
For many students, college life has served to facilitate the exploration of amorous relationships and often marks the beginning of the journey toward marriage. Our culture teaches us that marriage requires significant investment, discernment, and self-reflection in order to understand personal expectations and moral philosophy. Students seem to understand that making this type of commitment has far-reaching implications for life beyond college. Perhaps friendships of the non-amorous sort need to be considered with the same seriousness. Understanding that significant life-changing relationships of all kinds require sacrifice is important. A colleague recently joked that the only sort of relationship more challenging than those of the romantic kind are the non-romantic. If this is true, and I believe it is, students must be presented with appropriate expectations—that friendships of the best kind require work and sacrifice.
Of course, commitment to marriage these days seems to be waning. Life-long friendship, according to the sociological data, appears to be less prevalent. What if we were more intentional in understanding friendship; marking them with commitment in overt ways, and expecting hard times along the way?
The Waco Chamber of Commerce recently endorsed a book with hopes of stirring a year-long conversation. The book, Same Kind of Different as Me, tells the true to life story of friendship between Ron Hall, a white, wealthy art dealer and Denver Moore, a black, poor, homeless man. One particular conversation in the book stirred my emotion in an unexpected way.
After being introduced to each other, Ron Hall casually suggested he and Moore could be “friends.” Days later, the following conversation took place as detailed on pages 106 and 107.
He [Denver] stared down at the steam rolling up from his coffee cup. “I been thinkin a lot about what you asked me.”
I had no idea what he was talking about. “What did I ask you?”
“’Bout bein your friend.”
My jaw dropped an inch. I’d forgotten that when I told him at the Cactus Flower Café that all I wanted from him was his friendship, he’d said he’d think about it. Now, I was shocked that anyone would spend a week pondering such a question. While the whole conversation had slipped my mind, Denver had clearly spent serious time preparing his answer.
He looked up from his coffee, fixing me with one eye, the other squinted like Clint Eastwood. “There’s something I heard ‘bout white folks that bothers me, and it has to do with fishin.”
He was serious and I didn’t dare laugh, but I did try to lighten the mood a bit. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to help you,” I said, smiling. “I don’t even own a tackle box.”
Denver scowled, not amused. “I think you can.”
He spoke slowly and deliberately, keeping me pinned with that eyeball, ignoring the Starbucks groupies coming and going on the patio around us.
“I heard that when white folks go fishin they do something called ‘catch and release.’”
Catch and release? I nodded solemnly, suddenly nervous and curious at the same time.
“That really bothers me,” Denver went on. “I just can’t figure it out. ‘Cause when colored folks go fishin, we really proud of what we catch, and we take it and show it off to everybody that’ll look. Then we eat what we catch…in other words, we use it to sustain us. So it really bothers me that white folks would go to all that trouble to catch a fish, then when they done caught it, just throw it back in the water.”
He paused again, and the silence between us stretched a full minute. Then: “Did you hear what I said?”
I nodded, afraid to speak, afraid to offend.
Denver looked away, searching the blue autumn sky, then locked onto me again with that drill-bit stare. “So, Mr. Ron, it occurred to me: If you is fishin for a friend you just gon catch and release, then I ain’t got no desire to be your friend.”
The world seemed to halt in midstride and fall silent around us like one of those freeze-frame scenes on TV. I could hear my heart pounding and imagined Denver could see it popping my breast pocket up and down. I returned Denver’s gaze with what I hoped was a receptive expression and hung on.
Suddenly his eyes gentled and he spoke more softly than before: “But if you is look for a real friend, then I’ll be one. Forever.”
Denver has seen something we’ve experienced all too often—friends that come in the good times and go in the bad.
So here’s an idea (and one that I’ll share in greater depth in a forthcoming article in About Campus): Maybe teaching friendship should be a more intentional part of the curriculum in a college or university? Perhaps there wouldn’t be so many lonely people out there—and in here? Perhaps residence halls, especially, provide a particularly effective venue, a learning laboratory if you will, for establishing friendships of a special kind that transcend our days and change our world in most unexpected ways.
Can we teach friendship? Might you join me in thinking about this more?
References
Aristotle. (2004). The Nicomachean Ethics. (J.A.K. Thomson, Trans.). New York: Penguin.
Bonhoeffer, Dietrich (1959). Creation and the fall/temptation: Two Biblical Studies. (J. Fletcher & E. Bethge, Trans.). New York: Macmillian.
Hall, Ron & Moore, Denver (2006). Same Kind of Difference as Me. Nashville: Thomas Nelson.
McPherson, M., Smith-Lovin, L. & Brashears, M. (2006). Social Isolation in America: Changes in Core Discussion Networks Over Two Decades. American Sociological Review, pages 353-375.
Dr. Frank Shushok is Dean for Student Learning & Engagement. An article he wrote on friendship will be published in About Campus later this year.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
“Twick o Tweat!”
This was the newest phrase that our 21 month old son Zachary learned last week—thanks to the residents of Hogwarts School of . . . I mean Brooks College.
The residents of Brooks College truly outdid themselves preparing the residence hall for Trick or Treat night. Starting at Platform 9 and ¾ at the King’s Cross station, through the Sorting Hat, and up to the four houses—Slytherin, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff—it was a magical transformation.
There are definitely some Harry Potter scholars among the residents at Brooks. I’m sure that there are many details that I missed as I was chasing Zachary down the halls. Luckily I’ve got it all on film! The moving staircase signs, Snape’s potions lounge, Crabbe and Goyle’s rooms, the Tri-Wizard Cup proudly displayed, the Gray Lady passing out candy, the advertisements for Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, Professor Sprout’s herbology class, the rack of broomsticks, and perhaps my favorite—Sirius’s head in the fireplace!
While Zachary didn’t really know what was going on when we started, he quickly learned that those three magic words brought him lots of gifts. By the time we got to the second floor, he was performing on demand.
Since we have a hard enough time getting him to eat anything but Os (as those of you who join us in the Great Hall know all too well), he will likely not get to eat very much of the candy. But for him that wasn’t really the point. He felt loved, and he felt at home—as do we.
Thanks for a great night!
Michele Henry is a professor in Baylor's School of Music and faculty-in-residence in Brooks Residential College.
The residents of Brooks College truly outdid themselves preparing the residence hall for Trick or Treat night. Starting at Platform 9 and ¾ at the King’s Cross station, through the Sorting Hat, and up to the four houses—Slytherin, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff—it was a magical transformation.
There are definitely some Harry Potter scholars among the residents at Brooks. I’m sure that there are many details that I missed as I was chasing Zachary down the halls. Luckily I’ve got it all on film! The moving staircase signs, Snape’s potions lounge, Crabbe and Goyle’s rooms, the Tri-Wizard Cup proudly displayed, the Gray Lady passing out candy, the advertisements for Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, Professor Sprout’s herbology class, the rack of broomsticks, and perhaps my favorite—Sirius’s head in the fireplace!
While Zachary didn’t really know what was going on when we started, he quickly learned that those three magic words brought him lots of gifts. By the time we got to the second floor, he was performing on demand.
Since we have a hard enough time getting him to eat anything but Os (as those of you who join us in the Great Hall know all too well), he will likely not get to eat very much of the candy. But for him that wasn’t really the point. He felt loved, and he felt at home—as do we.
Thanks for a great night!
Michele Henry is a professor in Baylor's School of Music and faculty-in-residence in Brooks Residential College.
Friday, September 28, 2007
Returning home
Loud. Obnoxious neighbors. Huge electric bills. And above all, parking!
These were the everyday problems I faced living off campus. After one week in an apartment, I wanted nothing more than to be back in my residence hall.
The convenience of being right on campus takes away the stress I felt fighting for a parking spot each morning. I spend most of my time on campus, why spend all my time driving to it? I can jump out of bed and walk to class within a few minutes. If I did not get enough exercise walking to class, I can step outside and, instantly, I am on the Bear Trail!
There’s a sense of community in the halls. Where else can I leave my room and say hello to twenty of my closest friends? Need help with homework? There’s always someone who can help in the residence hall. I will never forget waiting twenty minutes for fresh cookies with my roommate in Memorial, or brushing my teeth with my suitemate. These are the memories that will stay with me forever!
My favorite thing about living on campus happens in the early evening just as the sun descends, as I walk back from the library. The air is crisp, there are few students out walking, and the lightning bugs flicker in the evening sky. A feeling of peace comes over the campus that contrasts the daily traffic of frantic students running to class.
At that moment, I realize how lucky I am to be at Baylor University.
Katy Chenoweth is a junior at Baylor University studying Classics, as well as a student worker for Campus Living & Learning. After spending a year off-campus, she now lives in Dawson Hall.
When she grows up, Katy wants to be a university professor.
These were the everyday problems I faced living off campus. After one week in an apartment, I wanted nothing more than to be back in my residence hall.
The convenience of being right on campus takes away the stress I felt fighting for a parking spot each morning. I spend most of my time on campus, why spend all my time driving to it? I can jump out of bed and walk to class within a few minutes. If I did not get enough exercise walking to class, I can step outside and, instantly, I am on the Bear Trail!
There’s a sense of community in the halls. Where else can I leave my room and say hello to twenty of my closest friends? Need help with homework? There’s always someone who can help in the residence hall. I will never forget waiting twenty minutes for fresh cookies with my roommate in Memorial, or brushing my teeth with my suitemate. These are the memories that will stay with me forever!
My favorite thing about living on campus happens in the early evening just as the sun descends, as I walk back from the library. The air is crisp, there are few students out walking, and the lightning bugs flicker in the evening sky. A feeling of peace comes over the campus that contrasts the daily traffic of frantic students running to class.
At that moment, I realize how lucky I am to be at Baylor University.
Katy Chenoweth is a junior at Baylor University studying Classics, as well as a student worker for Campus Living & Learning. After spending a year off-campus, she now lives in Dawson Hall.
When she grows up, Katy wants to be a university professor.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
A student's take on the first Brooks dinner
As we waited in line for the Brooks College Sunday Dinner, our anticipation began to build. What would the meal be? What honored guests would attend? As my card was swiped and I entered the Great Hall, I knew this was something special!
The tables had been beautifully set with great care – just for us. We found our seats, and out of respect for our community – and President Lilley, Dub Oliver, and the other guests - remained standing until everyone had found a place at a table. Faculty Master Henry led us in prayer, blessing the food and praying for us to unite, to become a community, a family.
Those seated at the corners of each table stood and brought the meal to the rest of us and, like a family, we served each other. The food was delicious, but the best part of the meal was serving others. It was an incredible opportunity to meet new people, and to put their needs above my own. Rather than a hurried, fit-between-my-classes experience, this was a leisurely, relaxed affair, with great conversation.
Of all my memories of Baylor so far, Brooks’ Sunday Dinner is one of my absolute favorites!
Jennifer Groves is a Baylor sophomore majoring in psychology.
The tables had been beautifully set with great care – just for us. We found our seats, and out of respect for our community – and President Lilley, Dub Oliver, and the other guests - remained standing until everyone had found a place at a table. Faculty Master Henry led us in prayer, blessing the food and praying for us to unite, to become a community, a family.
Those seated at the corners of each table stood and brought the meal to the rest of us and, like a family, we served each other. The food was delicious, but the best part of the meal was serving others. It was an incredible opportunity to meet new people, and to put their needs above my own. Rather than a hurried, fit-between-my-classes experience, this was a leisurely, relaxed affair, with great conversation.
Of all my memories of Baylor so far, Brooks’ Sunday Dinner is one of my absolute favorites!
Jennifer Groves is a Baylor sophomore majoring in psychology.
Monday, August 06, 2007
There’s No Place Like Home.
Maybe it’s because I’m from Kansas. Or maybe it’s because I’ve been dying to see the musical “Wicked.” Whatever the reason, I can’t seem to get the phrase “There’s no place like home” out of my head. Dorothy’s words have taken on a whole new meaning for me as I transition back to Baylor…back to a place I called “home” for four years of my life.
Baylor didn’t always feel like home to me. I certainly had my moments of confusion and loneliness and doubt. I probably even uttered the phrase “I don’t think I’m in Kansas anymore” more than once during my undergraduate career. Even with the learning curve that comes with being an out-of-state student in Texas, I loved college life! I loved going to football games, eating in Penland, studying at Common Grounds, running the bear trail, and fully immersing myself in all things Baylor. But my love for Baylor activities and college life wasn’t enough to make this new place feel like home…the thing that really made Baylor feel like home was the people. I truly experienced authentic and life-altering community at Baylor. The women of North Russell Hall 2D will forever be my best friends. My faculty and staff mentors continue to challenge me and provide guidance and encouragement in my life. I am filled with excitement and anticipation as I prepare to welcome a new group of students and walk alongside them as they experience transformational community and begin to feel “at home” at Baylor.
I’ve had the opportunity to call many places “home” in my lifetime, but none of them seem to fit me like Baylor does, and I could not be more excited to be here! I’ve grown and changed quite a bit since my graduation in 2005 (Baylor has grown a lot as well!) but Baylor continues to hold the person I have become…and the person I want to become. To me, this is home. And there is no place like it.
Sic ‘em bears!
Karen Hall is a Baylor alum who recently graduated with her master's degree from Azusa Pacific University. She now serves as the director of Kokernot Hall.
Baylor didn’t always feel like home to me. I certainly had my moments of confusion and loneliness and doubt. I probably even uttered the phrase “I don’t think I’m in Kansas anymore” more than once during my undergraduate career. Even with the learning curve that comes with being an out-of-state student in Texas, I loved college life! I loved going to football games, eating in Penland, studying at Common Grounds, running the bear trail, and fully immersing myself in all things Baylor. But my love for Baylor activities and college life wasn’t enough to make this new place feel like home…the thing that really made Baylor feel like home was the people. I truly experienced authentic and life-altering community at Baylor. The women of North Russell Hall 2D will forever be my best friends. My faculty and staff mentors continue to challenge me and provide guidance and encouragement in my life. I am filled with excitement and anticipation as I prepare to welcome a new group of students and walk alongside them as they experience transformational community and begin to feel “at home” at Baylor.
I’ve had the opportunity to call many places “home” in my lifetime, but none of them seem to fit me like Baylor does, and I could not be more excited to be here! I’ve grown and changed quite a bit since my graduation in 2005 (Baylor has grown a lot as well!) but Baylor continues to hold the person I have become…and the person I want to become. To me, this is home. And there is no place like it.
Sic ‘em bears!
Karen Hall is a Baylor alum who recently graduated with her master's degree from Azusa Pacific University. She now serves as the director of Kokernot Hall.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
A resurrected blog
When I first came to CL&L, I started a blog on academic initiatives. It didn't take. I'm not sure if it's because the writing stunk or because I did not update it very often. But either way, it fizzled.
But it's a new day!
When complaining to my wife, Amanda, about my blog, she offered me great wisdom, as is typical: "Rish, why not encourage others to actually write the content, sort of like guest speakers, instead of people only hearing from you. Instead of the author of the blog, you could be the editor."
Genius.
So now, my hope is that you will hear from various people in various places about life in Campus Living & Learning. I am thinking about one blog per month, and I hope you enjoy the content. If you have an idea of a post that you want to write, let me know!
Thanks,
Rishi
But it's a new day!
When complaining to my wife, Amanda, about my blog, she offered me great wisdom, as is typical: "Rish, why not encourage others to actually write the content, sort of like guest speakers, instead of people only hearing from you. Instead of the author of the blog, you could be the editor."
Genius.
So now, my hope is that you will hear from various people in various places about life in Campus Living & Learning. I am thinking about one blog per month, and I hope you enjoy the content. If you have an idea of a post that you want to write, let me know!
Thanks,
Rishi
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