My first experience face to face with Prescott College was meeting the incoming student who graciously stopped on his way from New Mexico to Prescott to pick me up. He waited in the Flagstaff Amtrak station parking lot for six hours before I arrived. The next morning, the very student who first called me during her admissions work-study came to my apartment and brought me to the grocery store, gave me a quick tour of campus, and generally helped me feel welcome. I really needed it; it’s really no easy task to move thousands of miles from home.
It’s effortless to make friends at Prescott. I arrived Saturday night, and even before arriving home I had a new friend. The next morning, another friend. The Monday after, two more friends, and so on and on. People here are from each corner of North America, and the college is so small and so specifically focused that everyone has two things in common, guaranteed: We’re all from out of town, and we all have been thinking about the deep, important problems facing our planet and society for years before we found our niche at Prescott. It’s not difficult to start a conversation here.
As academic and wilderness orientations coursed on, and as the semester began to accelerate, I was immersed in a coherent community. The administration has been consistently responsive and helpful, and the faculty and instructors I’ve studied with have been available, knowledgeable, passionate, and flexible. The relevance and currency of my History of Gender and Sexuality course with Kaitlin Noss was stunning. My perspectives have changed, and I feel a depth of understanding that I was unable even to imagine before.
Now, as I prepare to fly home between semesters, I know with a moral certainty that I have made the best educational decision I could have. The geographic diversity of my new friendships have given me a sense of belonging even in parts of the United States I’ve never been; I feel more connected to the vastness of America than ever before. I’ll be going home to my family and old friends with a stronger identity, and lots of exciting new things to discuss.
The end of the semester is bittersweet for me, as I imagine it is for many of us students. Over the last couple of months, Prescott has become my home, and I’m comfortable here now. But, it will be truly excellent to have a break and to see my family again. Three friends and I will be taking a 2700-mile road trip back to Prescott in January, and this has to be the raspberry garnish on my Bûche de Noël.
-Estin Vogel, 12.15.11
Showing posts with label Estin Vogel Orientation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Estin Vogel Orientation. Show all posts
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Hummingbirds
I was searching for schools that were off the beaten path, schools with unique curricula and unique students, and I found Prescott. I had only briefly considered the school before I received a phone call out of the blue from a student working in admissions. Suddenly half an hour had passed and I was planning my entrance essay.
I began to ask around about Prescott College, and what I heard only strengthened my suspicions that it was the place for me. A friend of mine, a friend I seem to meet only fleetingly and in a different state each time, a friend who drives an old BMW without power steering around the country, told me that Prescott, AZ was a place he would never forget. He said it was, out of all the places he had been, one of the most special.
He wasn’t the only one to say favorable things about the glowing communities here in town. A touring poet I know from Boston travelled all around Arizona, and Prescott was his favorite part of the state, by far.
Through my own exploits in the New England poetry scene, I had come to know myself as a writer. I needed to be in an academic environment that did not simply assign chapters and give standard prompts, but would immerse me in a community of artistic growth and excitement. I spoke with students, read articles, studied degree plans, and all these together conspired to convince me that not only was Prescott a unique and wondrous place, it was a place that offered me the opportunity to study exactly what I needed to.
The more I researched, the more Prescott beckoned to me. My admissions counselor, Andrea Mersmann, was calling me as well, though by decidedly more conventional means. She became the voice of Prescott College, and through countless emails and telephone conversations, what was once a suspicion became a safe bet. Prescott College was my school of choice.
I am now in Prescott, sitting in my apartment, typing this up. Outside my window I can clearly see Thumb Butte, the glorious hikeable rock formation looming over town. There is thunder in the distance and my lovely hummingbirds are still gathering nectar despite the imminent downpour.
In only three days I have met more people than I can count on my two hands, all of them helpful, friendly, and interesting. It is such a dream come true to find myself here. So many months of planning are finally my reality.
I have about a week before orientation begins and only have to stop at the bookstore before I have all the necessary supplies. I can only imagine what is in store for all of us new Prescott students on our upcoming adventures. I can hardly wait.
-Estin Vogel, 08.24.11
I began to ask around about Prescott College, and what I heard only strengthened my suspicions that it was the place for me. A friend of mine, a friend I seem to meet only fleetingly and in a different state each time, a friend who drives an old BMW without power steering around the country, told me that Prescott, AZ was a place he would never forget. He said it was, out of all the places he had been, one of the most special.
He wasn’t the only one to say favorable things about the glowing communities here in town. A touring poet I know from Boston travelled all around Arizona, and Prescott was his favorite part of the state, by far.
Through my own exploits in the New England poetry scene, I had come to know myself as a writer. I needed to be in an academic environment that did not simply assign chapters and give standard prompts, but would immerse me in a community of artistic growth and excitement. I spoke with students, read articles, studied degree plans, and all these together conspired to convince me that not only was Prescott a unique and wondrous place, it was a place that offered me the opportunity to study exactly what I needed to.
The more I researched, the more Prescott beckoned to me. My admissions counselor, Andrea Mersmann, was calling me as well, though by decidedly more conventional means. She became the voice of Prescott College, and through countless emails and telephone conversations, what was once a suspicion became a safe bet. Prescott College was my school of choice.
I am now in Prescott, sitting in my apartment, typing this up. Outside my window I can clearly see Thumb Butte, the glorious hikeable rock formation looming over town. There is thunder in the distance and my lovely hummingbirds are still gathering nectar despite the imminent downpour.
In only three days I have met more people than I can count on my two hands, all of them helpful, friendly, and interesting. It is such a dream come true to find myself here. So many months of planning are finally my reality.
I have about a week before orientation begins and only have to stop at the bookstore before I have all the necessary supplies. I can only imagine what is in store for all of us new Prescott students on our upcoming adventures. I can hardly wait.
-Estin Vogel, 08.24.11
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