It's a Collage

On the Hotlum-Bolam Ridge atop Mt. Shasta, staring into the gaping bergschrund whose cavernous mouth had gobbled up the morning light and transformed it into a deep Caribbean blue.

In the Sawtooth Mountains, outside of Ketchum, ID, in a yurt, beside a wood-burning stove, filing through my notes on snow science and avalanche rescue, preparing for our ski tour that begins at dawn.

Walking out of class, having just spent two days dissecting Virginia Woolf's Mrs. Dalloway, upset that class is over because we still haven’t said enough about the piece.

Lost with my peers in a mangrove forest in an estuary near Kino Bay, Mexico.  Four hours of scraping through barnacles, climbing atop the mangroves, looking for a way out, laughing throughout the ordeal.

A house packed wall to wall with friends.  A dinner table with sauteed spinach and kale, a leg of lamb, southwestern chili, homemade bread, grilled vegetables, and fried zucchini.  A jam session comprised of a banjo, two guitars, a mandolin, two fiddles, an acoustic base, a washboard base, and a flute.

Too many late nights spent sitting beside the typewriter, coffee and gardettos on the desk, fingers punching hacking away at the keyboard or typewriter, putting my words down on paper, trying to find my story.

Boot-packing up a 1,000 ft. couloir, splitboard strapped to my backpack, anticipating the first run of the season.  Then, after rolling down most of the decent, smiling and loving every minute of it anyway.

Glitter, spandex, face paint, and costumes at a dance party themed after Andy Warhol’s Factory.  The rooms are covered in foil or Campbell’s Soup Posters or glow lights.  There are too many neon colored wigs to count.

Its a collage; a smattering; a strange mish-mash of moments alone, moments in class, and moments with the friends that have become my family.  It’s about doing things I’ve never done before; doing things I will always love doing; about being challenged mentally and physically and emotionally.  And more than anything, it’s about finding the people around you that are going through the same thing; who will become sewn into your bones because of all the struggle, laughter, and unexpected adventures.

~Daniel Roca, 04/2012

Between the Lines

When I think about some of my favorite moments at Prescott College so far, it’s easy to think of the loud ones: a particularly awesome party, that time Morgoth tried to get all of the incoming students to sing the “baby shark song,” the games I’ve played in classes, the things I’ve heard from other PC students about the cool things they’ve done in class, all of these things are quick to bubble to the surface of my mind.  After those bubbles have popped, though, I’m left with the quiet—though by no means less powerful—moments I’ve had here.

On a climb at Thumb Butte with some friends last fall, after we’d all gotten to the top we sat up there for a little while.  Looking north toward Granite Mountain, I could see the dry hills around Prescott stippled with cacti, the rolling valley in which the town sits, and the huge basin beyond, with its far off canyon walls.  You can only say “oh my god, this is beautiful” so many times before you realize that it will never be enough, eventually giving up and letting the breeze do the talking.

My winter block class was a sense of place reading and writing workshop, so the poems and fiction/nonfiction works we created were influenced heavily by the settings in which they took place.  We drove out to Groom Creek one day to spend some time writing in the field, drawing straight from our surroundings.  We scrambled over boulders, splashing along the edge of the stream still covered with ice in some places, and eventually settled into our own little spaces to write.  I found myself leaning against a huge rock, leaning my head back, listening to the stream and the wind in the leaves overhead.  I thought about my childhood in the woods of Minnesota, playing in streams and pine forests very similar to this one.  The poem I wrote was good enough, but my biggest benefit from that place was the silence I was able to experience.

Yesterday, I decided I would do some homework out in my backyard.  I unrolled my yoga mat over the sandy dirt and took a minute to sit in silence before starting my assigned reading.  I listened to the mourning dove who always sings outside my kitchen window, to the lizards scrambling through the dry grass (like me, they wanted to stretch out in the sun), to the cars driving up and down the busy street two blocks over. 

It’s easy to get caught up in the whirlwind of college, where semesters are packed with that dance, that show, that movie, that speaker, that class, that project, that paper, and that job.  And don’t get me wrong, I’ve had some wonderful, noisy, joyful, busy times, and I wouldn’t trade them for anything.  But because I’ve had those quiet moments to reflect, to think about how lucky I am to have those moments bursting with energy, I’m able to truly appreciate it all—quiet and loud, hectic and calm, with friends and with myself.

View from the top of Thumb Butte, looking toward Granite Mountain in the distance

Coffee

I love having coffee with instructors. Whatever adversarial relationship I have with the Educational Institution is forgotten in the café, and I can actually connect with people who in the classroom inspire me. We talk about class, missed assignments­—we interpret readings, yes, but we also talk about life. I ask for advice. How did my instructors get through school? Where does their ambivalence lie? When an instructor is honest and forthright, and when that instructor has provided me with illuminating things to study, the advice they give is believable and useful. When that advice is being given over a Mexican latte at the Wild Iris, it becomes profound.          

I recently bought a book. It’s a really small book with lined pages, a placeholder, and an elastic strap to keep it closed. It fits in my pocket. I write lists in it, because lists on paper are much less scary. In my mind, my daily tasks are amorphous and daunting, but on paper… it’s only five items. I can do that. This is a simple and boring thing, maybe, but I’m doing it because that’s what works for my instructor, and if it works for her, maybe it will work for me.  It’s funny how sometimes, even after a conversation on the fate of global society and various human rights crises, a little book is the most important subject.

It’s my understanding that many of us, especially of the present college-entering generation, have taught ourselves not to emulate anything, foolishly believing that we have this capacity. But who could blame us? Most of our role-models have come streaming through copper wires, belting lyrics about a woman’s role and how much fun drugs are. Emulation is dangerous, and I think most of us have picked up on this. But, since humans do emulate, and since we rarely have a choice over who we are emulating, my advice to anyone thinking about college is to put yourself where the best emulation will happen. Surround yourself with brilliant, fiery, and compassionate people, and ask them to share a coffee.

~Estin Vogel, 04.2012

Fun-Dimensions at Prescott College

When I was asked to blog for the Admissions Office I was set on trying to think of a story that captures a typical “Prescott College moment”. This begs the question “what is a Prescott College moment?” For me a Prescott College moment consists of anything that evokes the response of “Oh, of course, Prescott College” or something similar to that. The reason I mention this now is because I have a feeling that this will be a running theme in my blogs.

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• Something about Morgoth: Morgoth is trying to learn to use his other senses to listen to peoples energies. Thought is a type of energy (or at least so claims Morgoth), and it makes sense to some that one might be able to sense certain vibrations of energy such as thought through alternative means.
  

• The Scenario: At a friend’s house after classes kicking it formulating plans for dinner. Morgoth notices his friend Jon on the couch and something isn’t quite ‘right’.

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After quietly observing for about 20 minutes or so I noticed something was different about him that day and that he was most definitely chewing on something. It is not uncommon to see him lost in thought or contemplating something big, but something was different. I couldn’t tell if something had happened during the day and he wasn’t feeling too good about it, or if he just learned of some troubling news. Whatever he was thinking… I could feel it on the other side of the living room.

Eventually I spoke up and asked him what he was thinking about. To my surprise it wasn’t what he was thinking but HOW he was thinking. That whole time I was trying to pick up on ‘what’ he was thinking and I was totally confused (no surprise there). He goes on to tell me that his Natural History & Ecology of the Southwest course was blowing his mind. Out in the field observing various trees and small plants my friend was encouraged to listen and experience what he observed through different means.

The reason he was so deep in thought in the evening was because he spent the day thinking in ways he had never thought before. It is no wonder that I was thrown off by it! I had a good laugh when he told me it was a matter of how not what he was thinking and that it was all because of the field day he had.

I thought to myself “duh, Prescott College” and there I had my Prescott College moment! This wasn’t the first time I have talked to a friend and have noticed a shift in their consciousness because of faculty empowering the learning experience itself rather than just convey thoughts linearly. I was simply taken back by being able to FEEL the difference in how my friend was thinking. It demonstrated the amazing change and development that can happen in a single day of classes here at Prescott College.

Here we are encouraged how to learn, and not just what to learn. Here we are empowered to be competent in the moment and not just test time. This is Prescott College, and I think I have a big fat squishy crush on the school.

So I asked my friend if there was anything else “fun to mention” in this blog, of which they responded with a confused look and asked “Fun-Dimensions?”- Hence the blog title!  Because Prescott is a “Fun Dimension” to be at! 

-Morgoth, 03/2012

Diversity of Off-Campus Housing

First time Freshman are going to have a much different experience then I did when I first attended in Fall of 2007. Prescott College is making changes on how first time freshmen will experience the school and I believe that many of these changes are for the best. Not only will students build great friendships during their orientation, but students will have a wonderful opportunity to to build and or expand their community through student housing.

For transfer students, their experience might be a little different because most transfer students will be living off campus. There will be opportunities for transfer students to live on campus but most will be living around town.
I have lived off campus my entire time here at Prescott College and finding housing has, some years, been very effortless, and others, very tedious. I have lived in a variety of locations around town and have found really wonderful communities in Prescott that I am proud to be apart of. As the Fall semester approaches I would start my search with the anticipation of finding the best house with the most affordable rent. For me I am always interested in finding a house close to campus, that has a yard, and is affordable. In the past I have found my ideal house, other years not so much, but my main goal when moving into a house is turning it into my sanctuary. I spend a lot of my time at home so it is important that not only my house is my sanctuary but my roommates contribute and respect that space. I think there are some wonderful individuals in the community at Prescott College and it is very easy to find individual who share similar requirements for living.

I think there can be a lot of uneasy and unknown moments concerning where you are going to live and also who you might live with as a transfer student. I believe there are many outlets that are provided that can help ease your mind when looking for housing. There are plenty of options in town ranging from single room apartment to 2 and 3 bedroom houses. Prescott isn’t that large of a city so getting around town isn’t that difficult if you don’t own a vehicle. Biking is definitely one of the preferred methods of transportation, at lest by Prescott College students, around town. I have lived in houses during my time here at Prescott College, and many of them have never been more then 5 blocks from school.

To find my ideal house I usually search for house for about a month. This is also a bit easier because I have lived with good friends of mine who are usually roommates I have lived with before. About a month before the fall semester starts I would start looking on craigslist. There seems to be a lot of houses that are affordable and near the Prescott College campus. Personally I have found that checking frequently is an effective method because of how regularly the postings change. In the past I have found renters who are very supportive and willing to give 9 mother leases for students, but I will say this hasn’t been my experience all of the time. There is also a facebook page for every incoming class. This is a great place to find other students who are interested in finding a roommate that are also students at Prescott College. One of the popular methods for students is looking at the Off-Campus Housing section of the school’s web site. This is a great resource because it provides rental agencies to go through and as well as other rental providers. If you are having difficulties, contacting your admissions counselor, can be a great way of finding more information as well.

~Eric Davis, 03/2012

“Please don’t gut your fish in the dorm kitchens”

I’ve never really known what I should do with my life. All throughout my k-12 education, I had someone there—teachers, my mom, other students—to look to when I was unsure of what I should be doing, who could tell me what I was expected to do. When the time came to apply to colleges, suddenly no one was there, telling me what I was supposed to do. I applied willy-nilly to a smattering of schools across the western half of the united states without visiting any of them or looking into cost/how much I could afford, and sat back to rake in the admissions letters. My dreamy suburban existence was shattered when, upon receiving acceptance letters, I realized that school costs money—money that I didn’t have. I panicked and, fearing the life of debt and ramen noodles that surely awaited me, I applied last minute to a state school in Wisconsin. I’m from Minnesota, so I was able to get in-state tuition thanks to a reciprocity agreement between the two states’ public university systems, which saved me a bunch of money.

It quickly became clear to me that I had enrolled at the wrong school for me. During my campus visit we were shown the campus armory, where we were advised to “keep all guns, bows, arrows, and ammunition in a locker, rather than in your dorm.” While registering for classes I saw that intro to deer hunting was available as a gym credit, and while making pasta in the dorm kitchen my attention was drawn to a sign: “please don’t gut your fish in the sink here. Use the campus fish house.” Once, while walking across campus, I noticed a massive amount of feathers blowing through a parking lot. My initial guess that a bird had gotten caught in a lawn mower proved to be incorrect as I rounded a corner and discovered a student field dressing a Canadian goose he had shot earlier that day. People rode their horses to the bar.

The facilities available on campus were a strong reflection of the student body. 95% of the students were from Wisconsin, and the remaining 5% were from Minnesota, Illinois, Indiana, or the Dakotas. I had expected college to be a place where I could meet people from all over the country, from all different walks of life. Instead, I was in an environment where large groups of students graduated high school together, and then all went to the same college. The resulting feeling was one of high school 2.0, especially because my freshman-level classes actually felt easier than the AP courses I’d taken in high school. So, instead of taking 5 classes a semester I took 6, and I joined Amnesty International, WisPIRG (Wisconsin Student Public Interest Research Group—actually much more fun than it sounds), Students for Free Thought, and became captain of the women’s Lacrosse team. As if that wasn’t enough, I decided that I could double major (Philosophy and International Studies) and double minor (Religious Studies and English) and still graduate on time because hey, I wasn’t struggling, so why not take on a little more work?

I knew during my first semester that I wanted to transfer but, since it was my first time at college and my research into other schools had been so minimal, I assumed that I’d grow to love the school…eventually. I found an amazing group of friends, and they really helped me to enjoy my time there. When after three semesters I had finally had enough, those friends were incredibly supportive. At the ugly sweater going away party they threw for me, my friend Ty hugged me and said “I think we all secretly knew that this wasn’t the right place for you. You’re destined for something different.”

I know I want to transfer. Now what?

The following semester was spent living at home, working two jobs, lonely and desperate for human contact and intellectual stimulation. I toured six schools on the east coast, got in, and hit the same wall I’d hit the first time around: money sucks, and not everyone wants to give it to you. I was frustrated and freaking out—what would I do next fall, if I wasn’t in school? Would I find a school that fit me and that I could afford? I was talking with my boss at one of my jobs during a performance review sometime in April, telling him how nervous I was about my current lack of direction. He told me to check out Prescott College—he’d gone there without knowing what he wanted to study, and came away with a passion for education. So, on his insistent advice, I found myself exploring the school website on an idle spring afternoon, and applying the next day.

I wasn’t able to visit before enrolling, which was nerve-wracking given my track record the first time around, but something felt different about Prescott. In my first days on campus, I knew I had made the right decision. Sometimes I wish I’d found PC the first time around, but at the same time I know that my experiences in Wisconsin had a huge impact on my reasons for transferring here. I realize more each day just how lucky I am to go to a school with a different way of looking at higher education, whose mission isn’t simply to give out degrees and pump workers into the real world. I don’t feel the need to fill my spare time with a plethora of clubs and classes, because I’m able to control how challenging my courses are. And, most importantly, I’m able to afford this school, with the help of my mom and a merit scholarship (and a little debt). But to me, having a few loans is totally worth the education I’m getting here. I feel valuable here, and I feel important, and I feel incredibly fortunate to have found this school.

~Claire Tuchel, 02.2012

The Beginning of the End

This is the start of my last semester here at Prescott College and there is a sense of accomplishment and fear.  I am beginning my senior project which is a culminating project and a way for me to display my competence.  My competence here at Prescott College is Social Justice Education and I am also receiving a double breath in Outdoor Pursuits and Human Development.  I believe the Senior Project process to be an excellent way of displaying ones knowledge and confidence in their learning.  The ideas that I had for my Senior Project have transformed over time and when it came down to putting it all on paper I had tremendous help from my advisor and faculty members.  

As I started to dive into ideas about what I could do for my Senior Project I realized that the possibilities were endless.  At that point I had to start sifting through my ideas and really think about what is important and why I want to do it.  My background is in education so I thought that would be a good starting point.  I also wanted to contribute to something that had profoundly changed me and given me so much.  The process of working with my advisers was a learning process, but I really dove in leaving no stone unturned.  With the help of my advisor and lots of pondering I finally came up with a wonderful idea that would not only be in my area of study but would also give back to my community.

Through my senior project I hope to discover how faculty and instructors design their classes to best meet the mission statement and the graduation attributes, voted on by the cross college faculty.  My senior project will consist of creating diagnostic tools such as rubrics and interview questions to assess how faculty members are meeting the desired graduation attributes in courses and through graduation.  If we are asking our students and peers to critically analyze our ever-changing environment, then I think it is important to have our faculty and instructors do the same.  These diagnostic tools will be used to benchmark where we are currently, understand how we can improve and set future goals for evaluating student success.

Social Justice is important to me and Prescott College.  I hope that through my Senior Project I will help promote more Social Justice in other departments.  I believe that continuity through out all of our departments is very important and will help students gain more perspective into what others are doing and what the school promoting.  With the recent adoption of these graduation attributes I think the school is bringing more diversity of learning and creating obtainable learning targets for students to meet in the classroom and  as a graduate.  

~Eric Davis, 02.2012

Upon the Horizon

Something I’ve learned since I’ve come to Prescott College: Life doesn’t always wait for you to be ready when it decides to send you somewhere new. Its a strange moment--the one you feel coming upon you when there is a big decision on the horizon. And its something that has continued to creep up through my veins ever since I entered Prescott College.

Orientation-Winter 2010

The cold. It crept through the moist wet sand across the banks of the Colorado. It left an icy crust upon the lips of my sleeping bag--my breath condensed and frozen from the night. A faint drizzle tapped against the nylon sheeting of the shelter with rhythmic drumming, dripping beads of water in a tight sphere around it. My eyes were crusty. My hair frazzled. My body lined with weathered thermal underwear and umber dust. I pulled back the flap of the tent to see the bleak sky that cut through the walls of The Mighty Grand Canyon--grey stratus clouds sewing their way through the chiseled valleys and crumbling towers--a mosaic of orange and red and maroon and green on an off-white canvas of foam. There was the feeling once more, brought on by a silence that placated the difficulty and the grandeur of the scene before me. I felt like Amundsen or Clark or some other long-forgotten explorer discovering the way into some different and distant inner world.

And that is, of course, what I came to do--become an adventurer, a wilderness leader, a mountaineer with dreams of the Karakorum and the Himalaya. It was a desire sewn into the arteries around my heart, tangled around my love of natural experiences, self-discovery, and the sheer mathematical beauty of a mountain’s absolute size. I wasn’t wrong to be daunted that morning beside the Colorado. In the cavities between the canyon’s towers stood Coronado Butte--a stratified precipice painted red like the rest--a high point adjacent to our exit trail on Horseshoe Mesa. A thick sheet of dense, pure white snow gently fell in small and delicate layers throughout the course of the day, staring down at us as the clouds and the snowline dropped lower and lower and lower until reaching the bottom of the canyon floor. The next morning there would be six feet of it. And two days later, when we ascended the Mesa to hike out for re-supply, we would have to dig and tunnel and fight our way out of the icy limbo for eight and a half hours.

But I knew this already. I knew the difficulty was always going to come. I knew it the moment I opened up the Prescott College catalog and decided to come to this school. I knew it when I meant my fellow students and the faculty during the first few days of Orientation. I knew it when I peeked my crusty eyes out of the tent flap that morning. This was a place that would challenge my inner most beliefs in myself. It was a place that would form me and change me and mold me into whomever I chose to be. It would ask me to prove myself and find myself time and time again. And it always reminded me that I was at Prescott College not just to get an education, but to gain an understanding about what I want my future to become, and what role I want to play in it.

~Daniel Roca, 02.17.2012

The Smell of the Sea. The Sound of a Sea Gull.

       After having a life changing, eye opening, transformative experience, it is incredibly hard to convey it to others. How do you express the feelings, the sounds, the colors in the sky in such a way that makes them understand how amazing it was? That is the trouble that I have when I try to talk about my recent January block experience. Sea Kayaking and Marine Natural History, which takes place in Mexico. It was an absolutely wonderful course that taught me how to observe my surroundings with a sense of new found clarity. I learned to appreciate the sounds of the brown-footed boobies, the smell of the sea, the touch of a sea urchin, the feeling of the west northwest wind on my face. There was a feeling of being present that I had never encountered before.This was my first Adventure Education course at Prescott College, my first outdoor-based class ever, besides orientation, my first science class since high school and my first time sea kayaking. I had the time of my life. Since my arrival at Prescott College three years ago, I have been told more times then I can count that before I graduated this was the one course I had to take. So, after I filled out my degree plan and realized that I had room to take it I jumped on the opportunity.


Pictures are worth a thousand words.

The first week of class we spent in Prescott preparing for the trip. The week was full of food planning, personal gear check outs, inspections of the group gear, discussing natural history and going over the logistics of the trip. At five in the morning the first Saturday of block we pulled out of the parking lot in our Prescott College vans, the trailers stacked with sea kayaks to begin our journey to Mexico. We spent around 10 hours in the van, sleeping, talking and sleeping. We arrived at the Kino Bay Station in the evening, with just enough time to run down to the beach and watch the sunset.

We spent the next day in town gathering the last of our food and filling up our 40 water droms. The next day we drove two hours south to our launch spot near St. Augustine. We camped there for two nights, and on the third morning, we left on our expedition.The next 2 weeks was a 50 nautical-mile adventure. On travel days, we woke up at 4:30 in the morning, and if the weather conditions were good, ate breakfast, packed our boats, and launched right as the sun was coming over the water. The magic of sunrises is so invigorating. We would paddle for 2 to 3 ½ hours on average to our next camp spot. The first morning of paddling a pod of dolphins swam right past us, hundreds of them in the water, jumping and splashing around. I knew at that moment that the trip was going to be unforgettable. The rest of our travel days, as well as our layover days, consisted of snorkeling, practicing kayaking skills, hiking, shell collecting, writing our natural history field journals, tide pool walking, observing, reflecting, reading about invertebrates, bony fishes and mammals, food making, sunset watching and fun having. We also had classes everyday about different topics such as the weather, tides, winds, and moon cycles.The last morning of the expedition, as I was packing my boat for the last time, and putting on my wet wetsuit for the last time, a wave of sadness washed over me. I realized that this was the end to one of the best things that had ever happened to me. One of the best experiences that I have ever had the opportunity of having was coming to an end.

Even while writing this, I am having such a difficult time articulating what I want to say. As I said in the beginning, how do you articulate so many laughs, emotions, and memories into a blog, or even into words? I am afraid that I did not do this course any of the justice it deserves. Nothing else I could write would paint a clear enough picture, so I will leave you all with this, it is my highest recommendation that all students, no matter what their major area of study, take Sea Kayaking and Marine Natural History before graduating Prescott College. I promise that you will not be disappointed, and will be able to see with your own eyes what I could not convey in words.

Cheers! Amanda Hampton, 02.2012

                                       

                                    

I Am a Dancer

When registering for classes during my first semester at Prescott College, I was overwhelmed by all the interesting classes available. I was particularly curious about the Beginning Dance and Improvisation course. I found myself torn because I loved to dance but was doubtful of the nature of an improvisation class and skeptical to enroll because dance has nothing to do with my major. Thankfully, I took my academic advisor’s advice and enrolled in the class anyways. I could not have made a better decision.

Performing "The Grid" exercise.  We could only move in right angles.

I cannot describe how much I learned throughout the course of dance class. Right from the beginning, my classmates and I were challenged to maintain a deep connection with our bodies. Every class brought on a new challenge whether it was learning to move around the room blindfolded, turning poetry into motion, or mirroring others in their dancing. It was incredible to see our individual movements come to life without being taught any techniques or choreography. We were discovering how to move for ourselves while dancing to our own unique rhythms. Every day I emerged from class feeling great both mentally and physically.

Dancing to live drumming at community lunch.  Everyone could join in!

One of the best feelings that resulted from taking Dance and Improvisation was realizing that I was utilizing principles from class in every day life. I found myself turning to dance as something therapeutic whenever I was stressed. I had less pains and aches because I was more in tune with my body and what I needed to do to better care for it. I had more confidence whenever the urge to dance would come over me and was no longer afraid to be the first person on the dance floor.

Doing a spiral dance in the town square during Halloween

Because dance class allowed for so much in depth discussion and sharing, my classmates and I developed a strong bond. It was very reassuring to be surrounded by people who fully supported one another. I never felt self-conscious dancing in front of my classmates and I was always encouraged to be authentic in my words and movements. As sad as it was to see the class come to an end, I am thankful that we all still keep in touch and continue to have epic dance sessions whenever the moment strikes.

An edit of us in a "Flocking" exercise

There are many things I hope will define me during my time here at Prescott College. For now, I can revel in the fact that amongst everything else, I am a dancer. I will always reflect back at my time in dance class and remember how it allowed me to feed my hunger for creativity, community, self-awareness, and expression. It is that same hunger which allows us to continually grow and evolve into the people we are meant to be. That is the gift that Prescott College gives and I am excited for all of you to take advantage of it.

The whole class after our final performance

~Renee Daniel, 02/2012