When I was awarded a spot in Seventeen Magazine’s Freshman 15 (a group 15 girls chosen from around the country to document their college experiences), I was ecstatic — but unsure how my participation would be received on campus. After all, I thought, Grinnell College students read The New York Times, The Atlantic, and Mother Earth News, not Seventeen. For Seventeen, I produce weekly written and video blogs, answer reader questions, and occasionally get featured in the magazine.
Ben Offenberg, a 6’5’’ senior biochemistry major and current president of the Student Government Association (SGA), shares a typical day.
8 a.m. After six hours of sound sleep, skip breakfast (not a recommended practice). Begin day in the SGA office in Joe Rosenfield Center. Sitting on a gigantic soccer ball chair, spend a couple hours replying to e-mails and completing office work.
Fashion at Grinnell is an extension of the freedom, social awareness, and acceptance reflected in college life here. After being at Grinnell for nearly a year, I appreciate not only the way Grinnell students express themselves through fashion, but also the way other students appreciate the message.
Issue: Spring 2007
Author: Elizabeth Bologna ’08
“There’s nothing to do!” It’s the mantra of young adults everywhere, the perennial complaint of high schoolers and college kids alike. It was something I was worried about when I was thinking of coming to Grinnell. It’s a small college in a small town … what if I was bored every weekend? What if the only thing there was to do was drink? I didn’t like the idea of that.
I consider myself a pretty conservative dresser. My shorts are always mid-thigh or longer, my T-shirts cover my naughty parts in their entirety, and my swimsuit comes in only one piece. All in all, I tend to keep myself pretty well covered.
Unless it’s a Wednesday night in Burling. Because every Wednesday night after dinner, I participate in a magical event known as No Pants Wednesday.
Being from a foreign country and knowing little about Iowa or the Midwest, I thought of Grinnell as a little campus in the middle of the tall prairie grass. Indeed, I chose to come here not only because I wanted the isolation and oneness with nature that Grinnell seemed to offer, but also because I desired a retreat where I could nurse my tired body while nourishing my hungry mind. I had a fantasy image of Grinnell as the perfect retreat center, where all was quiet and serene.
It’s late on a Monday night. I rush down the dark stairs to the basement of Main Hall and pull open the door to Bob’s Underground Café. The wail of a trombone echoes from down the entryway, the piano and bass comp cool through the changes to “So What,” and each slap of the high hat matches my footfall.