Heyo! It’s staff baby Tyler “Mayonnaise on the Side” Raso ’19 here, bringing you a Kenyon College Mad Lib!
What is a Mad Lib?
A) “A phrasal template word game where one player prompts others for a list of words to substitute for blanks in a story” (Wikipedia) (((that’s an MLA citation)))
B) My Sad Childhood
C) Not the sequel to Mad Max which catalogs the dystopic adventures of Max’s long-estranged twin sister, Lib
D) All of the above Continue reading
My Fifth Grade graduation was a grand event. I remember that I specially matched my braces to my blue chiffon dress for the occasion. An alum returned from the High School, to make us feel small and bestow upon us values that I can’t really remember. In fact, throughout the excessive 2 and half hour ceremony, I don’t think I remember anything that was said. All that I remember is the weird sweaty smell of the gymnasium, and convincing myself that I needed to feel sentimental as I embarked upon my new middle school adventure. A full decade later, I still don’t know how to feel about graduation. I’ve lived about as far ahead as my young mind at that time could comprehend, but part of me wonders what my eleven year old self understood about the future that I may have since forgotten. Here are some young minds of Kenyon College before they graduated elementary school, wondering about the future and writing about the present and past, teaching us all through their carefree innocence:
Gray Clark ’17, History and Russian Area Studies: First Grade
Oh Kenyon housing, how you have changed over the course of my short tenure here. Back when my perky, 18 year old body first set foot on this campus, my highest residential aspirations were to while away sunday mornings in a Farr Hall stateroom, gazing down at disheveled passersby and softly chuckling to myself. This dream stands, I suppose, but I would guess the majority of the student body would beg to differ. In the past few years many of the college’s charming and cozy living spaces have been bulldozed in order to make way for the construction of spacious, white cubes set aside for the upper crust. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate that I had the opportunity to apply to live in a mansion made out of paper, balsa wood and glue and be rejected. However, part of me misses the undeniable charm of the domiciles that had to die in order for these boxes to be birthed. Dear reader, take a walk with me if you will, and I will feed you knowledge of some long-gone, tastefully janky housing options. Continue reading
Ah. Nostalgia.
[This article was co-written by Eve Asher ’13.]
Hey class of 2013, remember how when we were first-years everything was awesome and fun all the time? And now everything is terrible? What could explain this? Certainly not us getting old and jaded. Must be that the school’s changing. Mhmm. Yup. Remember these relics of happier times?
The Bexleys. When I was a first-year I used to dream of one day living in a Bexley. You see, kids, where now stands a field of enormous gleaming cookie-cutter houses, there was once a street lined with modestly sized, kinda run-down cookie-cutter houses. They seemed so glamorous and adult compared to my room in Gund. But the NCAs make the Bexleys look like the New Apts. Also the NCAs don’t host a sweet block party, which is a real shame.
Thanksgiving break is just a few days away, and for us first years, it’s our first big break from college. For many, this means arguing with relatives, eating delicious food and catching up with old friends. For me, this means a soulful reunion with my stuffed animals.
Kind of hoping my parents will pick me up from the airport in this.
The Kenyon Thrill 
