Every fall semester, Skidmore hosts “Scribner Seminars” for its incoming first-year students. These seminars explore, through meaningful discussions and written analysis, topics ranging from “Womanhood in Russia” to “Codes and Cyphers.” This fall, “Defense Against the Dark Arts: Technology Edition” is currently being taught by Professor Aarathi Prasad, along with Peer Mentor Azizul Hakim ‘26.
Read moreWhen I tell people that my summer plans consist of me spending two months in Wisconsin, I’m usually met with looks of confusion. The resounding question seems, simply, to be “Why would you choose to be in Wisconsin?” This leads into my spiel about Madeline Island, one of the 22 Apostle Islands on Lake Superior.
Read moreSam Kasmin and Darren Aronofsky’s latest film has made controversial waves in the film industry. Beginning with a poorly shot, cheaply lit, and all-too familiar sequence reminiscent of an 80s risqué independent film, this meditation on privacy, surveillance, and the ultimate meaninglessness of conservative values has been criticized for its shameless exhibitionism and perverted sense of self-humor…but isn’t that the point?
Read moreYou know that feeling when you’ve smuggled a goldfish or hamster into your dorm, hoping to avoid the RA’s radar? Imagine that, but on a mythical level. As in, my pet isn’t even supposed to exist. Meet Arlo, my majestic—and slightly feral—griffin, currently residing in a makeshift nest under my bed. Sounds insane, right? Welcome to my life.
Read moreMost students at Skidmore College have heard the whispers that a ghost haunts the campus. But few know her name—Cecily Rowe—and even fewer know why she remains here, wandering the corridors, unable to leave.
Read moreIt was raining, of course. The kind of rain that doesn’t fall but sinks into you, deep into the marrow, until you feel as if your bones are heavy with it. The funeral procession moved in slow, stilted steps, a stream of black umbrellas bobbing like oil slicks under the bleak sky. I kept my distance, partly because I didn’t know the man well and partly because something wasn’t right.
Read moreYou are a force like Victoria Falls,
Named for the Queen, yet more aptly,
Called Mosi-oa-Tunya, “The Smoke that Thunders.”
Read moreIf you told me a year ago that I’d be getting my first real taste of Skidmore College through a summer academic institute, I’d have laughed. But here I am, fresh off the plane from North Macedonia, basking in the energy of this campus I’ve dreamed about for months. This article isn’t just a love letter to my future alma mater; it’s an exploration of what Skidmore represents.
Read morePhoto by Matthias Gellissen
He isn’t a mighty dragon that any myths depict, bravely fighting off adventurers to protect his treasure, nor a fearsome companion that I soar through the skies with. You won’t see him on the battlefield, roaring with enough strength to shake the earth; in fact, he’s the quietest member of my family, squeaking only in surprise in the 20 gallons of water he lives in. He’s a Spanish ribbed newt, which my 11-year-old self named Issac Newton, a birthday gift that excited me beyond belief. I was over the moon upon learning that he could live with me for 20 years, defending me against the great foes of boredom and homework; my mom was undeniably thrilled to hear that as well, the remark conveniently made after she’d signed the receipt.
Read morePretty Little Dead Thing—
Sky Creature Hit Ground,
you were always invincible to me,
above the Earth’s cruel touch,
but It has taken you.
Read moreHe isn’t a mighty dragon that any myths depict, bravely fighting off adventurers to protect his treasure, nor a fearsome companion that I soar through the skies with. You won’t see him on the battlefield, roaring with enough strength to shake the earth; in fact, he’s the quietest member of my family, squeaking only in surprise in the 20 gallons of water he lives in.
Read moreI’m a wanderer, a nomad of sorts
When I walk, you follow, and when I hurt, you hurt
If there were a path we went down
I wouldn’t look back or turn around
I’d go and know, you followed…
Read moreThey walk together hand-in-hand. He savors what they have. His best friend. Her pale skin glows in the moonlight.
She’s so striking.
Shaking the thought out of his mind, he turns to her,
“Tell me something.”
“I love you,” she lilts.
Read moreI’ve been breathing for a while. I can feel the wood against my back, and taste the air. But my heart hasn’t started beating. It’s an odd feeling. I can tell that time has passed, and I can tell that my consciousness has returned, but my internal clock is still broken and my life hasn’t come back.
Read moreI reach into the depths of my backpack and become engulfed by a sense of relief when I feel the sharp metal object. I begin to pull it out, or at least try to. The key gets tangled in the pages and pages of Greek grammar notes shoved into my backpack. It’s been two months and I still don’t know how to conjugate the verb “ειμαι.” The key finally makes its way up into the fresh air of Pangrati. As the cool key hits my sweaty hand, I realize that I cut my index finger…
Read moreShe doesn’t give the baby another look and leaves the room on swift feet, passing the maternity ward and not stopping till she exits the swiveling doors and collapses in the spiky grass outside the horrid walls that reek of death, even around life. There are light pink peonies, like the baby's hat, growing out of a small patch near a hospital garden sign. A monarch butterfly flaps its wings and floats in front of her and a gentle breeze wipes the tears from her face with a soothing whisper. It’s cruel how beautiful it is. As if nature itself refused to give her another look, to even regard her pain with a gray cloud or drop of rain. The flowers would keep growing; the flowers would keep living.
Read more“You wait until the day before finals to scream? kid i’m screaming every day #collegelife”
Read moreAugust 17, 2141, onboard the FES Daedalus. First Lieutenant Ziva Schaefer snapped out of her thoughts, still staring listlessly out the window of the craft into the intense darkness.
Read moreI looked for you.
You were not in the kitchen,
The ugly orange tiles lay there, lonely.
You weren’t in the dining room.
Read moreAn attack on the city was inevitable.
Granted, it was New York City.
Read more
