A Series of 10 Fortunate Events

This week entailed a ton of Bread Loaf bucket-list-y adventures, so here they are.

Adventure #1: Chicken Parmesan 

The Bread Loaf cafeteria food here is decent. Some days are better than others, though. For example, shepherd's pie that's really just soup with beans on a plate is not my...well, it's not my shepherd's pie...it's not really anybody's shepherd's pie because it's just soup on a plate. Most meals aren't too bad, though, but they do tend to feel college-dorm-esque, so Dan and I decided that we wanted to cook some real food. After excessive deliberation, we decided to experiment with making Chicken Parmesan from scratch (and without a recipe, because we're adults, and cooking shouldn't be that difficult). The recipe for our Monday Night Chicken Parm.

1. Decide which ingredients you actually need. Check the fridge to see what you don't have, then decide to use some of Jake's food (ie: eggs) just as Jake walks in the door. Perfect timing!
2. Go to the co-op to buy bread crumbs, flour, and too much chicken. If you pass by a fancy new beer, you have to buy it because you're shopping for a meal with Jake and Dan.
3. Get back and figure out your plan of attack. Decide how to bread the chicken, and what order to cook the food in. Determine that frying the breaded chicken before baking it with the cheese sounds about right.
4. Get 3 pieces of chicken fried and in the baking pan, then realize that there's too much chicken for just this one pan, so get another pan going while you wait for the oven to preheat.
5. Notice that the one of the burners is a little smoky, so open all the windows and the door. Watch as a neighbor you don't know walks by, and make it look like you know exactly what you're doing.
6. Stare confusedly at the oven when the chicken refuses to cook anymore. Realize that the oven blew a fuse.
7. Go ask that neighbor you just saw if you can awkwardly use his oven since you're in the middle of cooking a meal. The neighbor says yes.
8. Arrive at the neighbor's apartment with all the pans and excessive amounts of chicken. Start preheating the oven. Make awkward small talk with the neighbor whose stove you're using.
9. Have Dan call the landlord while you're in the other apartment with Jake and the neighbor. The landlord will explain where the fuse box is and tell you how to fix it.
10. Precisely at the time the neighbor's oven is preheated, find out that the oven in Dan and Jake's apartment is now functional again, and schlep all the necessary items back there to finish cooking.
11. Don't preheat the oven to a hot enough temperature, so only cook half of the chicken fully before deciding that you don't have enough time to wait for the rest of it if you want to make it to Adventure #2, so eat what looks mostly cooked, hope you don't get food poisoning, and dash out the door.

Adventure #2: Hearing Susan Choi, Bread Loaf professor, Pulitzer Prize nominee, and author of books like My Education, American Woman, The Foreign Student and Person of Interest read from her most recent novel.

Adventure #3: Watch as everyone you thought you knew becomes addicted to Pokémon Go.




Adventure #4: Spend 5 hours in the library "rereading" a 700 page novel in order to find every single reference the author makes to outside sources...Yay for final papers starting!

Adventure #5: Trivia Night, Second Year Edition

As you may recall, our trivia team was pretty boss last summer. If you can't recall, click here for a reminder of how well we did. This week, we got the band back together and we...definitely didn't do as well as last year. I'm pretty sure we tied for second-to-last place. Our team name was epic, but, alas, we didn't win that prize this year either. We still had a blast, though, and correctly answered some very obscure Bread-Loafian questions.





Adventure #6: Take way too many nighttime photos just to get this one.

Adventure #7: More Chuck Pierre sightings! (You're just going to have to trust that there's a woodchuck in that photo.)

Adventure #8: SWIM IN THE POND!

At the beginning of the summer, my WWI Lit and Culture professor, the amazing Jennifer Green-Lewis, essentially dared our entire class to spend our 15 minute break running down to take a dip in the pond. Yes, it's the same pond as the Pond Reading pond. Last week, Maggie and Maya convinced me to join them on their mission of taking on JGL's challenge, so, on Thursday, we brought our swimsuits to class. Before the session started, we collectively freaked out about how gross the pond water would be (probably covered in algae or something), the creatures we would likely encounter (Please, God, don't let us be bitten by leeches!), and the possible medical issues that might follow our adventure (Falling on a slimy rock and hitting your head? Definitely possible. E coli in the water? Also possible.) Despite our trepidations, we decided to go for it at the 3:30 break of our 3 hour class. Unfortunately, we were only given a 10 minute break, as opposed to the normal 15 minute break, so we literally ran all the way down to the pond. The water was surprisingly clean, though definitely not clear. No algae on top, yay! We did spot a toad and a fish, but they pretty much left us alone. We walked into the water, almost slipping on the muddy bottom several times. Pemberton joined us, too, even though (brave soul) she hadn't brought a swimsuit with her! We swam for a minute or two, then hopped out in order to change again before heading back to class. As we stood on the bank of the pond changing under our towels, just as most of us were halfway dressed, it started to rain. And I mean, it RAINED. There was thunder, wind, and a torrential downpour. Luckily, we were all already wet from the pond water, so we didn't mind much, but we were officially soaked when we got back to class. I'm pretty sure that pond jump was one of the most Bread Loaf Vermont-y things I could have ever possibly done, and it was awesome. 

Adventure #9: Listen to Professors Gwyneth Lewis and JGL talk shop.

Jennifer Green-Lewis (the WWI professor, you'll remember) absolutely loves discussing the works we read and would probably spend all day doing so if she could. So, when she asked if our class would like to meet outside of our scheduled time to chat about Wilfred Owen and David Jones some more, we obviously obliged. Added bonus: Gwyneth Lewis, the inaugural National Poet of Whales, came to talk to our class about In Parenthesis, a "novel/poem/prose" piece that includes a lot of Welsh mythology. I could listen to the two of them talking about their love of poetry forever.


Adventure #10: Feel human again.

Bread Loaf is an amazing place for innumerable reasons. Sometimes, though, it's easy to get caught up in the rush of it all and lose yourself in to do lists, writing assignments, mini-adventures, and the whirlwinded chaos of it all. Last night's pond reading was a much needed jolt out of that mindset. In the Barn instead of at the Pond (because of the thunderstorm earlier), Oskar Eustis, the Artistic Director at The Public Theater, read this piece to us. It's about, among other things, the fragility of life, the finality of death, the necessity of moving forward, and remembering who you are. Many in the audience were moved to tears, as was our reader. When all else around us is so easy to be swept up in, hearing these words made me feel human again. They brought back reality, and made all of us think about what really matters. Yes, what we are doing here is good, but it is not the end. We live lives outside of this campus and off of this mountaintop, and there are people in those places who are hurting. We are so safe, so secluded up here, and it's easy to forget that we are people, that we are alive, and that the real world is still turning. So, thank you, Oskar, for bringing back that moment of recognition for us, and helping us to feel again.
 

In A Bread Loaf State of Mind

First, an update:

In looking back through my pictures from the past week, I realized that I've apparently been doing a ton of homework since the only photos I have are (totally un-posed) ones of my books, the library in town, my view from that library, and ones that show how late I got back to campus each night. The main reason I spent so much time studying this week was because I knew I'd be away all weekend at a wedding, so I got my school work completed (for everything up to and including Tuesday) ahead of time so that I could thoroughly enjoy this celebration...which I definitely did! As much as it looks like it, though, I didn't only study this week. I also went to a speech by author/historian Lucy Maddox, played Ultimate Frisbee for the first time in forever, heard fireworks reverberate off the mountains on July 3rd, went to class on the 4th of July, went to dinner at The Lobby for our traditional "No Work Wednesday," and started interviewing some of my peers. I decided on my final project for my Critical Writing course, and I don't want to spoil it just yet, but going through these interviews leading up to the project is such an inspiration. I so enjoy talking to these lovely people and hearing all about their teaching lives. Being here and surrounded by all these inspirational teachers is such a blessing!
 Above, the school books and my dorm when I come home late. Below, photos that prove I sometimes go into town. Additionally, more photos of the library view and the Vermont sunsets that I'm obsessed with.

[This one I totally stole from other people, but it's amazing. Photo credit: Sarah]

Next, another reflection:

Leaving campus this weekend was a really strange experience. Last summer, I spent a weekend away in Boston for Independence Day. This year, I didn't have the chance to celebrate elsewhere because we had class on Monday (that's what happens when your program is only 6 weeks long), but I did go back to the Midwest for a few days. Leaving campus is always a strange experience. Here at school, there is a communal, streamlined mentality; we all have a similar purpose that drives our focus in everything we do. Walking away from that mindset and back into the "real world" is always jolting because Bread Loaf starts to feel like your entire life when you're up on the mountain. The community here is so strong, vibrant and linked that it's strange to think that you had a life anywhere else before this. Leaving campus for a few days in the middle forces a shift into remembering that you do have a real, fulfilling life away from these buildings. 

However, the experience was even weirder because of the place I went. The marriage of Mr. and Mrs. Hampton was a beautiful thing to witness, and I was so grateful to be present for such an incredible occasion. Their wedding brought together people I hadn't seen in more than a year, and catching up with all of them was truly life-giving. Seeing the newlyweds' joy and talking to old friends was revitalizing in many ways. After spending so much of the past year with the same few friends, it was nice to remember that there are more people in this world who have been keeping up with me in other ways, even when we don't see each other...the strange wonders of social media! But, at the end of the evening, it was really bittersweet because I had to say goodbye to those same beautiful faces, knowing that I likely won't see many of them until maybe another whole year goes by. In some ways, I guess that's just what it means to grow up and move on after college, but it's kind of tragic, isn't it, experiencing that much joy all at once, just to know that you won't have that same moment again. But that's life, I guess! 

After an event that caused such a whirlwind of emotions on its own, coming back to campus was terribly discombobulating. At times like this, it's no longer about being fluidly comfortable in the swing of things; now it's more about figuring out why exactly I am in this space. It's beautiful, sure, and the people here are incredible. But it has to be about more than that. To really feel the Bread Loaf state of mind is to recognize that what we do here (all the learning, reading, writing, teaching, listening, sharing...) is for not only ourselves, but our students. And, I know it's cliche, but our students are the future of our world, so we have to allow ourselves the opportunity to learn as much as we can for them. Yes, this experience also has to be about us Loafers (we are, after all, the ones spending our vacation days working our tails off instead of relaxing or traveling or whatever it is that normal teachers do). However, we are here to serve a greater purpose. If we want to make the world a better place for our own students, then we must first be students ourselves and absorb all that we can in order to disseminate our findings for them in new ways and with greater understanding. 

So, thank you, reader, for letting me work myself back into that state of mind through writing here. I know it's not the most exciting read this time, but at least you got some pictures out of it :) 

Week 2 in Numbers (with lots of pictures!)

Yes, I did actually count all of these things because I spent 5.5 hours reading in the library today, so I think I deserve a reading break, and, as all English types know, math is the least English-y thing you can possibly do.

THE FUN NUMBERS
Kuub games played: 3
Kuub games won: 2


Poems read by my roommate at the summer's first Blue Parlor: 2

Epic speakers heard: 2 (Alison Bechdel and Oskar Eustis)

Pictures taken of the sun through the trees: 14

Pictures taken of the clouds and the mountains: 62

Songs sung at the Bob Sullivan pond reading: 2

Woodchuck sightings: 16...including Momma Chuck!

Bocce games played: 1
Bocce games lost: 1
Game night games played: 3 (Code Names, Linkee and Timeline)
Games lost: all but 1
Minutes it took to win/exit the Escape Room: 48:20
Place we ended in after finishing that Escape Room: 2nd


Books purchased: 2


Mini-backpacks that everyone weirdly obsessed over: 1


Songs danced to at the 80s dance: all of them!

SCHOOL-ISH NUMBERS

Presentations given: 1

Other people in the library with me: sometimes 0...creepy

Times I've been the only person in the Barn: 1

Hours in workshops: 2.5
Hours spent in the library: approximately 22
Pages read: 421

The Constants and the Changes: An Update and a Reflection

The Update:
Here we are, at the end of Week 1! So far, I'm really excited about both of my classes:

• Critical Writing: This class offers far more freedom than most people are comfortable with, but I am pumped to take on the challenge of it. We will read articles and a few larger texts while writing on topics (mostly of our own choosing) before creating a final "project" that showcases our growth as writers. It can be about anything from food literacy to musical criticism, so we'll see what my classmates and I can come up with!
• Lit and Culture of World War I: We've only had one day of this class so far (it's a Tuesday/Thursday afternoon class), but I'm already obsessed with it. The reading list is insanely intimidating: it started as several novels and nonfiction texts, which several more paintings, songs, poems and articles were added, and the reading for just my next class included 70 pages of nonfiction, multiple poems by 5 different poets in our anthology, and 4 extra poems from a handout in class. Despite how crazy that might seem (and it is), Day 1 was absolutely incredible. Within the first 10 minutes of class, the professor had already engaged us in personal imaginings of what the war was like, probing us to dig deeper into our reasons for our thoughts, and almost the entire class was involved in the discussion. The way the professor asked questions, and then sincerely listened to and elaborated upon the answers, showed that she truly cared what we thought and that she was really listening. As we did cold-reads of some poems in class, the professor had a blank copy of the handout in front of her, and she was taking notes on what we were saying as we talked about it! Obviously we were doing the same thing, but seeing a professor write down what you said is both highly intimidating and highly encouraging because it makes you feel intelligent, important, and heard. 

Aside from that, the biggest new thing is my housing. Last summer I lived in the Annex, a fairly small building next-door to the Inn, which is the main business-ish building on campus (mailboxes, offices, the dining hall and writing center are all in the Inn). In the Annex, the feel very old-dorm-y with their dark carpets and almost rustic furniture. The best part of the Annex is its porch, which is an awesome social space. The bathrooms, though, are the worst part of the Annex: your knees touch the stall door when you sit, the showers are only big enough to turn around in, and the space outside the shower in which you would get dressed is the same size as the shower itself, while also facing the next shower, so you share dressing space. If that's confusing, just know that it's really tight quarters. The Inn, on the other hand, is freaking gorgeous. Everything has recently been renovated, so the rooms have furniture that I wouldn't say is sleek, per se, but it's definitely more modern. The porch usually feels more like it's a place for passers-by than socializing, but the bathrooms are absolutely amazing. You don't realize how wonderful a bathroom can be until you've lived in the Annex. I can't even explain in words how glorious it is to be able to wash your hair without hitting your elbows on the walls of the shower. Just know that it's wonderful. 

Anyway, bathroom talk aside, everything here is just as great as it was before. I've already spend what feels like 100 hours in the library (which is an accomplishment I'm strangely proud of), but I haven't just sat in the new comfy chairs there the whole time. I also explored the fancy gym down on the actual Middlebury campus, saw the "opening ceremony" of the summer, went for the inaugural Flatbread journey with a gang of 8 of us, made some new friends in the dinning hall, and went to the contra dance on Saturday night. Fun fact: I walked into the dance only having taken about 4,000 steps (it was a double-library day), and left about 3 hours later with more than 15,000. So if you're looking for a decent workout, find a way to contra dance. 

The Reflection: 
While traveling back up the mountain just five short days ago, I realized that absolutely nothing had changed; the scenery was exactly as I had found it a year ago, almost like Holden's view of the Museum of Natural History. (I'm sorry! I don't even like that book!) That sameness is both beautiful and tragic. These mountains are still intimidating in their stately grandeur; the sky is still an impossible shade blue; the buildings still show their classic green and gold. Last summer when I first drove to the mountaintop, I was awed by the magic of it all. (For the first-year version, click here.) It's sad not to feel that wonderment again; however, while this time wasn't a magical adventure, it was a homecoming.



Every moment of my time here just feels right. Within the first few hours of my return to campus, everything was already back to the same-old swing of things that it had been a year prior, as if we'd never left. After the initial "How was your school year?" and "How've you been?" chatter, we all dove back head-first into the normalcy of what friendship means at Bread Loaf: knowing people who are all just as obsessed as you are about the same things that you are...and they're also just awesome people in general. I love having this sense of community so immediately instilled, even with the first-years I've met. The reason for the human-magic of this place, I think, is because it's not just about our literary obsessions, though; it's because of our obsession with doing all that we can to make the world a better place. Our jobs as English teachers (publishers, writers, librarians, etc.) are not simply to force the books down people's throats. Instead, our jobs are to instill empathy, to promote justice, to challenge norms, to require contemplation, to engage humanity, and to bring passion to all that we do. That's a high bar for a pretty "normal-seeming" job, but that's the bar we set for ourselves here. We are not the types to be satisfied with letting the world pass us by unchanged; we are the types to get our hands dirty (in the ink that we read and write with, and in the conflicts that arise in conversations) in order to, as Ignatius would say, "go out and set the world on fire." With only two days of classes under our belts, I already know that we are ready to take on this beast of a challenge this summer to do all that is in our power to make this world a better place, starting in our classrooms, and Bread Loaf is the perfect place to do that. As our faculty-celebrity, Oskar Eustis, said at the welcome ceremony, "This place is destabilizing. It's in the world, but not quite of the world. It's a great place to get lost, to slowly put yourself back together so you can go out into the world and bring change to others." And that's exactly what we intend to do.