Discovering the Hidden Gems of My Liberal Arts College Experience
When people ask, “What’s something interesting about your college?” my mind instantly races through a dozen quirky traditions, interdisciplinary courses, and the kind of campus stories that sound almost too surreal to be true. I’m enrolled at a small liberal arts college in New England, and while its name might not ring bells globally, its approach to education has reshaped how I see learning, creativity, and even myself. Let me pull back the curtain on what makes this place so uniquely captivating.
—
Where Philosophy Meets Robotics: The “Unusual Combinations” Course
One of the most talked-about classes here is called “Ethics in Artificial Intelligence.” At first glance, it sounds like a niche tech seminar, but it’s actually a philosophy course disguised as a coding workshop. Students dissect moral dilemmas—like self-driving car decisions or algorithmic bias—while building basic AI models. The professor, a former Silicon Valley engineer turned ethicist, challenges us to code and debate: “If your AI model could save five lives by sacrificing one, how would you program it—and could you defend that choice to a courtroom?”
What’s wild is how this blend of humanities and STEM attracts everyone from computer science majors to art history buffs. Last semester, a theater student designed an interactive AI installation that asked viewers to “negotiate” with a chatbot about climate justice. It’s this mashup of disciplines that keeps the classroom buzzing with “aha!” moments.
—
The Midnight Greenhouse Sessions
Our campus greenhouse isn’t just for biology labs. Every Thursday night, it transforms into an open mic space called “Rooted Voices.” Students read poetry surrounded by tropical plants, play acoustic guitar next to trays of seedlings, or even host mini TED-style talks about everything from astrophysics to social activism. The vibe? Equal parts serene and electric. One night, I listened to a chemistry major recite slam poetry about the periodic table, comparing elements to different personality types (“Helium: the friend who lifts you up but never stays grounded”).
The greenhouse also doubles as a wellness hub. During finals week, the biology department hosts “Plant Therapy” sessions where students repot succulents or sketch botanical illustrations to de-stress. It’s a reminder that learning here isn’t confined to textbooks—it’s about nurturing curiosity in unexpected spaces.
—
The “Secret” Library Tunnel (and Other Campus Legends)
Every college has its myths, but ours has a confirmed underground tunnel connecting the main library to a 19th-century mansion-turned-music-building. Rumor says it was used during Prohibition to sneak in jazz bands for secret performances. Today, it’s a shortcut for sleepy students during snowstorms, but its walls are plastered with decades of graffiti—inside jokes, quotes from famous authors, and even a “Solve this riddle for a free coffee” challenge from 2003 (unsolved, as far as I know).
Then there’s the “Thesis Tree” tradition. Seniors carve their thesis titles into a massive oak tree near the dining hall. It’s equal parts celebration and catharsis. Spotting titles like “Why Do We YAWN? A Multidisciplinary Investigation” or “Beyoncé and the Baroque: A Cultural Analysis” never fails to make me laugh—and marvel at the range of topics explored here.
—
The Class That Takes Field Trips to Graveyards
History courses here aren’t just lectures. In “Ghosts, Graves, and Memory,” we studied local cemeteries as historical archives. We analyzed epitaphs to understand shifting cultural attitudes toward death, decoded symbols on tombstones (did you know a broken column signifies a life cut short?), and even transcribed faded inscriptions for a community archive. The professor joked, “If you’re not comfortable chatting with strangers about their deceased relatives, this isn’t the class for you.”
But the real twist? For our final project, we curated a virtual museum showcasing how different cultures memorialize loved ones. A classmate created 3D scans of grave markers, while another interviewed hospice workers about modern rituals. It was hauntingly beautiful—and proof that even “macabre” topics can reveal humanity’s interconnectedness.
—
The “No Grades” Experiment
One radical policy here: Certain courses offer narrative evaluations instead of letter grades. Professors write detailed feedback about your strengths, growth areas, and how you contributed to class discussions. At first, I panicked (“How do I know if I’m ‘good enough’ without an A-?”), but it transformed my mindset. Freed from chasing points, I took intellectual risks—writing a play instead of a final paper for a sociology class or designing a board game to explain economic theory.
The system isn’t perfect (grad school applications still demand GPAs), but it fosters collaboration over competition. I’ve seen classmates swap drafts to give peer feedback—not because they’re angling for a curve, but because they genuinely care about each other’s ideas.
—
Why This Matters: Education as Exploration
So, what’s the thread tying these oddities together? It’s the belief that education shouldn’t be a rigid path but a landscape to wander. Whether you’re debating AI ethics at midnight in the greenhouse or geeking out over cemetery symbolism, the goal is to spark connections—between ideas, disciplines, and people.
I’ll leave you with a question my advisor loves asking during orientation: “What’s the ‘weirdest’ thing you hope to learn here?” Because at this college, “weird” isn’t a side dish; it’s the main course. And honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Please indicate: Thinking In Educating » Discovering the Hidden Gems of My Liberal Arts College Experience