Waiting to Wading
Your limbs look like
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Your limbs look like
My world exists in motion
“Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.” William Shakespeare’s Romeo seems to have romance all puzzled out. His method goes something like this: find someone beautiful and, if they don’t love you back, find someone else who is even more beautiful, and surprise-serenade them when they least expect it.
textured like snow
In July 1845, American transcendentalist poet, essayist and philosopher Ralph Waldo Emerson walked the same Old Chapel halls that Middlebury students and administration do today.
Paris. Where do I even begin? It must have started at age 10, when I bookmarked every page of “Secrets of Paris” my mom had found in bargain books at Barnes and Nobles. My fascination was enough to make me quit Spanish, fill my room with French paraphernalia and enroll in every French class I could get my grubby little fingers on. And now, ten years after the root of this obsession with a place I had never even been to, I am finally here.
I’ve always loved the holidays. For me, there was nothing better than driving to Keystone Lake with my family every December. As soon as we parked the car, I would run, cheeks flushed and heart pounding, down to the lake frozen over with the kiss of magical mountain fairy dust (okay, fine, snow). I’d strap on my skates as quickly as I could and make my way out onto the ice. I was in my favorite place, on my favorite day of the year, with my favorite people in the whole world. I never felt more content than I did in those moments gliding around that lit up pine tree, mountains rising with a hazy glow in the background, familiar tunes wafting from the lodge nearby.
No, this is not a narcissistic confession. No, this is not intended to brag about the things that make me THE BEST. This is a call to action for you all to write one of these yourself: an ode to the imperfect pieces of yourself that comprise the whole that people love you for. This is a way to express gratitude for being here and for being who you are. Here goes...
Applause. Deafening, thunderous applause resonated through Robinson Hall, as the crowd called for an encore. On Thursday, Nov. 11, the Middlebury Center for the Arts was graced by the presence of the Schumann Quartet and famous chamber musician and Middlebury affiliate artist Diana Fanning. The Schumann Quartet features siblings Erik and Ken Schumann on the violin, their brother Mark on the cello, and Liisa Randalu on the viola. The group stepped proudly onto the stage to perform in what they view as a metaphorical “dropping of masks, a true display of vulnerability.”
I fumbled around the bottom of my bag, frantically removing notebooks and opening zippers in hopes of grasping the one thing I am most insecurely attached to: my phone. Our relationship is not always mutually beneficial, one might say. I mean, two hours of Instagram reels and Pokémon GO is hardly a productive use of time, but at least I don’t have Tinder downloaded. Well, not anymore.
Here’s some advice my grandmother gave me when I was young: always watch a horror movie on a first date. I mean, what could be more romantic than shielding your eyes as your partner wraps their arms around you? What a great excuse to do the ol’ “yawn and stretch,” the ultimate protection from the characters that could very well jump off the screen and into your house. I still firmly believe in watching horror movies on the first date, but now I hold this belief for different reasons.Whether or not you agree, it does seem like the monsters that creep across our screens sometimes appear in real life. Horror movie tropes represent different types of partners you might find in your life, and certainly here at Middlebury.
Ralph Waldo Emerson’s view of love is this: “Human beings are like globes, which can touch only in a point, and, whilst they remain in contact, all other points of each of the spheres are inert.” While he is a controversial figure (for good reason, might I add), this transcendentalist literary guru had a unique perspective on love between two people. Connection is signified by two separate wholes that merely meet at one point on the spheres which represent their lives. Whether romantic or platonic, the connection implies that neither person completes the other, rather, each person supports the other so that their lives adapt and grow in unexpected ways with time. On Middlebury’s campus, I propose that we are all spheres: complex creatures with detailed interests, weaving and intersecting with the other spheres around us. Our lives become complete wholes when we nourish aspects of our identities and connect meaningfully with one another. Whether we are loving our hallmates, our class material, our extracurricular clubs, our sports, or our romantic SOs, we don’t need that one aspect of our life to make us “whole” again; the comprehensive whole lies in the process of cultivating a connection, the one point on our sphere. There are a lot of types of love floating around our school: “Love at first sight,” platonic love, “the first love,” maybe even “true love.” Perhaps we have skirted around the very idea of “I love you” for fear of getting too close, for burning ourselves in the heat of romantic seriousness and the prickly fear of commitment in our chests. I have both been afraid to say those three words, and also lived by the phrase “caution belongs to the wind.” I wasn’t really ready to have a relationship until this year because I used to look at love as a way to complete myself, incapable of seeing my worth on my own. I didn’t understand that love must be about prioritizing loving yourself first. To be honest, my romantic history has had some questionable characters: people who didn’t put in effort, failed to communicate, or hid how they really felt about me for fear of hurting my feelings. Have I been left on “read” for two months before? Absolutely. I’ve also gotten my hopes up only to have the person leave the date thirty minutes in, pushing his chair back exclaiming “I’m finished with dinner” after I admitted I didn’t like a certain Taylor Swift album. I’ve had a date become a “group hang” because my date had internally friendzoned me and was afraid to tell me. But we should not be settling for experiences like these. From now on, no more long wait times, hidden feelings, or lack of effort. In my current relationship, we give each other the time and space to talk about what we care about in life, whether that’s as silly as Legos or something as serious as social justice issues. If one of us knows we need to do something for our own happiness, we’ll make that a priority too. Loving someone is wanting the ‘whole’ that is their life to be complete — even the aspects that don't directly relate to you. Love is doing everything you can to help someone by adding patches of light into their day. That could be bringing them coffee, writing a sweet note, helping them fold their laundry, or even just listening to them when they need it. Love takes shape in thoughtful action, especially toward yourself. After all, showing love to yourself helps you best extend that love to other people. “I love you.” Everyone says it at different times: sometimes it’s never, sometimes it’s two weeks in (as was the case of my first boyfriend), four months or six, but really, you should say it when you feel it. My friends are good examples of complete wholes finding points of connections among our group and on their own romantically. Here’s what they think love is: Love is feeling at home: whether that’s a place or with people, you feel like you can be your true self without having to worry about how you’re perceived Love is cherishing every moment you can with someone Love is a feeling of uncontained happiness in someone’s presence Love is overcoming our fear that we aren’t worthy of connection Love is helping other people get what they want in life But if I know one thing, it’s that love isn’t an obligation. It’s not something you owe to someone. It’s not something you can always hold onto. It’s something that terrifies us, and lifts us from our own depths, excites us, and inspires us into growing into ourselves in the world. Love is the glue for everything. “I love you.” “Really? I love you too. I’ve known for a while now. I love you…” “So much.”
My first love was my home. Mine is the block with the broken sidewalk tiles and the dogs that always bark at inconvenient times and the houses that have seen a century more of the world than I ever could or would. Now, though, I know in my heart — and most definitely in my parents’ bank account — I’ve opened my mind to a new home. And since home and love are synonymous in my head, it seems I’ve also opened my heart to a new love. But Middlebury wasn’t always a love of mine. There were certain undesirable attributes that Middlebury left off its online dating profile: the emotional unavailability that took the shape of cold spells, the lack of hygiene that was that curious stain on the Battell wall, and the gaslighting which made me question whether it was possible to miss home as much as I did, or if I was simply crazy. By the end of first semester, soon after our relationship had just begun, I was ready to break up. Middlebury was determined to win me over, though, and by our 75th date (J-Term), I began to see Midd in the romantic way I see it now. As it commonly happens when people fall in love, some of the aspects that drove me crazy about Midd became some of my favorites. Since love is the closest thing we have to magic, Battell had a certain magic to it: the late-night conversations in common rooms, the constant bustle of energy wafting through open doors, and even the bathroom rendezvous were endearing. I didn’t know that living with so many people in a tight space or sharing embarrassing moments with someone who hears you talk in your sleep Every. Single. Night. could be so full. These moments can only be described as the type of joy where you feel like your face could break from smiling so hard, of moments where you’re staining your friend’s shirt with tears or singing happy birthday to another and of brief romances with flames old and new. Middlebury was resourceful, though, and like in the movies when a person uses their musical talent or cooking skills to woo a suitor, it played to its innate strength: the students and professors. In balancing moments of fun and study, Davis and elevated surfaces, everyone maintains a passionate, open-minded and driven spark to them. They all exude an encouraging, graceful attitude towards the success of their peers. The best example was my freshman year in Chemistry 103. I had been so used to my high school peers asking what scores I had gotten on exams; whether these conversations were competitive boasts or unintentional probes, I was surprised to learn that my Middlebury classmates seemed to be more interested in supporting their friends through the class rather than competing against them. We had study sessions, answered one another’s questions, and kept our grades to ourselves — and every class I’ve taken here since has followed this “collaboration over contest” principle. After a brief long-distance relationship, Middlebury and I knew we were bound to get back together for The Great Return in the fall, which attracts nothing short of magic itself. Like any good suitor, Midd always welcomes us with a flower bouquet: the rolling green hills speckled with crimson blooms that constitute our beloved Knoll. And what is romance without a sunset? Middlebury’s are sherbet-colored, and you can spend your time on long walks (or rounds of frisbee) on the Beach or share a private moment alone in the woods on the Trail Around Middlebury. Opportunity lies in those 15-person classes about topics you REALLY care about, the ones you research for (gasp) FUN, and in the clamor to ask your professor that question burning a hole in your notebook you’ve held onto for ages. Bonding with the people you love can be found tucked into the jeans you wear dancing at PALANA or Brooker, on hikes near and far, trips into the freezing Gorge (you think I’m being dramatic, try swimming there sometime), and in the seemingly mundane ventures to the bagel deli or the supermarket or the Best Coffee Shop In the Entire World, Dunkin’ Donuts. Where does this love, this magic, manifest itself? Sometimes you’ll find the magic on the bottom floor of BiHall in the armchairs by the big picture windows where all you can see is sky and cows. Sometimes it’s in the class you never thought you’d take (but you really need an art credit and a theater class), where you slow dance with a broom. Too specific? I’ll try again. Maybe it’s in the challenge to take a class in a subject you thought you weren’t designed for, but you learned something that you’ll never forget and you’re glad you took it in the end. Maybe it’s in the date you went on at the bench overlooking the fields, or in the a cappella group you joined on a whim, in a packed WOMP, or perhaps just in the content quiet that Middlebury usually embodies, except for those nights that the artistic, athletic, academic energy has seeped under your door frame, making it impossible to sleep at night. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had my fair share of challenging moments at Middlebury. I’ve lost friends, pulled all-nighters to study for exams, gotten less-than-perfect grades, missed home, had breakups, and felt imposter syndrome more often than I’d like to admit. These frustrating moments, though, helped me grow as a student, a friend and a daughter because I began to see Middlebury, and life, more realistically. Though magical, this campus still has flaws, my days still have ups and downs and, despite and because of these imperfections, I felt more appreciative for the “ups” than ever; my love transitioned from superficial to real. Though one might not necessarily call this a “romance piece,” I would politely disagree. This love affair with a place that has shown me more joy, more confusion, more curiosity and more challenges than I have ever experienced in any other home, is not really a love affair, after all. Unlike love affairs, Middlebury is a place that lasts, that really has meaning to me, I’m sure to you — and to any of you who are new, to you, too, even if you don’t feel it yet. Middlebury might be one of the Greats, the Great Loves one has in their life. The Great Loves don’t fade, even with time’s gentle touch. Yours truly, The Middlebury Romantic The Middlebury Romantic is a way to open conversation around romance and love in the Middlebury community, in whatever form it might take. People have preconceived notions of what romance is truly like at Midd, like the prevalence of hookup culture or the marriage expectation, yet these notions still leave room for missed connections, confusion and, in extreme cases, heartbreak. Stay tuned for articles on when people say, “I love you,” online dating at a small school, horoscope compatibility (Co-Star put this in my “dos” for the day, I don’t make the rules), dating archetypes, Atwater romance and romantic comedy parallels to college life. Consider the gates around all things romantic opened, and should you have suggestions or need anonymous advice, please contact the writer of this article (no expert, simply a hopeless romantic) directly.
Even NASA’s Voyagers sing in space. They have each been equipped with a golden record filled with art, music, mathematics and greetings in an array of languages — prepared to communicate with the universe about the culture of our earth — and have been launched into space on one of the most significant journeys of our time. For centuries, the world has praised art for the change it can set in motion, the values it can instill and the way it revolutionizes our sense of purpose. This year, I have had the pleasure of seeing students adapt to performing comedy, dance and music over Zoom. Whether this took the shape of Baggage Claim improvisation, Evolution Dance Crew breaking it down or my own friends performing their favorite funk songs at WOMP (Wednesday Open Mic Performance), Middlebury students have boldly reexamined how to be creative in uncharted territory. As a journalist who attends numerous arts events at the college, I have been impressed by the ferocious determination of students, staff and faculty members to fight on behalf of the arts in this past year of limitation. Examples of this dedication could be seen in moments as small as the clear masks worn by performers so that audiences could see their lips move as they acted and sang, and they manifested in phenomena as big as the widely beloved Nocturne arts festival. Though many artists traverse our campus solar system, my actor, poet and musician friends shared what art has meant for them this past year. “I’ve noticed a new sense of community around the art spaces I’m a part of this semester,” Poet Nimaya Lemal ’21 said. “People come to rehearsal excited to be with each other. Poets listen to each other with particular focus and thoughtfulness.” Paradiddles a cappella member Abby Wilner ’23 also found community in art. “The arts are a wonderful form of connection here. At a small school, it’s so nice to find people with the same passion as you,” she said. Musician Mickey Feeney ’23.5 similarly noted the prevalence of these smaller artist circles and said, “In my experience, the arts at Middlebury are enlivened by a small yet extremely passionate group of students.” Actor Annabelle Iredale ’23.5 said, “Everyone involved in the arts at Midd has been incredibly creative and flexible this past year. It has been such a joy to experience and explore the endless innovation constantly on display on this campus,” while Lighting design student and actor Will Napper ’23 said, “I’m really happy that theatre has been able to stay strong during the pandemic. Even with all the restrictions in place and precautions taken, it’s been great just being able to present some live theatre at Midd.” However, it’s easy to see art through the lens of a small liberal arts college rather than expand our own views to see that we are surrounded by galaxies that resemble our own. “Projects are geared very specifically toward a Middlebury audience, and I think this puts real limitations on creativity. I would like to see more people taking on artistic projects which are not exclusively for MiddKids, but for themselves and the broader world,” Feeney said. “Art is not about impressing other people or inflating your ego, but about creating something that exists in the world like a beacon of light, coming from the depths of one’s interiority and healing the world with its honesty, authenticity and vulnerability.” The time, thought and care it has taken to nourish the arts at Middlebury this past year should motivate the college to cherish its community of artists in the future. Artists will always be important to building the expressive culture the college should want to put forth. If art has not only existed but thrived in times of uncertainty and turbulence, art will surely continue constantly searching for ways to reach new places — even places beyond our galaxy. Imagine a world stripped away, diluted to visual and auditory silence: no music, no dance, no cooking, theatre, sculpture, design or poetry. Without those golden records, the missions of Voyager 1 and 2 and their role in our universe would have been fundamentally different. The world — and, on a much smaller scale, Middlebury — glows with the promise of future creativity, aestheticism and expression to create connections of astronomical importance.
Think back to when you were younger, to a time when your creativity and imagination transported you into alternate worlds and transformed you into different versions of yourself. The childlike sense of wonder may be long gone, but fairytale daydreams have the lasting power to make difficult moments seem less daunting — even if just for a moment. The Middlebury College Department of Theatre’s production of “Giants Have Us in Their Books,” which ran from April 16 to April 18 both in person and online, transported its audience back to the fairytale stories of their childhood, while weaving in some of the harder things to deal with. The play is a collection of short works written by two-time Obie Award winner José Rivera, the first Puerto Rican screenwriter to be nominated for an Oscar. Rivera referred to the plays that comprise Act 1 as “the naïve plays,” stories which deliver realistic situations, like the trials of puberty and lying, with an air of lighthearted, fairytale-like wonder. Act 2 was a more sobering, introspective collection of short plays written by Rivera a decade later in 2017, and included timely topics like homelessness, grief and the effects of the New York State’s 2011 Marriage Equality Law. Associate Professor of Theatre and the department’s chair, Alex Draper, directed the performance. “When it became clear that we were going to attempt to resume in-person performing this spring, Olga Sanchez Saltveit, who is directing our upcoming production of Branden Jacobs Jenkins’ “Everybody,” and I both began looking for plays that would honor our commitment to feature more underrepresented voices on our stages while also taking into account the considerable Covid-19 restrictions and their impact on how we can safely rehearse and perform” Draper said. The faculty, cast and crew worked on “Giants Have Us in Their Books” through the difficulties that the pandemic has created for artists. “[I] selected a group of plays that fit the talents of the cast, were joyous and slightly other-worldly, but that also spoke to issues that echoed beyond our immediate everyday lives,” Draper said. He explained that the plays were written in such a way that they could be rehearsed mostly in groups of two, and could be performed without actors overcrowding backstage areas and dressing rooms. The curtain opened on a short scene called “Flowers.” Lulu (Sara Massey ’23), a 12-year-old girl, begins the play with what looks like a pimple on her face, but the bump slowly grows into a tapestry of leaves and flowers all over her face and body: a metaphor for how, through puberty we are brought from adolescence to adulthood and taken over in ways we cannot control. “When it’s over you’re completely different, unrecognizable,” Massey said in her performance. Mostly though, we grow into better versions of ourselves with time, much like seeds transition to buds, which grow to become leaves. A short play, called "The Tiger in Central Park” closed out Act 1. This urbanized myth and parable for AIDS featured the supposed existence of a mythical beast: a human-by-day, tiger-by-night, reported to be strolling around Central Park. “[‘The Tiger in Central Park’] aimed to tackle sexuality and death, and establish a relationship between these two major aspects of human existence,” cast member Beck Barsanti ’23.5 said. “In my interpretation, sexuality and death were things that every character tried to control without fully understanding the implications of either one.” After the intermission, Act 2 opened on “Charlotte,” a scene set in a picturesque apartment. A homeless woman (Courtney Wright ’21.5 ) who does not want to be pitied, is taken in by a caring individual, and we see a verbal tug-of-war between the two. At last, the host, Felix (Masud Tyree Lewis ’22), expresses he had only hoped for Charlotte’s gratitude after he had helped her out of the rainy night, leaving the audience to wonder about the nature and sincerity of altruism. The show concluded with “Lizzy,” a tense meal where two siblings address the passing of their mother, and “Paola and Andrea at the Altar of Words,” a reaction to the legalization of same sex marriage in New York State in 2011, shown through wedding vows. “It was a joy to be able to share the plays with both live and virtual audiences,” Draper said of the performance. Looking ahead, he said, “We have a busy spring lined up, with three of our majors presenting productions as their senior independent theses, and we close the season with Olga Sanchez Saltveit’s production of Everybody in and around Wright Theatre.”
It’s midterm season again… but isn’t it always? Nevertheless, it’s time to hunker down and do what we’re all here to do: study. Given the pandemic, the combination of completely remote, hybrid-flex, and in-person classes has been perplexing to navigate. We have had to completely rethink how and where we wish to learn: from home or on campus, online or in-person. In recalculating which mode of study works best, we may be lacking inspiration for how to spark our intellectual curiosity outside of the classroom. A large part of how we perform in classes depends on how well we can prepare ourselves in hazily-defined free time. Maybe you find that you spend more time in your room so that you can study without a mask on. Maybe you find it difficult to focus at all given in this stressful time. Or perhaps you’re simply tired of going to the same spot in the library and want to spice up your study plans. In light of these shared experiences, some students have come to the rescue with fresh locations on campus for you to reignite your love of learning. Jordyn Johnson ’23 often studies in the cubicles in the library when she’s “actually trying to grind.” Sometimes she takes a quick jaunt over to McCardell Bicentennial Hall to study in the ends of the western-facing corridors that if she wants a soothing view of farmland. However, actually studying isn’t always the goal. “Axinn in front of the water fountain is good for fake studying, which means just trying to run into friends and talk,” Johnson said. Torre Davy ’21 said has tested out different study spaces over the last few years. “I tried all the famous ones — Abernethy Room, Davis, Crossroads, you name it. It’s never worked for me super well because I love people-watching,” he said. “My favorite study spot has always been my room, and that’s a point of pride because not many people I know can actually get work done in their room.” First-year Aly Fedde ’24 is experiencing Middlebury College with fresh eyes. “My favorite study spots are BiHall at one of the end cubbies so I can see outside, but only during the day, or at the standing desk area in Davis Library so I don’t fall asleep, on one of the mezzanine levels at Davis, or outside on the Mead Chapel hill when the weather is nice,” Fedde said. Emma Tzotschew ’23 and Andrew Grossman ’23 share a love for Axinn, Davis and the Mahaney Center for the Arts. Tzotschew said that she has nomadic studying habits and likes to spend her nights in Axinn or migrating between different spaces within the library. “Today I travelled all the way to [Mahaney] to work on my art history sketch and paper, and that was a lovely place to meditate on art,” she said. Tzotschew said that the Mahaney has a “clean vibe,” while Grossman said that the space “feels like a mall; it’s outside but inside.” The Arts & Culture Editors weighed in, noting how switching between hidden and public spaces offered a good routine. Owen Mason-Hill ’22 is often in the Film and Media Culture Multimedia Lab in the basement of Axinn burning the midnight candle and making use of headphone-induced silence to get his work done. Emily Ballou ’21 has shifted her study habits over the years — in her first year of college, Ballou could often be found in Mitchell Green Lounge in McCullough Student Center and the basement of the Chateau. Since then, she has found that the wooden nook in the MAC that looks over the outside pond to be the best location. Eliza King Freedman ’23 also enjoys studying in the MAC, though she prefers to work downstairs in its more open seating. “I need people to be able to see my computer screen to hold me accountable,” said King Freedman. Acadia Klepeis ’24 prefers to work exclusively in Davis, often reserving a private room with great natural light where she doesn’t have to wear a mask. In my own experience, the best places to study are tucked away from the bustle of a campus full of familiar faces. You can often find me holed up in a corner of the Freeman International Center, the Coffrin bike room or outside of the Anthropology classrooms in the Johnson Memorial building. My best studying happens in remote locations where I am inspired by the art or scenery around me. In the bike room, the tires make me feel like I am moving forward. The Anthropology classrooms are shrouded in a mysterious dim light and the FIC is warm and inviting. Study space choices at Middlebury run the gamut from extremely public to off-the-grid — some students choose both options in the same night. But on our expansive campus, you don’t have to settle for a blue chair in the Library: there is always someplace new to discover when you have to crack open your Biology textbook or write that five page essay.
Are you looking for an intimate, introspective moment of relaxation and recuperation after a long week of studying? What could be better than putting a pair of headphones in, walking out into a fading Middlebury sunset and letting music wash away the triumphs and tribulations of the week? “Devil’s Rain” is a new alternative album by New York-based Maria Bobbitt-Chertock ’19.5 — who goes by the stage name Maria BC and uses they/them pronouns. This five-track album is as calming as it is empowering, with songs centered around its theme of highlighting juxtapositions. Maria BC pushes the idea that there is always darkness in light just as there is light in the dark, noting moments of sadness in happy relationships, nostalgia in progression and feelings of worthlessness in self-confidence. The purposeful contrasts begin with the album title, named after a popular folk tale. “Devil’s rain” refers to a Southern saying about sunshowers: when sunshine and rain occur simultaneously. This sunshower is believed to be the devil beating his wife. Their songs feature similar themes of apparent, including waking dreams, the touch of the untouchable (intangible spirits), a chorus of one and rain without any clouds. Throughout the album, each song blends into the next. A mellow beat and the murmur of Maria’s soothing and ethereal voice carry across each track. “Devil’s Rain” begins with the titular track, which sings softly of a summer day the sun “cradling” Maria. This first song sounds like waves ebbing and flowing to the sound of their lullaby-like humming in their soft and breathy voice. The electric guitar in minor chord progressions accents the slow on-tempo beat, echoing off the walls of your mind as if in a tunnel or walking on an abandoned beach. It is almost as if we ourselves are experiencing the sun and rain in this uplifting, peaceful track. The album then shifts to a song called “The One I’ll Ask,” a ballad about finding oneself. Making their vocals sound distant, Maria uses vebratto in their voice to mirror the increased prominence of the electric guitar. This traditional and religious sounding song speaks of the “sun stepping in” to relieve Maria, adding light to their moment of sadness. The darker undertones of the music juxtapose the higher pitch and lightness in their voice, which further mimics their message of opposition just under the surface. “Unmaker” begins with a beat that sounds like a ticking clock and is coupled with religious undertones in Maria’s reverberating choir-like voice. You feel as if you are sitting in the back of a church with floor-to-ceiling stained glass windows, taking in the grandeur of its acoustics. In “Adelaide,” we listen to Maria speak to their lover about their emotions: the fear of being vulnerable and of failure, the sadness that occurs when opportunities slip away and the disappointment felt when one can’t get what they need from a relationship. We see this when Maria pauses before saying “I don’t want to tell you this here,” likely guarding the “you” from the difficult news of breakup. They sing with a voice that grows higher and softer as the truth of their inevitable ending becomes clear. Finding comfort in discomfort is the message Maria BC dictates to us; it is possible to grow in unexpected places, like a dark, dank alleyway. “The Deal” uses repetition, and an echoey, duplicated voice (similar to that in “Unmaker”) to sing of heartbreak. We hear a slow breakdown of amplifier noise interference with the electric guitar, and the album cuts out abruptly at the height of its distortion to let us stew in our emotions. Maria BC highlights our tendency to shut out what we don’t wish to accept when they say “I don’t want to know anymore,” and that it is time to “lean another way,” adjust accordingly, as the guitar breaks into amplifier static. “Devil’s Rain” reminds us that we exist in a balance of opposites — between joy and grief, love and heartbreak, emptiness and fulfillment. The range in their voice from soft waltzing to loud outbursts, mirrored by the guitar, makes us feel the way they do. We are transported to their world of sun breaking through the rain, difficult vulnerability and acceptance of our inability to fully process emotion.. Music like “Devil’s Rain” comforts us amidst the contradictions we experience in our own lives, so tap into soulful music like Maria BC’s for solace in paradox. Correction: An earlier version of this article mistakenly used incorrect pronouns to refer to Maria BC, who uses they/them pronouns. This error has been corrected.
It’s Friday night. Through a hazy memory of Middlebury of ancient times (well, a year ago), you can picture what you would normally be doing: getting dressed up in ridiculous outfits, gathering friends from near and far into teeny tiny rectangular dorm rooms, and going out to all of the best spots on campus to dance the night away. Now, Friday night causes tension; students feel the strain of the restrictions they must adhere to in order to stay safe. Five people in your room? That’s a no-go. Dance parties? What dance parties? With Midd Movies, however, all these worries seem to dissolve. Midd Movies is a Middlebury College exclusive streaming platform, hosted by MCAB. On the site, you will be greeted by a vast array of over 700 films, arranged by category: comedy, romance, action and more. “This service offers backup programming and alleviates pressures from many student [organizations] to constantly plan events,” Trishabelle Manzano ’21, member of the MCAB board, said. “Those who are introverted, like myself, and/or those may not feel as comfortable leaving their rooms can simply use this service to their hearts content on the weekends. Sometimes we just have to give ourselves one of these mental health days as well.” If you’re a fan of comedy, you’ll find classics like “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off” as well as more modern films like “The Big Sick” and “Crazy Rich Asians.” Action, science fiction, horror and mystery movies are abundant, so you’re sure to find a film that you and your friends can agree on. Date night? Midd Movies has got you covered. With romantic movies like “Dirty Dancing” and “The Notebook,” you’re sure to lock eyes with a quarantine cutie while appropriately socially distanced and masked. From my first-hand experience watching “Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs,” date night has never been so suave or exciting. "Whether you’re from Middletown or the Midwest, Midd Movies offers anything but middling movies (i.e. Midway (2019)) to the Middlebury community. We have the ability to watch some of the greatest works of cinema in the past century: everything from “Boss Baby” to “Cats” is available on Midd Movies. It is the best use of your tuition since 10:00 p.m. Ross,” MCAB board member Gibson Grimm ’22 said. This past weekend, my friends and I decided to watch “Mamma Mia.” We set a laptop at one end of the hall, hooked it up to a speaker and spread out so we could dance to all of the best ABBA tunes. Enjoying one another’s company and rekindling the best of Middlebury in times past has never been as easy as it is with the help of Midd Movies. What once seemed daunting and limited has grown into an exciting challenge. Instead of deciding whether or not we can spend time with our friends in a global pandemic safely, we are exploring fresh, new ways to do so.
“finally,” a collection of short plays and monologues written by Asian American and Pacific Islander (AAPI) playwrights curated by Emily Ballou ’21 for her senior work in directing, turned a spotlight on the lack of Asian representation in the media and the performing arts. The show, which ran in-person and virtually on Nov. 6 and 7, explored themes of belonging, acceptance and identity. Ballou said that she had the idea for her senior independent project about Asian American representation in performances while watching Lauren Yee’s show “Cambodian Rock Band” during a theater department trip. “It dawned on me when the curtain fell that I was in a majority-Asian audience, seeing a story with a stage full of Asian actors,” she said. “I couldn’t fully explain my emotions, but on the long bus ride back to Middlebury, I realized for the first time in my life, I felt seen.” Inspired by the presence of a historically and currently underrepresented Asian community, “finally” followed the journeys of Asian students, writers, actors and musicians as they navigate the obstacles of the white-dominated artistic world. “AAPI representation on stage and on screen has been extremely limiting,” Production Assistant Sean Rhee ’21 said. “Many AAPI actors had to play stereotypical ‘fresh off the boat’ immigrant roles and imitate Asian accents because they didn't have other available options. So, this production clearly expresses that AAPI playwrights and actors have so much potential beyond those tropes.” At the show, the curtains open on a small bookshop where two women peruse the selection of plays lining the shelves, setting the scene for Mia King’s “You Barely Existed.” The characters engage in a discussion about the limited selection of monologues available to budding Asian American actors and the young actress is left disappointed after seeing few options for leads that she can relate to and portray. The following plays explore different dimensions of the Asian American experience. Lauren Yee’s “King of the Yees,” addresses the difficulty of not being considered “fully” Asian in the eyes of society. And “Once Upon a (Korean) Time,” written by Daniel K. Isaac, demonstrates feelings of invisibility in an alienating society. “This show is dedicated to those who struggle with their identity and still feel alone,” Ballou said. “Peerless” by Jiehae Park explores the pressure among Asian communities to leave behind a legacy. On stage, two girls discuss the obligation they feel to secure careers in the medical field. The next piece, Carla Ching’s “Nomad Motel,” grapples with the competing ideals of monetary success and happiness as the character attempts to deviate from familial expectation of “being great” so that he can be happy. Next, “Keep Me Posted” by Stephanie Kyung-Sun Walters comments on finding connection in an increasingly digital world. The show concluded with “Usual Girls” by Ming Peiffer, which explores low self-esteem induced by social standards and advocates for strengthening the principles of feminism in the arts. In “Usual Girls,” Ballou took to the stage herself to recite Pieffer’s impactful monologue about shifting focus both inside and outside of theater to ideals of intersectional feminism and Asian representation. “Given the ‘perpetual foreigner’ label that constantly follows AAPI communities and the rise in anti-Asian discrimination during the Covid-19 pandemic, this production fits perfectly into the modern context as well, indicating that we belong where we are,” Rhee said. One of Ballou’s favorite things about the production was bringing in new actors who had not been previously involved in the theater and arts scene at Middlebury, which she described as a white and Eurocentric space. “It’s been a joy having the opportunity to provide a platform for students of color not previously involved in the theatre department, or theatre at all, a chance in the spotlight,” she said. “finally” exists as a call-to-action for all members of the Middlebury community and the arts to hear and share a more diverse set of voices of color. In identifying a problem in theatre, Ballou hopes to encourage further inclusivity in lieu of the one-dimensional and often racist portrayals of Asian and Asian American characters. “We need a new system, one not based on oppression, exploitation, or degradation. We must recreate a new one where all humans are seen and valued,” Ballou said. Editors’ note: Emily Ballou, the director of “finally,” is an Arts & Culture Editor at The Campus and Sean Rhee, Production Assistant, is a Visuals Editor at The Campus. They were not involved in the editing of this article.
Have you ever had an idea you’re so excited about that you find yourself blurting it out to all who will listen? Have you grown tired of keeping your passion for a topic bottled up like Middlebury’s iconic surplus of orange Gatorade during Phase One? This semester, a new magazine is making its way to the Middlebury Campus courtesy of Ben Beese ’21.5 and a board of eight editors. Brought to life this past September, To Whom it May Concern provides the student body with an online forum wherein they can share what they find captivating: ideas, passions, niche interests and projects. The creation of the platform drew on and departed from several prominent existing platforms on campus. Beese intended to create a different platform than a traditional newspaper publication. “There’s a lot of things to learn about that aren’t news, which are worthwhile to talk about,” said Beese. He hoped that To Whom it May Concern would offer a place for students to share their passions with one another outside of traditional rigid formats like the Spring Symposium. He also thought of the platform as similar to #MeetMidd, though he said To Whom it May Concern has “an intellectual way of engaging and exploring the diversity of this campus: what people do and the experiences they have.” As of now, the existing articles on the To Whom it May Concern page include decolonizing museums, teaching mathematics as a language and how this can combat math anxiety, creating social solidarity in times of Covid and connecting ecofeminism and mosquitos. Beese emulated how the Local Noodle pulls people together and works together as an institution that attracts campus-wide interest. The editorial board makes the major decisions for how to best grow their platform by accepting new people who wish to contribute to the magazine. Beese terms their process as democratic and collaborative. “We wanted to make this publication accessible to everyone, even if someone doesn’t identify as a writer or isn’t as comfortable with writing,” said Beese. According to him, some board members work as writing tutors at the college and can provide support for writers regardless of their skill, since the platform zooms in on their ideas instead of their writing style. “What we were trying to emulate was the type of conversations you would have in a Proctor booth: really educated conversations on really important topics,” Grace Hering ’21.5, the publication’s treasurer, said. According to Hering, people lacked a wider audience to share these conversations with outside of their friend groups in the past but the publication can fill that void. “I really admired Ben’s vision in seeing an absent space on campus and knowing that he could fill it. There were so many times I thought, ‘I wish I could bring this to campus,’ but I never did anything about it. And it takes a special kind of person to go out and do it,” Hering said. Board member Nimaya Lemal ’21.5 discussed her experience writing for the publication in September. “I wrote an article about how in this era of separation and social distancing, there has been a huge influx of social activism and questioning what is this country we live in,” Lemal said of her piece “Togetherness in the summer of separation.” In the article, Lemal explores how the pandemic gave people’s lives a pause, which has been generative towards figuring out who we are and what we want for the future. “I think this publication is a chance to have interesting conversations and to put out to the community what you are passionate about in a format that really speaks to you. It memorializes what this moment at Middlebury might feel like for different students,” Lemal said. It’s clear to Beese that he can capitalize on the nerdy side of the college and engage with interests beyond classroom settings. “Our primary goal is to strengthen our community ties by helping understand one another better. We are hoping to highlight that so students can get to know the student body better, almost like a mirror,” Beese said.