Mikayla Watts (’23) on Being a Global Scholar

Part of what made me so interested in the Global Scholars Program was my lack of international travel. That may sound ironic, but it made me curious about the wider word. I think the domestic travel that I have done with my family is what made me realize that there is so much to see, learn, and experience outside of my small hometown of Geneva, Ohio.

What it feels like to be lost in translation

The reason I had never watched Sofia Coppola’s Lost in Translation is excruciatingly ironic: in its translation to my first language, Portuguese, the movie’s title was just plain boring. ā€œEncounters and mismatchesā€ (my closest translation of a bad translation) never really caught my eye. But, mostly because of quarantine boredom, I came across it on a nightly Netflix scroll and didn’t see a good reason not to click on it.

Traveling The Trail by Sarah Gielink (’20)

Earlier this month, I hiked 8+ miles by myself through the Cleveland MetroParks. I had only planned on taking one trail, but was enjoying myself so much that I took another connecting route and made a longer loop back to where I had parked my car at the trailhead. It was just before peak color for the season, and between the colorful leaves, fresh autumn air, and smell of the outdoors, I felt far more refreshed than I had felt in a long time.

“The Rocky Mountains,” by Avery Newcom (’23)

The Rocky Mountains,

You are gripping in the way your flowers taste
and your wind hits.Ā 

Your lush forests obtain a darkness
that can only be tamed by the melting sun.Ā 

You are haunting as the whispers from the trees
Ā transcend to a birds song.

They tell me you are vast and dangerous
Ā and I believe them for I have seen your harsh nature,
Ā but where else could my song be sung the loudest.

Giovanni’s Room is a story about homesickness – and it makes you feel right at home

The time whenĀ I read Giovanni’s Room, an extraordinary novella by the even more extraordinary James Baldwin, could have been the worst possible moment – but, surprisingly, it might have turned out to be the best. I was living through my very first real winter – all the previous eighteen had been a collection of only slightly chillier and less rainy summer days, as every winter is in Rio de Janeiro.