Note: This article was originally posted in The SpringHillian, a student-run newspaper at Spring Hill College. It ran in Volume 84 Issue 20.
I hate Spring Hill College.
I hate the pre-club drinking outside my dorm window every Thursday night my sophomore year.
I hate the cafeteria attempting to give me vegetarian options by cooking random vegetables I've never heard of and ruining an otherwise good meal.
I hate the daily smoking outside the front door of O'Leary that forced my windows closed on even the nicest of days. I hate the constant smell of marijuana in the halls of Murray that made me so sick that I had to hold my breath every time I used the restroom at 2 a.m., and I hate the ignorance of fellow students on matters of very great import.
I hate the petitions where most signers sign just because of the popularity of the guy/girl who is sitting behind the booth. I hate the prejudice that causes 95% of students to continuously avoid me even after four years at this godforsaken college.
I hate the elections of our joke of an SGA, the politics that govern the various groups of friends on campus, and the complete inability of what few people I do meet to comprehend (let alone appreciate) basic stances of morality such as pacifism and veganism.
But thankfully, none of that is what I pay my tuition for. I love my classes, especially the philosophy department. Dr.s Kobelja, Forstrom, and Morgan have repeatedly made me think about issues I'd never considered before, a feat well worth attention.
Dr. Cyphert is the most precise teacher I've ever seen, and though his classes are tough, once you've finished one of his courses, you realize that you've learned a lot.
Dr. Allin, whom I only had the chance to take a couple of classes with, introduced me to so much, including Stephen Jay Gould, for which I am eternally grateful. My literature classes broadened my horizons on the fiction front, and my history classes did the same for nonfiction. My sole writing class gave me the confidence I desperately needed in my writing skills; my theology classes taught me the lesson that there are a lot of people who can actually be intelligent and have faith in some random religion at the same time.
But classes are not all that I enjoyed during my stay here.
I love my friends, who all care for me for whom I am. I love the bookstore that constantly gave me a supply of new reading materials at the beginnmg of each semester. I love the new library, whose halls introduced me to so much that I would not have otherwise read.
I love the grass that gave me a place to read, and the old AB computer lab, that allowed me a chance to chat online while looking out at the golf course late in the evening.
I love the chapel, where I could wake at three in the morning and play the piano, or just cry in the pews until I fell asleep and was woken early the next morning by the sunlight.
I love Carpe Diem, and the attic above the chapel, and the golf course when the sprinklers are on early in the morning. I love staying overnight in the student center three years ago in order to sign up for housing, and playing video games on the big screen in the bio building until the cleaning crew came in.
I love Spring Hill College.
—Eric Herboso, '06
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