How well do we all know the residence halls on campus? There are 18 dorms at Mount Holyoke College at the time of this article’s publication, gradually built following the fire that burned down the College’s original Seminary building in 1896. A colorful bunch, each has their own distinct quirks and drawbacks. Your personal taste may affect how you see each one, but they all have something to offer that truly makes their residents’ experience unique. This past week, I visited three dorms that stand out in their modernity.

I woke up too late to catch the bus to class. I don’t like to run, and I hate running late. I’ve always struggled with balancing the things that I do with the things I don’t want to do.

BY MIA PENNEKAMP ’20

With Valentine’s Day around the corner, I find myself wondering how to spend it. Lube and candy hearts on the bedside table, obviously. But is there more than that?

BY MIA PENNEKAMP ’20

It’s the first day of a new semester. Once seated around the table, your professor makes a request. Introductions: name, class year, preferred pronouns and a fun fact.

BY MIA PENNEKAMP ’20 

1. One day you will finally get an A from the professor who has never given you anything but Bs. 

2. Don’t forget to keep up with your oldest friends. The ones who know you cold and ugly and like family. If you do forget, one of them will call you out for it on Easter in a coffee shop. She will sit across from you, wearing a leather jacket and a yellow scarf, and you’ll both tear up. 

BY MIA PENNEKAMP ’20

The first time I saw Mount Holyoke it was summer. Everything was green. I wore white jeans and sandals, the sun browning my spaghetti strap-clad shoulders. There was powdered sugar on my jean jacket from a drive-thru donut shop (my mom came, so there had to be donuts). We toured the campus and she walked quickly ahead of me, her curls wild, shoes platformed and button-down tucked in. We spent the day exploring the valley and ended with white wine, pizza and conversation over a small wooden table in Northampton. “What did you think?” she wanted to know, clearly smitten herself. She had the giddy excitement of a school girl. The hazed eyes of infatuation, lovesick off her own college reminiscing — North Carolina in the ’80s. I had one burning question: “Mom,” I asked, “seriously, why is everyone lying in the grass?” 

BY MIA PENNEKAMP ’20 

“Where are you going? Heaven or Hell?” read the billboard as I drove by on the Peter Pan bus. “New York?” I replied in my head. Then there was a number: “Call 1-800-TRUTH to find out!” Goodie! 

BY MIA PENNEKAMP ’20 

I suck at being still. I’m the girl who bounces her leg up and down — shaking the table. I’m familiar with the feeling of hands landing on my thigh, and mouths telling me to please “be still.” I tap my pen, play with my hair, adjust my shirt. Chapstick and lotion, apply and reapply. I’m the girl who does calf stretches in the subway station. I rise up on my toes, relevé, plié, tendu. Dancing on my own. I suck at being still, and have for most of my life. I likely lack the discipline. What I do know: I’m intently, intensely curious. Anxious sometimes, always searching and scanning. Perhaps it was this curiosity, or perhaps my expensive and insatiable Sephora habit, that led me to a Mount Holyoke figure drawing class.

BY MIA PENNEKAMP ’20 

I remember the blackened tooth my sister had for a year because I let go of the rope. The game was tug-of-war; she was three and went crashing down onto the hard marble floor. I think I won that round. Ivy, four years my junior, looks a lot like me — with a few key variations. While I’m pale, she’s sun kissed. While I wear my dark hair straight and long, she embraces the natural tumble of her lighter locks. All of our shared features are softer on her. In both looks and personality where I’m sharp, she’s soft. I thrift cleavage-bearing tank tops, blue jeans and mini-skirts. She buttons up in head-to-toe J.Crew. Our differences become increasingly apparent beyond the physical. She’s calm and content while I’m loud and restless. Sweet where I’m snarky. Faithful where I’m questioning. She is orderly and organized, relishing in routine. I don’t make the bed, or the curfew. She would never let go of the rope.