Kelly Fitzgerald

Reader, my reminiscence is not really all that useful to you. I instead leave you with some instruction that may truly serve you: how to write an English paper.

Every afternoon, around 6 p.m. the last of the general chemistry lab students have cleaned up and left for their dorms, the classroom lights are shut off, and the professors climb the stairs from their offices towards the fresh air. On classroom blackboards the day's lectures can still be made out; arrows chase from atom to atom in sweeping gestures; equations are blurred into a language of extraterrestrial symbols. The clamor of the hundred fervent students who walked its halls that day fades away, leaving only the whirr of computers, the hiss of equipment, and the plod of dripping faucets: a deep and meditative respiration.

It is during this hour that Mudd is turned from a bedlam of intellect, anxiety, triumph and disappointment into a peaceful haven, restorative of calm and determination. The day's work has finished; the absence of the exams, laboratories, and research struggles is striking. With the breathless toils of present obligations removed, all that remains is the march towards tomorrow's efforts. Here, students' new labors will progress in harmony with the building's tranquil sighing—steadily, determinedly, and driven by calm necessity and the simple assurance that as the next problem rises, so surely it will be completed and fall in their wake. This is where you should write your English paper.

The students that remain within the building's resting walls are the members of an unspoken moonlight society of academe and camaraderie. Even as their unfailingly friendly faces are turned towards respective papers and screens, they reassure each other with an agreeable and secure presence. In that third floor laboratory, warmed by the assurance of companionship the students are allow each other a sensation of good-natured safety and focus. These will be your companions as you write your English paper.

Climb the stairs to the third floor of the building, and turn right to find the computer lab. The fourth chair from the back on the left hand side of the room has a sturdy armrest and swivels comfortingly with an optimistic murmur of churning gears. Turn to the desktop on your left and rest your forearms on the cool, smooth surface as you type. Look up periodically to observe the strange programming language being typed by your neighbor, to attempt to discern the faded note on the blackboard, or to simply listen to the slow breath of the building. Work carefully, and not too quickly. This is how you should write your English paper.

Write the structure of the building. Mudd's skeleton is clear and straightforward. Each floor is designated its own function, specific and finite. However, an intricacy of layout and content that adds unexpected depth to each section of the building. In the maze of the basement, a mere turn around a corner will draw one from a flask of living cells to a vial containing a single type of delicately purified molecule. The classroom laboratory function of the second floor is forgotten in a small side room, where exquisitely cultivated crystals are bombarded with X-rays until their molecular structure is discerned. Your paper must also have clearly defined levels and a solid foundation, but you must allow yourself to explore, forget, and reflect in the corridors and side rooms of your discussion.

The diversity of scholars and researchers that have walked the floors of Mudd have left a legacy within the building; they are present in the papers and posters affixed to the walls, in the well-used and carefully maintained laboratory equipment, and in the occasional flask of unidentifiable substance, ancient and repulsive enough to resist cleanup efforts, hidden in a laboratory hood. Write with the same diversity of intellect and recollection of previous scholars' work.

Write the respiration of the building. The calm, confident air of Mudd Chemistry sooths and reassures its occupants while telling the story of its heavy use in the education of the Vassar community within its walls. Allow your paper the same flowing poise, and you will find success.

Having been deeply involved in both the scientific and literary communities at Vassar, I am aware of the apparent divide between the two fields. I have heard peers in each discipline disdain the legitimacy of the other. The truth is that the studiy of humanities and sciences inform and enhance each other within the mind of a dedicated student. A multidisciplinary education provides a student with an exceptionally informed and discerning perspective with which she can approach any endeavor in any discipline. This is especially true at Vassar, a liberal arts institution that encourages a diversity of scholarship and assists its students in developing such a perspective during their time within its hallowed edifices.

If you don't believe me, try writing your English paper in Mudd.

—Kelly Fitzgerald is the outgoing editor-in-chief of Helicon.