Home court

My favorite part of Geneseo’s campus is the outdoor basketball court on north campus. The court’s tread is blue, and the nets on several of the baskets are shredded. The court’s location is close enough to the dorms to feel like it is part of campus, yet close enough to the athletic fields and woods to make a game of basketball feel more natural and relaxing compared to the same game indoors. The sunlight outdoors can warm one up on a cool day, and the wind can cool one off on a warm day. The best part of the entire experience is the sunsets I see while playing. 

This court holds personal significance that predates my application to Geneseo. During my first visit here, I had few standards by which I judged colleges: campus layout, the quality of dorms,  the quality of dining halls and recreational opportunities. The blue-top court first caught my attention when I toured the school in the Fall of 2018. It was close to a lot of residence halls and I specifically remember telling my parents that the court would be the factor that made me choose this school. 

Fast Forward to my first day at Geneseo… as fate would have it, I ended up at the outdoor basketball court. Had I not played on that court the first weekend, I would not have met some of my best friends here. The outdoor court will always hold a special place in my heart; the fact that I can go there and always make new friends speaks to the importance of sports and the reach basketball has beyond being just a game. That–and the aforementioned reasons–is why the outdoor court is my favorite place on campus.

Sustainable Kindness

Throughout high school, I have dedicated most of my time volunteering with special needs individuals. I had the privilege to work with a six-year-old girl who, when she saw another child on a field trip, would run up and quickly announce her name, take out all of the toys she had brought with her, and begin to play with the child she had just met. I also worked with a teenager having limited verbal skills, who nevertheless was able to give you the best hugs and root for you better than a cheerleader ever could. I volunteered at Camp Anchor, where an adult would greet me every time with a handshake: “How was your day?” “How are you feeling?” What I have observed throughout my time volunteering is that in the life skills community, kindness is not just a simple “one and done” type deal; it is a way of life. All these people that I have mentioned live their lives through love, and have a surplus of love to give to every person they encounter. Their kindness is sustainable, maintained at such a high level not only as children, but through adolescents and adulthood as well.

Self-care, like the environment, is not solely dependent on the direct influences in your surroundings. Flowers do not bloom where there are no seeds planted. They are spread through the pollination of bees or the animals around them. Once finding their homes in the soil or water, it is the care and conditions of the soil, air, water, and overall nature that helps form the full plant. The sustainability of kindness acts similarly. Children are like the bees and animals, the care and conditions. Once you come in contact and experience the love of the life skills community, you begin to grow. I honestly feel that if we all adopted kindness as a way of life, the world would be a better place. –Hannah

Connections

Welles Hall at SUNY Geneseo, seen in near-silhouette

What is it about nature writing that reminds me of geography? Geography is a discipline I have come to love as a student at Geneseo. It has opened my eyes and made me fall in love with the environment around me and has therefore given me a greater appreciation for earth and its hidden beauty. But what is geography? Simply put, it is a multifaceted discipline that connects humans to the world and vice versa. It analyzes the physical side of the world as well as its human, social side. As I was choosing courses for this semester, I was informed to take the introductory writing seminar that the college requires. I wanted to take a course that I would be able to understand and find passion in as I did with my other geography courses. The one interrelated idea I can take away from both nature writing and geography is the interconnectedness with nature and the human population–how nature is in everything. It’s everywhere you look, from the trees to the cellphone in your hand to the sidewalk you walk on. In this is a sense of discovery for what it’s like to be on the other side of nature: to be able to see the world’s relationships from the human eye. The human connection to nature is undeniably positive nor negative as it influences the way nature behaves. As humans we often overlook this phenomenon since it is so common and mundane in daily life, but I encourage everyone to take a step back and appreciate the way nature and humans interact in the everyday environments surrounding us. We should be inclined to find the deeper meaning of nature while appreciating its beauty. The ability to deeply define and relate these experiences and relationships to living an interconnected life through nature writing is an amazing skill that I am sure to take with me long after this semester is finished. –Gabby N.

I should have made a longer playlist

Aerial view of Los Angeles freeways and interchange

This summer I found myself spending most of my weeks in Laguna Beach, California. Originally, I was going to write this post about the beach and all the clichés that come with it, but rarely do we write about the endless freeways, the express lanes that somehow still manage to get backed up, or the days where the mountains can’t be seen in the smog.

Out of curiosity, I looked up the directions from my mom’s house in Redlands to Laguna. She lives 60 miles away, so ideally it should take an hour of driving to get there, or much less if you drive 85 mph until you see a cop. But in true Southern Californian fashion, as of 6:35 AM Pacific, it takes an hour and 53 minutes to get to Laguna on the CA-91. It takes two hours and 16 minutes on the I-10.

With my driving record, I rarely drove, which left me with hours of staring at charred trees from one of the many forest fires on the toll roads to Irvine. The traffic extended to the toll roads. Imagine paying to sit in traffic. The canyon into Laguna is much worse: the two-lane highway narrows into one lane, and suddenly everyone forgets how to merge. But the canyon is also one of the prettier sights on the drive through, its dried grass giving off a golden glow. I always try to reach for the sunflowers on the side of the road, but I have yet to succeed. 

It would be a lie to say I don’t mind the traffic, but I can appreciate it slowing down my life just enough to look at things I normally speed past. –Tanya

Morrow’s Honeysuckle

Group of students poses with invasive plants they have pulled

Roemer Arboretum, on South Side, is a wonderful place to visit on campus. The peace one feels when walking through the densely wooded path is hard to put into words. Although this peace is felt by us, it is not felt by the plant growth. Recently, the forests in and around the Geneseo campus have been facing a problem–invasive species. These plants and animals have slowly been eating away at the shrubbery in New York, and killing off the native species of the region. From emerald ash borers to the hemlock woolly adelgid, the list goes on and on. One species that is an evident problem, especially in the Arboretum, is called “Morrow’s honeysuckle”. Native to Asia, it was brought here purposely as “an ornamental plant, for erosion control, and for wildlife forage and cover”. However, it ended up taking over areas, out-competing the native plants and becoming a dense cover on the forest floor.

A call to action was recently announced, and students on the Geneseo campus were asked to help remove these invasives from the Arboretum. Taking up the opportunity, my peers and I were supplied with tools and started the cleanup. This process was not easy; the plants were about my height and had thick roots that clung to the soil. The seeds on the plant were an issue too: sharp needles on their outer covering clung onto my shirt firmly. Eventually, after our grueling cleanup, the area was empty, and we were able to replant this land with small native species. This part was calming, and being able to transfer these fragile plants into little holes we dug was satisfying. The hard work we did paid off, and we were able to step back and look at this new “garden” we created, which will hopefully last for a while. We then lightly covered the area in mulch and called it a day.

Being involved with this cleanup opened my eyes to the fact that students on campus need to take action with problems, whether they be minor or major. Although we replanted a small portion of the Arboretum, this is a step towards the complete removal of invasive species and a return to a more natural environment. I’m hoping to involve myself further in another cleanup in the future, and I urge every student to do the same. –Carlo Tobia

Three paths, three gifts

Path on southside of SUNY Geneseo campus, day time

When you first lay eyes on your SUNY Geneseo adventure, you will likely be seeing the south side of campus, where most freshmen live: Onondaga, Niagara, Wayne, Suffolk, and Nassau halls. But have you ever wondered where everyone from all those places congregate to get to the other side of campus? The answer is a tale of three paths, marked by a big rock on the side by Onondaga and a lamp post by the side of Niagara Hall. During the day students rush out and about, converging near the three paths and heading to class. During the afternoon you might see them walking towards Milne to study or going to Letchworth to grab some food. At night they return to their respective halls down one of the three paths, marking the end of a day.

Seagull perches on top of light post

When I first settled in to the south side of campus, I couldn’t help but notice how the big path from the townhouses splits off to three paths. Now, from outside my window at Niagara Hall, I wake up every morning to a seagull perched outside. From August onwards, the seagull has accompanied me from its perch on a lamp post. As strange as that sounds, I feel it as a special gift. Another lies directly across from that very lamp post, where a giant rock and a row of trees dot the landscape, welcoming people to the south side: all of them are identical, planted right beside the left path which leads to Onondaga. The trees line up well with one another down the path, leading students out of south side and waiting to greet them with as they come back. The big rock right beside the point—where the three paths meet—is a place to take stunning pictures of Onondaga field and to meet up with friends on their way to classes or lunch. But it’s also home to small insects, too small for the human eye to see. This brings me to the last gift: the three paths foster a community like no other. People from all the halls converge here, and that is where I saw new friends playing ultimate frisbee who invited me to play. These might just be three simple paths and three simple gifts, but they have laid the foundation for my Geneseo experience. I put my best foot forward and everything else has followed.

Southside path at SUNY Geneseo, day