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And, most importantly, because of my name, I understand the preciousness and fragility of life.This year, I succeeded with ink, paper and a shiny black piece of history. They know this basic truth about spoons, a basic truth about their reality. Spoons are overlooked things, but can often exemplify very different lives.
1–2, 2019 Make your plans now to join fellow Owls, family and friends at Rice Homecoming & Reunion, marking the 100th anniversary of the university’s first homecoming and the formation of the Association of Rice Alumni.
Rice’s residential college system forms the heart of campus life.
Students are randomly assigned to one of our 11 coed colleges as freshmen and remain affiliated with that college throughout their time at Rice. All students are welcome and encouraged to participate in more than 200 student organizations, including performance, media, athletic, academic, religious, cultural and political groups.
With this full range of extracurricular options, students can pursue existing passions or expand their horizons by trying something new.
Their essays came pouring in—part of the record number of applications Smith received for the class of 2018. No matter what kind of emotional and economic consequences my parents faced, they gave me support and unconditional love. My mother dreamed that I was descending from heaven holding my great grandma’s hand. My best friend, to whom the Corona went, is the only person in my life who shares both my love of the past and my secret desire to sit, as many great female authors have, at a typewriter and just pour my soul onto stacks of white paper.
From a reflection on the meaning of socks to an ode to an antique typewriter, their stories illustrate the thoughtful, creative spirit of the latest class of Smithies. As a weak premature baby, I was not expected to survive, but my parents still gave me a beautiful Japanese name, Ayumi. This fantasy has been woven through many long, emotional conversations and is a simple representation of our complex bond.
I think loving Slonik has taught me that love doesn’t always make sense, but it remains real. Covered with patterns ranging from sloths to slot machines, my socks represent a wide array of exotic places. And whether the ritual began because he thought socks would be a meaningful souvenir, or as a last-minute purchase at the airport gift shop, he would unfailingly bring me a pair of socks from everywhere he went.
I spent this past summer at an educational program in Israel.
All I know is without Slonik (for such is his name; using it makes me uncomfortable), I have trouble falling asleep.
At some point over my childhood I started treating Slonik like a tiny creature with feelings, though I never thought of him as human.