{ Hello }

Hello! I am Ida. (Properly pronounced /ida/, though most English speakers reduce the last vowel to a schwa in casual speech. You should look up the International Phonetic Alphabet if you're very confused right now.) What you see here is my Oberlin. I came to it by way of a town on the coast of Alabama, and before that, Denmark, and before that, North Carolina. Besides explaining to people why I don’t have a drawl, I like to make music, nerd out about linguistics, learn how the world works, and teach my body how to do strange and wonderful things like dancing and tumbling and parkour and running forever and ever amen. I'm also a great fan of getting educated about different cultures, partly because I was raised in a crossroads of a few of them (my first language was German; I spent a good chunk of my childhood running around the Danish countryside; I have a lot of French family; etc.).

Oberlin and I chose each other without my ever having visited, but it has been a generous home to me since my arrival. I have here a richer support system and at the same time a far more demanding environment than I could have foreseen, and every time I stop to check, I find a new, clearer permutation of me standing where the old one was. It is hard. And exciting! This kind of learning, where you have no choice but to come away from it changed, seems to be in the water here; everything you touch will refine you, not just this one professor or that one class. It is a quality I find invaluable.

{ Entries }


A Map for the Road

My corner of the blogs is now an archive. Here's how to navigate it!

What's Next

I have a degree now, whatever that means.

Final Notes

I have the emotional range of a thousand teaspoons.


Turns out going to college for four years means I have a lot to say about it.

A Happy End?

This post is a quick wrap-up of my activist life in Oberlin.

Brain Soup, Part Two

My final five classes in Oberlin; my scheduling swan song.

Confessions of a Student Activist

I'm a bit of a conflicted mess. So is the activist scene here. So is life, I guess.

Wintersemester auf Deutsch

In a word: silly.

Brain Soup, Part One

What subjects I'm putting into my head this semester.

March 4th, cont.

A reminder: solidarity and closure are mutually exclusive. Even when you have a lot of other stuff going on.

Fears. Moms. Advice. All of the Above.

I never imagined that returning to school could be a prospect that would scare my pants off. But here I am.

A Path to Oberlin

This is the route I came by. It's pretty short; pretty simple. Pretty totally acceptable.


I want it to be summer.

An Open Letter to My Fellow Oberliners

This is my voice; it stands with you. I stand with you.

Staying in Touch Was Never My Strong Suit

I have a great love for many of the people around me, but I don't do social. Reconciling those two facts is a battle that I'm not sure I'm winning.

What I Always Imagined Winter Term Would Feel Like

Did I promise I was going to talk more about linguistics? Yes. Would I be doing this even if I hadn't promised? You couldn't stop me with a heavy blunt object, my friend.

CS vs My Brain

Why this term is not as easy as I meant for it to be, featuring: a llama in a party hat, yours truly on a metaphorical balcony, and a quick historical linguistics lesson (among other things).

A Brief Introduction to Old B

Thoughts on being part of the smallest of Oberlin's housing co-ops; written and illustrated by Nora, a veteran Old B member.

On Being OSCAn

It is not easy. But also: "It is rare to be a part of something big that is so tied to human nature and so hinges on humans communicating with humans." - Ma'ayan Plaut

The Mechanics of OSCA

If you're wondering how co-ops run and what you will need to do once you are in them, this post is for you.


As of this morning, I have been approved for a double major!


The joy my German Studies major brings me is as contagious as its colloquial abbreviation sounds.

In Defense of Sore Muscles

As our Director of Athletics, William Roth, puts it: "'Learning and Labor' is just a rephrasing of 'sound mind, sound body.'"

Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger

I just spent a month training at a circus school. And if you think that sounds foolish or lazy, I invite you to read this post.

Under Pressure

Irish music sessions are playing hard to get, but I play harder.

Heart It Races

What happens when Architecture in Helsinki joins forces with Oberlin? I vomit happiness and bright colors all over my screen and call it a post of thanksgiving, that's what.

Fall Break, Take Two: Boston Edition

The continued description of my second Fall Break as an Obie, in which I walk a dozen miles a day, eat incredibly well, and don't get nearly enough sleep.

Fall Break, Take Two: Oberlin Edition

An illustrated description of my second Fall Break as an Obie, in which I hang out with a staggering amount of fellow bloggers, eat incredibly well, and fall even more in love with Oberthings.

The Little Flashmob That Could

Remember when I said I "will often go to mildly extravagant lengths to craft a present"? That might have been an understatement.

A Room With a View

How Sarah and I acquired and are now curating the best double on campus: Tank 303.

Hello Goodbye

In which I very belatedly introduce myself so that we can be friends.

I'm Waiting for the Day

Vorfreude, n. f: German for the anticipation of future joy, as in the week preceding Christmas, or just before all of your friends return for another year in Oberlin.

With a Little Help From My Friends

How Oberlin helped me cope after an oil spill (the cooking kind, not the Gulf Coast kind) left me with serious burns splattered along my hand and leg. Pictures not included.

A Hard Day's Night

The reason I was able to sleep like a baby every night, pay my bills, feed myself, and have money left over to plan for Winter Term: my summer job. Or, rather, jobs.

FYS136: Ways of Seeing, Ways of Knowing

A great big lesson in Hi My Name Is College Now Stop Slacking. Alternatively, a great big welcome to Oberlin.

A Day in the Life

My summer in Oberlin: a wonderland of busy.

Dascomb, Part Two

A tour, via photos, of the places I frequented all year in Dascomb.

Dascomb, Part One

Things about the first-year experience dorm in which I experienced my first year: how I got there, how my friends got there, and what it was like while we were all there.

Traditional Irish Music

The ExCo that taught me how to do it right.

I Crave Mats and Open Spaces

Are there support groups for people who can't stop tumbling? I need one.

Midterm Report, Part Two

Now that I have gushed profusely about my morning classes, let me tell you that I am even more enthused about my afternoon classes. Brace yourself.

Midterm Report, Part One

In which I gush profusely about how my morning classes are going this semester.

From Yarn to Garment X

A decidedly DIY guest post - if I combined my sheep-to-yarn skills with her yarn-to-clothes skills, we'd be unstoppable.

Mr. Riley Comes A-Callin'

If you were my friend and came to visit Oberlin, this is what we would do together.

Oregon: Alis Volat Propriis

A Winter Term learning independence among sheep, chickens, and seven year olds.

Flauting Con-vention

I love flute and I love Oberlin and this is about me and my flute in Oberlin.

Christmas Revelations

On existing outside of Oberlin, Oberlin affecting my thinking, thinking about food, and food for thought.

Finals! Featuring: Festivity and Friends

Why finals week is actually radtastic (despite copious amounts of stress, procrastination, and caffeine).

New York (fun) Times

A sampling of Thanksgiving, in which my senses are assaulted, a friend's family welcomes, feeds, and houses some Obies, and I despise buses.

A Recipe for Registration

Two parts planning, one part flexibility, five zillion parts luck.

Tumbling Club

The Brazilian jujitsu people call it ninja training. This is the path that led me to it.

Maximum Silliness Achieved

The week sprinted by like Usain Bolt riding a sugar high.

It's a Beautiful Day in the Roommatehood

My satisfaction with the person I'd be living with for the next year wasn't a lucky fluke, it was widespread - possibly even universal.

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