I came to Columbia largely sheltered from the real world, with little experience other than sitting on a stoop with my friends or immersing myself in books. As a freshman, I was assigned to a tiny room in Hartley Hall -- top bunk -- with a junior, a man who was a veteran and had spent his first two years at an "all-girls" college in Virginia. He worked nights at the NY Times and returned about 3 a.m. with two beers, one of which I was required to drink to "be sociable." Though initially scared out of my mind, the stories that he shared with me (few repeatable in polite company), his Rabelasian view of life and his incredible energy had me looking forward to our early morning ritual.

Combining this introduction to life in the big city with the early evening discussions of CC and Humanities with new-found friends in the dorms made me feel as though I had emerged from a cocoon. I even started to pay attention to the fact that Barnard was across the street. A wonderful beginning to college.