Dear Bowdoin College, Over the past few weeks, a fruitful controversy erupted surrounding my use of the word "pagan" to describe cultural currents I saw streaming through elements of Bowdoin's GLBTQ community. Through hours of conversation with professors, discussion with fellow students, and book browsing in the library, I came to see that there is a lively debate about the meaning of the word "pagan." So I should clarify—when I wrote it, I had just read the provocative 1994 essay, "A Pagan Theory of Sexuality" by Camille Paglia, who transfigures and glorifies paganism invoking the word as shorthand for our "Greco-Roman" inheritance as compared with the more traditional inheritance from what she calls the "Judeo-Christian moral tradition." In any case, after these discussions, and after Ivies weekend, it is clear to me I was in the wrong.

Elections for Bowdoin Student Government begin today and you need to decide if, and how, you are going to vote. But, in order for you to believe that voting is a worthwhile use of your time, you need to understand why, or if, BSG matters. This is exactly what I was wondering as I walked around campus this week taking note of the hundreds of posters plastered on every wall—specifically, I asked, "What exactly is BSG for?"

Dear visiting students, Congratulations on your admission to Bowdoin College. The task of the admissions office here is not an easy one—many of the students who apply can handle the course load at the college and would be great contributors to the community, but admissions saw something special in you, and we want you to come here.

A family member tiptoes downstairs for a midnight snack. My mother, a former aerobics instructor, awakes to the creaking of the floor, disturbed that these unhealthy habits exist. She yearns to see her family healthy and works hard to keep us that way: she encourages us to stick with sports, and she sets a good example.

What is the one thing our environmentalism, romance with urban rap music, and emphasis on study abroad hold in common? I think it is a disdain for suburban life. I can count on one hand the students I've met here favorably inclined towards these post-war dwelling spaces, yet more than half the students at Bowdoin call one of them "home." What gives?

What if, after fumbling the first few lines of the inauguration oath, Justice Roberts or President Obama had blurted, "Awk-wuuuurd!" Surely, an already uncomfortable situation would be rendered far more embarrassing for the nation and it would have humiliated both of them. Given that the pronouncement of "awkward" almost always intensifies the discomfort in an interaction, why does our generation remain addicted to this term?