Granted, $53,420 is a lot to pay for a year anywhere. On my current diet of ramen, coffee, and dried mangoes, that much bank could last me a long, LONG time. Sometimes (rarely… but sometimes) a part of me wants to walk into the student financial services office and ask if it would be possible to trade in my acquired education and skill-set for the comprehensive fee. Given the current state of the economy, these brief musings have actually transformed into fully developed hypotheticals. What if it were possible? What would the process be like? Would I actually be entitled to 50K a year?

The conclusion: possibly. Imagining the process is quite standard. Walk in to the lab, sign a consent form (somehow) approved by the IRB, put on the tech-savvy helmet that connects to your neurons, and watch as the numbers on the dollar sign meter increase as knowledge is drained from your cranium. Happy Halloween.

Yet imagining the rate of compensation is much more fascinating. I’m sure that the education and skill-set I gained at Middlebury adds up to above $200,000. After all, learning happens both inside the classroom and out. The wealth of experience here isn’t quantifiable. Yes, it’s true (and I believe it too). But let’s assume that our knowledge was only worth the yearly comprehensive fee, would it still be equitable to take the 50K? The answer I consistently arrive at is (un)fortunately, no. Why? Well, because Middlebury doles out a lot of $$ to students through a variety of processes in a variety of sectors.

So how to get the muhni? The simple answer is work. There are significant work opportunities both on and off campus. I currently work as a Senior Fellow in the Admissions Office (hence this blog post), a First Year Mentor and Peer Writing Tutor for the CTLR, and as an Overseas Student Correspondent for the South Korean Government (Yes! While at Middlebury!). I also worked as a research assistant to two faculty members – one during the academic year and one during my summer when I was back at home in South Korea. Often times the work I’m engaged in is something I would do just for the experience; getting paid is just a bonus. Moreover, finding these opportunities isn’t difficult: (http://www.middlebury.edu/offices/business/seo). The hours add up, and it’s nice to see a fat check in your mailbox every two weeks.

But there are alternate (perhaps, less-known) ways of taking back your tuition. Middlebury has funding for almost everything – provided you look hard enough. My personal favorite is research grants. Last summer, I received a $4000 research grant to conduct my senior thesis research in Seoul. It covered travel, accommodation, food, and research expenses. I also received funding to attend an academic conference in Las Vegas to present some of my original work. In addition to these opportunities, Middlebury has money for starting community initiatives, founding student organizations, and even funding to offset the cost of unpaid summer/winter internships.

There is money if you look. Taking back some of your tuition doesn’t have to be as drastic as the Halloween cranium drain. It’s nice to take a break from the work and look for people/ways that will give you money to do something you’re interested in. More often than not, you’ll find one. All right, back to the search: go/fellowships. If only I could convince one of the departments to hire me on a postbacc…

In the summer of 2008, before I entered Middlebury College as a first-year student, I remember receiving an e-mail from Middlebury College asking me to sign up for a first year seminar. I perused through the catalog, wondering if a Lord of the Ring’s seminar would interest me as much as Ecological History of Vermont. As I am reaching towards the end of the catalog, I came across with this fascinating title: Voices Along the Way. The first impression was storytelling, creative writing, and academic research.  The seminar designed for international students is an introduction to contemporary American culture via literature and film. I decided this was the perfect class for me to learn about American literature and culture.

Three months later, the first day of Voices Along the Way, I sat on a comfy red couch surrounded by fourteen other first-year students in Coltrane Lounge, Adirondack House. After a brief introduction from Professor Skubikowski, we were asked to introduce ourselves by using a map in the room and pinpointing our journey across the world, starting from where we were born all the way to our present location at Middlebury, Vermont. All of the sudden, I froze with my heart beating fast in my throat and I asked myself, “Is this a seminar designed for international students? How distracted were you to NOT read that specific detail in the course catalog? Now what excuse will I come up with and say that I am not an international student?”

One ny one, my peers stood up in front of the class and elaborated on their international journey from across the world to Middlebury, Vermont. Some came from Europe and traveled to Asia. Others had rigorous journeys, like coming from Africa, studying Europe, and traveling to South America to come to Middlebury, Vermont. I had no story. I was born and bred in New York City. End of story.

Professor Skubikowski looked at me with a smile on her face and asked me introduce myself to the class. I decided to tell them the truth. I started by saying that I was born in New York City and grew up there ALL my life, but I would like to start my journey  in a small country in South America, Ecuador. I told them about my ancestors, how they had founded a village named Datas and had lived there till my Great-grandparents moved to the nearest city, Guayaquil in the 1950s. I told them that my ancestors have a rich history because storytelling was an important element in my family. We have passed down stories from generation to generation, learning that we were part of the nowaday “Inca Empire”, that our male ancestors came from Cordoba, Spain, that our African great (x6) grandmother was a runaway slave from La Sierra, that my mother’s paternal great grandparents came from Japan in the 1900s, and that I should be proud I come from the four courners of the world.

And at that instant, I remember why I signed up for this class: Because I also wanted to learn about my American culture and what does it mean to be an American citizen from the international and domestic perspective. To this day, I never regretted the decision. This was a great start in my college career as a storyteller and writer.

Say you head to the dining hall for lunch one afternoon with a group of friends. You grab your food, your drink, a few napkins (maybe you’re a messy eater–that’s OK), and then meet with your friends again to grab a table.

If you are at Middlebury, and you happen to be at either Ross or Proctor dining halls, you head to one of the long tables, and that is that. You sit across from your friends, and it doesn’t make much of a difference who might be in the general vicinity. Barring a neighbor smelling exceptionally funky, where you actually sit probably won’t matter.

If you go to Atwater dining hall, on the other hand, things are going to be trickier. Atwater only has round tables.

Let’s get back to our scenario. Say you go to lunch around mid-day, things are pretty crowded, and there isn’t a pristine, unoccupied table available. You and your friends are left with two options. If the weather is nice, you can head outside and find a place to sit down. If it’s not, it’s either take a seat on the floor or take the proverbial plunge.

In other words, the odds dictate that between the months of November and March, you are going to have to join a group of relative strangers for lunch. Better/Worse yet, due to the magical nature of circles, your most obvious conversation partner probably won’t be one of your friends.

Long preface, here’s the point: Middlebury is the kind of place where sitting at that table is not only OK but encouraged. Further, Middlebury is the kind of place where that table ends up sharing a conversation. It would be awkward, but doable, to sit down and not make eye contact with any of the strangers sitting nearby. It would be awkward, but doable, to speak to only your friends in hushed tones for the course of the meal.

Instead, the scene you will find at Atwater on any given afternoon is not unlike the one you might expect during freshmen orientation. Students are shaking hands, introducing themselves, and running through the standard introductory conversation. What’s your name? Where are you from? What are you studying? From there, the discussion can take any number of turns.

A common denominator at Middlebury is curiosity. Of course, intellectual curiosity, but social curiosity as well. I met Matt from Little Rock yesterday. He’s a sophomore and majoring in economics. He played club soccer throughout high school, so we spent most of lunch comparing notes on clubs we knew throughout the Southeast.

A situation unique to Middlebury? I certainly hope not. But the takeaway message here is fairly clear: round table or long table, you’re in for a pleasant lunch.