Growing up, my parents were both educators; my mom taught me about specificity, and my dad taught me about metaphor. And so I came to Middlebury as a Feb* in 2001 with the sneaking suspicion that I would be an English major. I love language. I love story-telling. In four years, I read my way through a myriad of modern novels, ancient epic poems, and celebrity gossip magazines.

My love for words pushed me toward the creative writing department, and the Bread Loaf Writers' Conference. It also made me look long and hard at issues of academic integrity; I served on the school's Academic Judicial Board each of my four years, hearing cases and pondering the potentialities of honor codes. What made all of my experiences at Middlebury more rewarding was the simple fact that everyone seemed to be passionate about their interests and, in turn, passionate about the interests of others.

So take note, it's true: At Middlebury you really might live next door to the finest Swiss oboe player under the sun, who is also the jump-rope champion of the world and makes paper in her spare time out of recycled bark … but, in all likelihood, you won't ever hear her swankily singing her own praises in your ear at a party.

In other words, I think one of the most noteworthy, but subtle, things about Middlebury is its combination of curiosity and humility. You encounter such intense academic, artistic, and athletic talent every day–but you also encounter the oh-so-classy, humble manner in which individuals make their private talents public. Here, we want to know what other people are doing, and we're excited for them that they're doing it. We ask questions. We find commonalities, and we're made better by each other's different talents.

* Febs, or February first-years, are students who begin their Middlebury careers with the spring semester.