That I even think of myself right now “here” at Middlebury underscores how Middlebury is more than just a beautiful campus and cozy dorm room looking out at the Green Mountains in Vermont or even a discrete time period of a time. At this moment, I am in Hangzhou, China, spending my winter and spring terms at the C.V. Starr-Middlebury School in China. Though thousands of miles from Middlebury, Vermont, I feel no less a part of the Middlebury campus, and no less close to my friends spread over the globe, much the same way Midd alums are. No doubt being away from Vermont makes me especially appreciative of how for alumni the Middlebury experience can stay with you long after graduation.

Being here in Hangzhou is also a ready reminder of the tremendous influence Middlebury has already had on my life, after only two and one half years. I came to Middlebury with no knowledge of the language of Chinese. Now, I am travelling around China completely conversant in Mandarin and enjoying each and every day of my time here. This summer, I hope to work at the Olympics but also recently received a Midd grant to do environmental research during the summer here for the Natural Resources Defense Council, which will use both my Mandarin and the knowledge I gained this past fall of geographic information systems (GIS) in my geography class (tough, but amazing!). Yes, the classes at Middlebury are demanding (Chinese summer school was brutal!), but the returns are spectacular.

While studying abroad, I’ve also come to appreciate even better the uniqueness of the academic and social environment that Midd provides. Where else do you find undergraduates with limitless opportunities to study with world-famous academics? Where else do you regularly witness and participate in legitimate debates occurring between professors and students, with both sides fairly questioning each other’s reasoning? Certainly not here in China, where to question a teacher on a matter of principle is not just unruly, but, for some, may be the end of an academic career.

Middlebury is a wonderfully different and in ways that I am only now beginning to appreciate. It is the kind of place where, as a first-year, a tenured professor of 25 years came to my dorm to make sure I was alright after I had missed class that day (and thankfully this student was actually in his dorm room sick!). It is the kind of place where I can for the first time belong to a rock band that brings together students of completely different backgrounds and aspirations, but who share a common love of creating music together late at night when the studying is over. And it is the kind of place where, again as first-years, a group of students can spontaneously create a new campus sport (Quidditch) that has since spread throughout the campus and even reached other schools, allowing for Midd to hose the first “World Cup” of Quidditch this past fall (my roommate, a cross-country runner, serves as “the Snitch”).

Midd is the kind of place that can and does change lives, as it already has my own. And, I expect, is the kind of place that continues to influence the lives of a lot of amazing alumni long after graduate.

That’s special.

As a history major, I was struck by the power of oral history—studying history through firsthand, oral accounts of the events—and of the importance of geography in shaping how a community deals with its history. In my opinion, the two are inextricably linked. If a story is told well, the retelling feels as vivid for listener as the experience was for the storyteller. This usually involves giving the listener a sense of place, such as in a city, or even in a specific building. It is important to know how the surroundings looked and felt to the person in that moment.

We heard firsthand about the atrocities committed in these cities. I could not help but think about the legacy of the places we were seeing. Regardless of the area’s appearance today, the collective memory came alive with one glance at an abandoned building in disrepair or at a renovation project that appeared to wipe away the past. Even for us, places became important reminders of the stories we heard. How did victims, perpetrators, and observers of twentieth century crimes view these sites, especially when they clearly brought the past back to life? From an academic standpoint, how much significance do we and should we assign to the idea of place in history?

Our group discussed these issues and experiences at meals, in our hotel rooms, on bus trips and walking tours, even while waiting for our luggage in any number of airports. We never came to any conclusions, nor was that a goal. Our conversations often ended with questions, not answers. Each one of us brought different backgrounds to the table, and our perceptions of what we saw were often radically different.

Upon returning to Middlebury, we concluded our month-long study with presentations on topics of our choosing. The idea of place was extremely important in my own description of our trip abroad. In other reflections, some of my classmates stressed the composure of those whom we had met. Collectively, we had developed a body of different stories of stories and places—quite a souvenir! Many of us often used the same anecdotes in discussion to raise different points about the central theme of collective history. How does a community interpret and deal with its own history? How should this history shape its future?

While the experience of being abroad was special in its own right, I am extremely grateful to have had the opportunity to travel with a group from Middlebury. My professors and peers challenged me personally and intellectually in ways I might not have experienced otherwise. I am hopeful that we will continue this dialogue well into the spring, encouraging each other to examine our attitudes and perceptions of the trip and of the nature of history in general. It will be interesting to see how our discussions take shape with time and space from our trip.