#so 2022 when i came out and moved colleges i reached out more i tried to hang out

[basilibino]

The new anti recovery rhetoric is that "people who make posts about dealing with depression/anxiety are talking about the emotion, not the disorder" and I'm here to say as someone with both disorders that that position is just not true.

Rag on getting your body moving and not holing up in ur room with instant meals all you want, no one can make you do anything for ur mental health that u aren't ready and willing to do, but it's frankly nonsensical to act like managing a depressed or anxious mood wouldnt translate to changing the affects of a mood disorder.

Yeah, I will always be anxious and depressed, but you know what worsens those spirals consistently? Isolation. Holing myself up in my room and not going anywhere. Not reaching out to ppl. Not eating food anywhere but my car or my bedroom.

Flipside--you know what, while never getting rid of my anxiety and depression, helps me function daily and maintain relationships? Getting out of my house. Going to the gym and not talking to a damn soul but moving my body. Talking with my friends and acquaintances even if I'm scared they don't want to, even when that will usually cause an immediate spike in anxiety, bc 99.9% of the time that's my own brain assuming the worst.

And guess what—I still have bad days! I still have days where I bedrot. My executive dysfunction has actually never been worse than rn. Sometimes my social anxiety is so severe that trying to socialize to counteract will only make it worse.

I live with these mood disorders every day, on top of general emotional dysregulation; exercise and eating habits will not make them go away, it's true. But it helps manage the symptoms. Which is what ppl are talking about when they make posts abt helping depression and anxiety. And that's why tweet threads like this

Are just the same "we can't all be neurotypical, Karen" posts as 2014.

Replier isn't ready to consistently move themselves out of bed yet, and that's ok!! It's a hallmark of being depressed for a reason!

But

they themselves acknowledge that when they can get out and move, it does help!

And maybe it's just the "spent 2 years in a group DBT setting for suicidal teens" in me speaking but I think they're also unintentionally identifying the biggest thing that hinders recovery—shame for our bad days; shame for relapses—shame. Sometimes you'll wake up and getting out of bed feels insurmountable. You wanted to get out and hit the sidewalk this morning before it got too hot, or before the rain came in and brought in a week long cold front, and you can't go to the gym bc you can't afford a membership bc you don't have a job, but this morning everything feels so heavy that you just can't bring yourself to do it. Maybe later in the afternoon you feel like you can get up and out, but now you feel like you've ruined the day for yourself bc you can't get that walk in. So you stay in bed. And then maybe the next day you get up and it's better. You're feeling a bit more energetic than the day before, even without the possibility of a walk! ...until you remember that party this afternoon that you weren't too big on going to, but your best friends set it up for a small group of you all to hang out. You still want to see your friends, but you'd offered to make brownies; which wouldn't be too bad, just mix the egg and water to the box powder and shove it in the oven for a bit, except for one thing—you don't have enough time to get presentable *and* make brownies this morning if you want to be on time. heaven knows you can't be late, they'll all be so annoyed, and you definitely can't show up brownie-less. Then you remember that you did have plans for yesterday beyond the walk—you were going to make the brownies the night before so they'd be ready for this! You can't believe you sabotaged yourself this bad yesterday.

Overwhelmed with the stress of not only showering, cleaning your teeth, and finding the cleanest clothes you have, but also with the dilemma of brownies to be made, without even getting into the drive over to your friends' house, and the realization that maybe you wouldn't have been so overwhelmed if you had just gotten out of bed yesterday when you had the energy; the sudden sureness that you are self sabotaging without even realizing it until its too late....

You finally reach out to your friends.

With an apology that you won't be able to make it today after all. You sit on the couch and hate yourself.

That extremely detailed ramble drawing from various instances in my own life? The hypothetical you is being held back, yes by their depressive tendencies, but also by the way their shame feeds right back into it. So ashamed of missing their walk window, that they stay in bed. So ashamed of staying in bed even when they could have mustered the energy to go to the kitchen and remember to bake brownies, that they can't even think about being late or going without brownies, so they stay home. So busy hating themself that they don't recognize that despite it all, they made it out of their room today.

Part of what makes anxiety and depression such hard disorders to manage is that they are your outlook on the world, and when you're drowning in them it feels impossible to stop and ask yourself "why would my friends care more about brownies than getting me out of the house for the first time in a month" (which can feel self-invalidating to ask, or too harsh for social anxiety feels, i fully acknowledge that) or, "why do brownies matter more than seeing my friends"

And we get so used to sitting in our shame, that managing the shame becomes its own step in symptom management that personally I never heard addressed outside of DBT group. But to make lifestyle changes, you need to be consistent. And building consistency is hard, and will never be 100% perfect. But if you want to build consistency, then you have to be in a place where bad days and stumbles and bedrot days can happen, be accepted, and then start the next day determined to try. And that's hard when you're expecting to make a sudden about face into a new lifestyle and then feel better. You'll set goals too high, you'll miss them, you'll restart the shame spiral.

And I get that. I feel like part of "recovery" from mood disorders includes, unfortunately, hitting that rock bottom. Bc you can't start climbing out until you are certain it's the best choice you can make for yourself.

But it still annoys me that ppl are now also going after the "unfortunately that advice is true" ppl, bc now they're not just dismissing the advice, they're invalidating the ppl who are very clearly telegraphic that they are in this chronic struggle with you. Would someone who only experiences occasional episodes of mild depression or anxiety open with the vibes of "unfortunately, that advice we all had crammed down our throats until we were sick of it actually does help"? Or would that be coming from someone who has had to experience the ego death of making a gradual lifestyle change and noticing improvement in their symptoms.

[yellowko]

dear renjun,

its been more than a year na rin pala nung huli kong letter. I just want to say........... I think i have my atlas na. hehe r u surprised?! cuz i am HAHAHAHA so backstory muna.... sa tip din sya nag shs but we didnt know each other. he was courting someone and i was on a long term relationship that time. we both have different lives before, invisible string? i think so too. DELULU YARN HAHAHAHA we only began to know each other nung college na, and through online nalang. he dmed me saying na tagal na daw nya gusto mag hi and the rest was history. jk, dami nangyare before kami dumating sa point na to. 2020 we talked and he confessed but i rejected him kasi honestly, di ko sya bet nun. My first impression for him was just a typical guy, medyo mayabang, and immature. but part of me kinda admit na kaya mejo harsh ung first impression ko sakanya because i was comparing him to the guy i liked that time and trying to move on from. Then 2021 came, i was surprised na he still tries to talk to me from time to time and he's okay with us being friends. dahil din dun medyo natuwa ako sakanya and kinda got infatuated with him? ang mali ko lang, nung umamin sya ulit, nadala lang ako and i said na gusto ko rin sya. which ahxhshxh i immediately regret kasi i was still getting to know my feelings for him plus the fact na im still vvv scared sa commitment and doesnt see myself getting in one anytime soon djcndj tas biglang ganun and i felt na ang bilis ng mga nangyayare kasi nilalandi na nya ko (which is understandable naman sa part nya kasi syempre sabi ko gusto ko rin sya e) and all djcndjc biglang gusto ko umatras. which wasss such a dick move, lalo na unti unti ko sya nun ginoghost. and in result, 2022 syempre he got hurt and he got mad. i understand his anger but he said hurtful things plus the fact that i wasnt supposed to see that.... so of course, i got mad na he got mad. djcjdjd so after we "talked", i kinda thought that that was it. tapos na. end of an era. i remembered nalungkot din naman ako nun. but he reached out again, i was surprised but i was still angry. we met and i can see that he was trying so hard to make it up to me and we talked about the issue again. he kept saying sorry and he knew his faults. i can see his efforts naman so we became okay again but i was still uneasy with him so i still didnt gave him a chance that year. We stayed friends but whenever i feel like he'll overstep a boundary, na mag eeffort sya sakin ng more than a friend, pinapatigil ko na sya agad. I was harsh, but he stayed. then 2023 came, he tried moving on and thats when it hit me like a truck HAHHAHAHXHSHA namiss ko sya and hindi ako sanay na hindi nya ko tinatry kausapin. So when he reached out to me again (it turns out di nya raw kaya mag move on but i didnt know that) nag effort na ko kausapin sya and makipag kita. However, this year i also met the lowest point of my life for which he stayed and comforted me. i think thats what convinced me to really gave him a chance. Binabalewala ko nanaman sya that time but never sya gumanti or nagalit. He would still checked up on me and would ask me out on dates even if sobrang hirap ko ayain. and months later, here we are. He's still the maeffort guy i know. And he's still very muchhhhh down bad to me. HAHAHAHAHA i thank God he didnt gave up on me and i wish i get to give back to him all the efforts and patience he has given me ever. He's very sweet, understanding, caring, funny, and everything na i couldnt ask for more. Ramdam na ramdam ko na minamahal ako. Sobrang swerte ko sakanya. He's my atlas, renjun. Matagal ko na pala nahanap, but it took time before we got it right. -110823

[moonhoures]

easy on you

pairing: yeonjun (txt) + reader (fem.)

genre: non-idol!au, smut [ nsfw | mdni ]

warnings: brat!reader, brat tamer!yeonjun, soft dom!yeonjun, very mild choking, dry humping, established relationship, fingering, nipple play, overstimulation, strip jenga, unprotected sex, petnames “baby” “babe” and “good girl” for reader

word count: ~3.1K

posted: april 11, 2022

You hate games. They’re for children. At least, that’s the excuse you gave to Yeonjun when he asked you to play Scrabble with him during a power outage. The two of you had fortunately found a lamp that lit up enough of the living room of your apartment, so you camped in there and tried to find something to keep you two busy.

“Come on, babe, I’m bored. Just play one game with me,” your boyfriend spoke with a whiny tone, attempting to win you over with puppy dog eyes, “I’ll even let you pick.”

You heaved a sigh and sunk further into the couch cushion, “Jun, I’m really not in the mood.”

“Please, babe, I’m going to lose my mind,” he took your hand in his, gripping it in desperation. It was almost laughable, “What if we did a game that wasn’t childish?”

“Like what?” you peered up at him with curious eyes, and suddenly you regretted asking. Because the look in his eyes told you his brain was up to no good.

“Like a strip game.”

“I have never heard a more college boy sentence come out of your mouth before,” you rolled your eyes as you looked back down at your lap where your hands twisted the strings on your pajama shorts.

“You’re just refusing because you know you’ll lose,” he smirked, “It’s okay. I can go easy on you, if you want.”

Prick. That’s what you called him in your head, because he knew you too well. He knew you were competitive; more importantly, he knew you didn’t like being patronized. Honestly, the two of you avoided playing games together because the both of you were too competitive, and games always ended in an argument or silent treatment from one of you being a sore loser. But none of that mattered now. You just wanted to make him eat his words.

Several minutes later, you were sitting next to him on the floor, the coffee table in front of you. You decided on Jenga as your game of choice, so you helped him stack up all the wooden blocks. Then, the game was on.

The first round was unusually quiet, full of concentrated stares as you calculated the best pieces to remove from the tower. You won, but Yeonjun made sure to win the second round. Your socks and his shirt were removed. He was going easy on you the first round to get you excited, but now he was in it to win. You played three more rounds, tensions growing with each one. Yeonjun won the third round only to be beat by you for the next two. Your shirt came off, and his pants and socks were the next to go. Luck didn’t look to be in his favor for this round.

“Any day now,” you mocked him, noting that two minutes had passed since you took your turn. He waved at you dismissively, focusing on the tower in front of him. It looked like it could collapse from one breath, so he needed to pick the perfect piece or else he would lose, “Come on, you’re taking too long.”

“Shut it,” he spoke through gritted teeth. You hid a smirk as you watched him reach forward and pick a block from the top. His nimble fingers grasped it and paused. He moved so cautiously, like a character in a movie during a slow motion scene. But his effort proved to be fruitless as the tower swayed and then fell on the tabletop, sending numerous blocks over the edge onto the floor. He closed his eyes for a moment to process his defeat while you smiled victoriously.

“Loser.”

“_______,” Yeonjun’s tone was a warning in itself, but you loved to push his buttons, so you continued.

“Awh, Junnie,” you teased with a smile stuck on your lips, “Nobody likes a sore loser. It’s okay, maybe you’ll win another game someday. In the meantime, let’s pick these up.”

You started to gather up the blocks in your hands, piling them up at the center of the table when you noticed how quiet Yeonjun got. The question of ‘what’s wrong?’ was about to slip from your lips when he suddenly caught your wrist in his grasp, keeping you from moving.

Your eyes met his as he said, “You’re right. Let’s play a different game.”

The darkness in his eyes, though possibly a trick of the light, didn’t go unnoticed by you. He had an ulterior motive, “Like what?“

“Like . . . one with our clothes off. I’m good at those. Plus, we’re already halfway there.”

As he spoke, his hand slid down your arm to your thigh, testing the waters that was your comfort. But again, he knew you too well. He knew exactly what to say and do to have you where he wanted you. He knew how weak you were for his caresses and his smoldering stare. He knew how much you loved being his little toy. And he knew you secretly loved games.

“Okay.”

That was all he needed to get you on the couch, clothes off and lips tangled. He sat in only his boxers, with you straddling his lap in your shorts. Your lips moaned against his in the messy make out session you were wrapped up in. You didn’t even realize you were grinding your clothed core against his until his hands were holding onto your hips tight enough to make you stop. Yeonjun pulled away from your lips with furrowed brows.

“Quit moving, baby.”

“But it feels good,” you pouted, arms circling around his shoulders. A tiny groan of pleasure escaped your lips as you dragged your center over his bulge again. Your boyfriend’s lower lip was pulled between his teeth and his eyelids flickered shut. He took a deep breath, then looked up at you with a stern glint in his eyes. His hands gripped your hips with more strength, forcing you to a halt. You humphed in disappointment.

“Don’t be a brat, ________.”

“Or what, Jun?”

The lamp light casted shadows on his face, making the sinister look in his eyes even more intimidating. It caused a shiver to run down your spine. He wet his full lips before displaying a small, mischievous smirk. His hands ran up from your waist to your bra, effortlessly unhooking it. It fell off of you with ease, and was forgotten once he tossed it aside.

“I’ll fuck the brat out of you,” he said nonchalantly before leaning forward and taking one of your nipples in his mouth. His eyes stayed trained on yours as his tongue laved over your sensitive skin. His words were mumbled against your chest, “You want that?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, eyelids fluttering as you subconsciously ground your hips on his again.

“Then let’s get these off.”

Yeonjun’s hands were swift in taking off his boxers while you stripped off your shorts and panties. He helped you back onto his lap, letting your bare pussy hover over his hardening length. You were getting desperate and practically humping him. He found it adorable how needy he made you, smiling up at you while you pathetically whimpered for more.

He moved one hand up to your neck, caressing you as he pulled you to him. Your breasts pressed against his naked chest while your lips met in a hot mess of tongues and horny purring. His teeth tugged lightly on your lip before he moved down to kiss your neck.

“Yeonjun,” you moaned, trying to get his attention. He merely hummed, continuing to leave wet kisses along your heated skin, “I need you.”

“You got me, baby.”

You could feel his teasing smirk tickling your collarbone.

“You know what I mean,” you whined. Your hands rested on his chest, feeling his pumping heart underneath his muscles. They flexed under your touch, then they vibrated as a low chuckle erupted from him. The next whine that left your mouth was cut short by a moan as you felt the pads of his fingertips massaging your inner labia. He moved to your clit, relishing in the needy noises you made for him. You bucked up against his fingers, shivering when he rubbed the sensitive button just right, “Fuck.”

“Does it feel good, baby?”

“Yeah,” you spoke through an unstable breath, feeling yourself getting wetter by the second. Yeonjun could feel it too, your arousal slicking the tips of his fingers as he rubbed them over your slit. You were ready. So, he watched your expressions change intently as he sunk two fingers into your hole. Your lips parted in a gasp, and next thing you knew, you were rocking your hips with the calculated movements of his fingers as they thrusted in and out of you.

“You look gorgeous fucking my fingers, baby.”

“Bet I’ll look even prettier when I cum on them,” you tried to nonchalantly remark, but your voice wavered with the shiver that ran down your back. His fingers were massaging your walls so slowly, yet meticulously, that you were almost certain you could cum at any second.

“Is that right? You’re close already?” he asked, and like an idiot, you were oblivious to the sly tone of his voice.

“Mhm,” you hummed and nodded, humping his fingers brainlessly. Within seconds you went from feeling like a buzz of electricity to a fizzling-out soda. You whined and shifted your hips in a desperate, pathetic attempt for sympathy as Yeonjun withdrew his fingers from your center.

You looked down to see him smirking up at you deviously as he stuck his essence-coated digits between his lips. A pit of annoyance bubbled in your chest as you groaned, “What was that for?”

“For being a brat,” he answered matter-of-factly, “Doesn’t feel good when you don’t get your way, huh?”

“Oh, bite me,” you scoffed, subconsciously grinding your soaked core against his thigh. He visibly swallowed before he effortlessly maneuvered you onto your back on the couch cushions. He laid between your hips, taking his turn to grind his bulge against your pussy. The glint of lust in your eye offset the angry jut of your lip.

“Now . . . are you gonna quit being a brat, or should I train you to be a good girl for me again?” he asked, the corners of his lips twitching into a smile when his hips rolled against yours and caused you to whimper.

“I-,” you were too busy thinking about how much better his dick would feel than his fingers did to really process what he was asking of you.

Yeonjun scoffed at your seemingly dumbfounded state, “What’s wrong? Can’t think straight until you get some dick? Is that it?”

You didn’t even respond; truthfully, you didn’t know what to say. So, you let your actions speak for you. Your legs propped up on the sides of his hips, and your hands pawed at his chest. You turned your head slightly to press a kiss on his forearm that was near your head, securing his body above yours.

“If you want me to fuck you, you have to ask, _________. Nicely.”

At this point, you were so desperate for him, that you would do whatever he asked of you, “Jun, please fuck me.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiled before melding his lips with yours in a searing kiss. He focused on making out with you and delicately fondling your exposed breasts. Once he left a mark (or two) on your supple skin, he decided it was as good a time as any to take off his underwear,

“Ready?”

Your head shook fervently in a nod, and a wanton moan left your mouth as he reached between you to slip his hard cock between your waiting folds. Your lower back arched off the couch while he sunk further and further inside of you, reaching the places that you couldn’t reach by yourself. He drew the most pornographic sounds out of you with his slow, rhythmic thrusts.

“S-so good,” you mumbled against his neck, lips lazily pressing kisses to it. Despite how nice they felt, he was determined to stay stern with you.

“Speak up, baby.”

“It feels good, Yeonjun. So good,” your words released in a drawn out whine, and then you were suddenly left gasping as his hips picked up speed. Your chest was heaving from the deep breaths you couldn’t contain. The feeling of your lower abdomen tensing up made you realize that you were closer to cumming than you thought you were. Yeonjun felt your warm walls tightening around him every few seconds, so he knew now was the time to conceive his plan.

His hand wrapped under your left thigh and pulled it up higher on his waist to allow him more room and a better angle to fuck you in. Your fingernails dug into his biceps as your lips and teeth clashed with his messily. A melody made up of yours and his noises filled the dimly-lit room, and your brain felt like mush when he grunted and pumped into you a little harder.

“I want you to cum for me, babe, can you?” he asked, his hand reaching up to caress your cheek. He pressed a deceivingly sweet kiss to your forehead as you nodded. Before he could even correct you, you were already quick to do it yourself.

“Yes! Yes, I’m close,” you spoke through uneven breaths that only got heavier the faster he moved. He sat back on his calves and got a good grip on your thighs, holding them in place as he chased his orgasm along with yours. Both of them were getting closer and closer, and with only seconds between them, you both came. His eyes screwed shut as he let out a groan of your name and his body stuttered between your legs. Goosebumps were left on your skin in the wake of his fingertips.

“Fuck,” you moaned as you clenched and creamed on his cock, your legs locking around his waist. He let out a short, breathy laugh at your expense, admiring your naivety for a moment longer before he went into action.

Just as you were coming down and recovering from your orgasm, you were slightly confused when Yeonjun continued to slowly—and seemingly deliberately—thrust into you. At first, you assumed he was just helping you through your high, but it quickly became obvious that he had ulterior motives. Those motives were apparent when he brought his thumb up to his mouth and let some of his saliva drip onto the pad of it.

“Jun- I’m done,” you panted, pulling yourself up onto your elbows. Everything clicked as you watched his hand moved down to your pussy where his dick relentlessly moved in and out of you. You mumbled out some small, pathetic ‘no. no. no’s, but you were left a victim to Yeonjun’s punishment as he started to rub small circles over your clit. Your hips sunk down into the cushions in an attempt to get away from his touch, but his hips chased yours. A ragged breath escaped you as his cock plunged back into you and the circles on your sensitive nub got faster.

“Jun,” you whined pitifully.

“What, baby?”

“I’m sensitive,” you squirmed again, legs twitching and shifting around him. His free hand pinned one of your thighs down as the other continued to torture you, “Please!”

“If you want me to stop you need to use your words, _______. You remember the word.”

You did. You had settled on a safeword early in your relationship with him, and you were fortunate enough to not have to use it often. It was rare that you were in a position like this, being overstimulated to the point of feeling like your body was on fire. As crazy as it made you feel, you had to admit you liked it.

“You heard me?” he asked, easing up just a little on you to ensure he wasn’t making you uncomfortable.

“Y-yes,” you nodded, swallowing your nerves.

“Okay. You’re a good girl, _______. You can take one more for me,” he assured you, wetting his lips as your eyes fluttered.

Your pussy felt like it was starting to ache; there was that familiar, tight sensation quickly beginning to form in your womb. Incoherent babbling mixed with a plethora of moans and whines was all that came out of you as you barreled towards a second, more intense orgasm. Yeonjun stilled his hips while he was seated deep inside of you, but kept his thumb moving in the same rhythm he began with.

“Jun. Ah, fuck,” your voice turned into a choked sob and tears sprung at the corners of your eyes as you came. You felt your entire body tense up, and every muscle in your body was screaming for it to end. Your hands flew from Yeonjun’s shoulders to your center, clawing at his wrist until he graciously pulled off of you.

“Shh,” he cooed gently, rubbing your thigh soothingly, “I know, baby, it’s over. You did so well for me. I’m proud of you.“

“I’m sorry I was a brat,” you mumbled, eyes closed as you laid there helplessly, catching your breath. Yeonjun could feel himself starting to drip with sweat from the sex and also the lack of an A/C. He smiled sweetly at you, leaning down to kiss you with a sense of tenderness.

“I don’t know if I believe you, but I’ll forgive you this time. Next time I won’t go so easy on you, alright?” he half-joked when his lips pulled away from yours.

“Yeah? I guess I’ll have to go easy on you next time we play Jenga then.”

“I think I’m over playing games,” he shrugged, pulling you up in a sitting position so he could hold your face in his hands. His eyes looked warm, but they held something else deep inside of them.

“Because you suck at them?” you grinned, reveling in the sight of his jaw tensing. You didn’t even notice his hand moving from your cheek to your neck until he was applying the slightest bit of pressure to it, making you let out a squeak of surprise.

“Watch it, _______. I wouldn’t be talking like that if I was as sensitive as you are.”

And without warning, he lightly slapped his fingertips against your folds, making you gasp. He was right; your pussy was still thrumming from the overstimulation it got. There was no way you could handle another round, at least not so soon.

When you didn’t respond with your usual snarky comment, he chuckled lowly, “That’s what I thought.”

taglist: @bluejin0812 @drunkjaked @boba-beom @heeyunkist @day6andetcetera @wakeyjaykey @aminatalks @bruh-changbin @fallinforgyu 💌 | join my taglists here

[kteabug]

Chapter Thirteen: kairos

kairos: the perfect, delicate, crucial moment; rightness of time and place that creates the opportune atmosphere for action, words, or movement

Chapter Summary: Oikawa travels to San Juan and Iwaizumi might get a roommate.

Pairings: Alpha!Iwaizumi x Omega!Oikawa

Word Count: 4272

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, anxiety, 

Rating: 18+

A/N: I’m sorry it’s been so long since the last update. My pregnancy was exhausting but good news is Peanut is here and doing well (he came on 9/18 and was a tad early) - still trying to get back into the swing of things. 

Various Locations – Early March 2022

San Juan, Argentina – Saturday, 1pm

“Toooooruuuu!!!!” Mateo rushes over towards his former teammate, crashing into him as he wraps his arms around the Omega.

Oikawa takes in the familiar and missed tangerine pheromones, finally able to relax since he first got to the airport to leave Japan. He hates flying now, the intense mix of various pheromones makes the task more difficult than it already was, but his shoulders drop as the citrus scent slowly surrounds him.

“Give him some room to breathe, ‘Teo.” Pablo rolls his eyes, getting a smile from Oikawa, who is glad to see that they are still the same after he left.

“Don’t act like you didn’t miss him!” Mateo teases the Alpha, squeezing Oikawa once more before reluctantly stepping backwards.

Pablo tries to rebut before giving up, awkwardly looking around, unsure what to really do. He reaches out to take Oikawa’s backpack but is surprised when he’s pulled into a hug by the Omega.

“I missed you too.” Oikawa beams his signature smile up at the Alpha, who can’t seem to say anything coherent before the Omega lets go.

The three of them head to the baggage claim, Pablo grabs his suitcase before either Omega could. Mateo eagerly catches Oikawa up on the team, old and new teammates, about the coach and mostly just about how things have been in their friend group since he left. It’s a bit bittersweet really, listening to all the things he’s had to miss out on, but on the other hand he appreciates that his departure didn’t cause any issues with his friends.

* * Irvine, California – 9am

The blonde watches his phone – the blue-eyed man on the other end is frantically moving around the apartment. They’d been on video call for nearly 30 minutes and at least 25 of them were him watching the other man arrange and rearrange the living room area over and over.

“I think the khaki pillow looked better on the left cushion of the couch rather than the right.”

“Really?” Santiago reaches for the pillow before stopping, an unamused expression on his face as he turns towards his laptop. “I don’t appreciate your sarcasm, sir.”

The blonde feigns innocence, “I have no idea what you mean.”

He sighs, flopping down on the bar stool in front of the bar where his laptop is sitting, running his fingers through his hair, an adorable pout on his face. “I’m sorry. You’re busy and here I am wasting time by moving furniture.”

“No time spent with you is wasted.” He laughs watching Santiago cringe at the corny comment, “but I do need to get going – warm-ups will be starting soon.”

The dark-haired Alpha poked out his bottom lip, “shouldn’t college athletes be old enough to warm-up without their coach?”

Someone calls for the blonde, pulling his attention from the pouting Alpha. After a few minutes, his attention is redirected, “I really need to go, Santi. I’ll try to call tonight if you haven’t partied too hard, I know how you get.”

Santi rolls his eyes, “I drunk call one time and it never gets let go.”

“Never.” He smirks, “alright, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye, Col. Good luck today.”

“You too. Oh – I’d move that pillow before he gets there!”

“BYE!” Santiago hangs up in the middle of Colin laughing. Shaking his head at the other Alpha’s behavior, no matter how ridiculous he is, he always seems to calm Santiago down.

** San Juan, Argentina – Saturday, 1:45pm

Oikawa has spent the entire elevator ride fidgeting with his phone, nervously wondering where the campfire scented Alpha is. There’s a thought, a quick one, but it settles deeply in his stomach and that’s that maybe the Alpha doesn’t want anything to do with him anymore. Maybe over the last few months he realized Oikawa was just too much to deal with.  

“Honey, we’re home!” Mateo calls out when he unlocks the Alpha’s apartment. The three of them shuffled into the doorway, Pablo still refusing to let Oikawa carry his own luggage.

A panicked Alpha looks over at the door, khaki-colored pillow in his hand as his dark hair falls slightly in his eyes. Oikawa squeezes between Mateo and Pablo, a cautious expression on his face as he searches Santiago’s for any clues on his feelings, hoping that it’s all in his head, that his former teammate wouldn’t just abandon him like a certain other Alpha.

It happens in a blur. Strong tanned arms wrap around him, pulling him into a broad chest as he feels the other man nuzzle his face into the curve of his neck. His nose brushes gently against his scent gland – ones that Oikawa covered with scent blockers and now feels awkward having done – trying to take in the Omega’s pheromones.

“I missed you so much.” The Alpha finally speaks, voice a bit huskier than he remembers and suddenly all the stress that has been knotted up in shoulders, all the negative thoughts about Santiago wanting nothing to do with him, just evaporates as he wraps his arms around the Alpha.

** San Juan, Argentina – Saturday, 11pm

“Since when do you only drink two beers?” Oikawa teases the Alpha, getting a sleepy chuckle out of Pablo, who is half-asleep in the armchair closest to the door.

“It’s because of blondie.” Mateo adds, tossing a wink to whomever.

“Blondie?” Oikawa raises an eyebrow as he turns to Santiago, curiosity tangling into his scent.

He rubs the back of his neck, clearly trying to come up with something to say, but unable to. “J-just a friend.”

Oikawa watches as the Alpha looks down at his ringing phone before excusing himself down the hall. The Omega looks over at Mateo, who just waves him off, reassuring him that Santiago wasn’t upset, but maybe a bit embarrassed.

The brunette gets a bit impatient, tossing his phone beside him after absentmindedly scrolling through various apps. He looks over to see both Mateo and Pablo passed out before he heads down the hall to see what Santiago is up to, but stops when he hears the Alpha talking.

“How was the track meet?” Santi follows up with a congrats, leaving Oikawa to suspect things went well for whomever was on the other end.

Oikawa’s eyes widen slightly, watching a new side of the Alpha appear – one he’s never seen before. He watches the usually confident and boisterous Alpha turn into a docile, shy-like pup and Oikawa is sure if he had a tail, it’d be wagging excitedly.

“Ya know,” his voice becomes soft, bashfulness slipping into his pheromones, “I was looking at my schedule and I think I can get some time off at the end of next month.”

Oikawa knows he should leave, that obviously this was a private conversation, but he’s captivated at just how Santiago is acting. How tamed he seems to be with whoever is on the other end of the line.

“No, no, no…I can come there. Maybe even see you in action as the best track coach.” There’s a pause, “best coach in my book.”

The Omega smiles, slightly jealous of the interaction, wishing he had an Alpha like that. Wishing for just a moment the Alpha who marked him acted that way (damn his stupid instincts) and for just a moment, he wonders how he ever let Sanitago go, why he never gave him a chance.

Santiago amusingly hums at something said to him before finally noticing Oikawa in the doorway, looking apologetic. He holds up an index finger – signaling for him to wait.

“You’ll call tomorrow when you get back? Be careful please.” The Alpha lowers his voice as he turns away from Oikawa, but the brunette swears he hears: ‘goodnight, I love you.’

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.” Oikawa quickly defends himself when Santi turns around, the call now ended.

“No worries.”

“I guess that was blondie?” Oikawa watches the Alpha run his fingers through his hair, turning away slightly as if he was embarrassed and suddenly it all clicks. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“His name is Colin. We met at the Olympics, he was on the USA team.” Santi motions for Oikawa to sit next to him on the side of the bed. He tells the Omega how it was a complete coincidence that they had even met: that he had gone to the vending machines and saw Colin and his friend, Ty. Then later that night, he ran into the blonde again outside the hotel which led to them talking well into the morning.

“Aww. Santi, that's adorable.” The Omega purrs.

The Alpha rolls his eyes, “we just clicked and exchanged numbers, but it’s nothing official or anything. Not to mention the huge distance.”

Oikawa picks up on the slight distress coming off Santi, “I think any Omega would be lucky to have you, regardless of the distance. You’re worth making it work, ya know?”

Santiago smirks when the pang in his chest he’s waiting for never comes. There was a time when he’d read into that, assuming the brunette Omega felt the same way about him, but he guesses this is what you call growth. He hums, “I’m pretty sure I’m more lucky to have him.”

** San Juan, Argentina – Thursday, 10am

“Stay.” Mateo clings to Oikawa, whining repeatedly, “just a couple more days or forever. My apartment has a spare room.”

Oikawa chuckles, “I would, but I promised my mom I’d be home for dinner.”

The other Omega just rolls his eyes, shooting a glare at the two Alphas who found Oikawa’s remark hilarious. He knows this goodbye isn’t forever, that Oikawa has already promised to be better at keeping in contact, trying to visit more once things get more settled with his mark and he figures out what he’s going to do with the rest of his life now that volleyball is over.

“Do you need help carrying this?” Pablo asks. “I got it from here.” Oikawa takes his backpack and suitcase from the Alpha, who once again refuses to let him carry his own bags. “I won’t have any strong Alphas back home to carry them for me.”

“You know you really can stay. My place has an extra room and is a lot nicer than Mat’s.” Santiago offers.

“Hey!”

“I appreciate it and would like to stay, but –” He stops, unsure of what really is keeping him in Japan. There are doctors in Argentina and it isn’t like he’s attending college or working which would keep him in his home country. The only thing he can think of is Iwa, but things with him were still so up in the air.

“But your mom is waiting.” Santi finishes, picking up on the very slight distress coming from the Omega.

Oikawa just smiles, once again thankful for the Alpha who always seems to just know. “Colin is really lucky to have you.”

He says one final goodbye to his friends before heading towards his gate, feeling a weight lifted from his shoulders because this time, leaving feels like it’s his choice instead of the only one he has.

* * Tokyo, Japan – Late March 2022

Iwaizumi is exhausted. Somehow the exercise physiologist that was hired four months ago has led him to having even more work. The charts have all recently been digitized so that at any time an employee can sign into the charts and add notes and such to the players’ charts. However it seems the new guy likes to just jot notes down in a personal notebook and not input them into the charts meaning Iwaizumi has to hunt the information down. He understands handwriting notes, he too has a notebook he keeps things in, but at least he makes sure to make it accessible to the rest of the staff. So much for teamwork.

But Iwa’s irritation towards the other Alpha goes deeper than missing chart notes and always taking the coffee mug Iwa likes to use. There’s just something about him that rubs Iwaizumi the wrong way like a shirt tag that scratches against your neck. Maybe it’s the fact this guy refuses to use scent patches and his almost suffocating pheromones fill whatever space he’s been in. Or maybe it’s the annoying way the leathery scent seems familiar, but he can’t place it.

He scrunches up his face as he places the mug of now cold coffee back on his desk – mood further souring. Rolling his shoulders he looks over at the wall clock in his office: 5:45PM and he knows that he won’t be leaving anytime soon.

Ding! Ding!

Oikawa: Are you coming to Mattsun’s?

Oikawa: Oh! Sorry to bother you at work!

Iwaizumi: Don’t be! No bother at all.

Iwaizumi: I can’t tonight – paperwork.

Iwaizumi sighs, his irritation toward the newly hired Alpha grows. Things between the pair had been a little off after the reunion and before they could meet back up in person, he took a trip to South America. Iwaizumi assumed that he’d have a lot of people to catch up with, so he limited his replies even though it drove him crazy to know he could talk to the Omega whenever he wanted. He knows Oikawa is having a tough time and even if it means swallowing his feelings down, he just wants to be there for him, to be the one he can lean on. But this stupid, leathery smelling bitch of an Alpha continues to stand in his way.

** Oikawa: Boo you whore!

Oikawa lets out a deep sigh, dropping his arm to the side while his fingers brush against the carpet. The only thing that had gotten him through this shitty week had been the thought of getting to see and talk to the Alpha.

The pair have been texting a lot, almost everyday ended with a phone call to the other, and things have started to feel more normal than they had been since his return to Japan. But texts and calls weren’t the same as being face-to-face, to being able to smell Iwa’s earthy pheromones and pretend he doesn’t notice how he’s the only Alpha that doesn’t trigger his instincts into thinking he’s betraying the one whose mark he wears.

Bzzt! Bzzt!

Iwaizumi Hajime: Blame the new guy

Oikawa: Maybe I’ll come by and give him a piece of my mind.

Iwaizumi Hajime: And tell him what? To leave your Alpha alone?

Oikawa squeals, tossing his phone towards Makki who gets hit in the shin due to not paying attention to the Omega’s antics. The pink-haired Beta quickly shoots a confused look at the brunette before picking up the cellphone by his foot.

“Who are you talking to that has you acting more of a dork than usual?”

“...Iwaizumi.”

The Beta perks up, trying a few password combinations before locking the Omega out of his phone for five minutes. Both men groan as they can only sit and watch the phone slowly and painstakingly count down – both silently thankful Makki didn’t disable it for any longer or permanently.

Oikawa experiences several emotions while reading the six unread messages from Iwa that all came in during the last five minutes. From the bashfulness that heats up the tips of his ears and fills his chest with warmth to the defeated feeling that runs a chill across his shoulders when reality slaps him in the face, taking away the short illusion that his life isn’t what it is.

Iwaizumi Hajime: I meant friend

Iwaizumi Hajime: Ya know, like ‘leave your Alpha friend alone’

Iwaizumi Hajime: That makes even less sense…

Iwaizumi Hajime: Oikawa? Hello?

Iwaizumi Hajime: I’ll talk to you later…paperwork, ya know?

Iwaizumi Hajime: I’m sorry for that message…especially since you’re…well ya know…

“At least he didn’t text you ‘I was hacked’ or something lame like that.”

Oikawa gives Makki a ‘what the fuck’ expression before locking his phone. “I thought you were going to help me search for an apartment, not pick on me.”

“I don’t even think ‘hiro has ever searched for an apartment in his life.” Mattsun remarks as he walks into the apartment, having just got off of work. He presses a quick kiss to Makki’s temple before properly greeting the Omega.

“I did too! I went with Ryuu–” the Beta quickly bites his lip, eyes focusing on the ground because he doesn’t want to see the look that could be in Matsukawa’s eyes.

Mattsun clears his throat, it does nothing to alleviate the thick tension that’s in the air around them. “Why the sudden itch to move? I’m sure your parents love having you there.”

“They do and I enjoy being there. But…uh…well it’s getting harder on me to be exposed to so many pheromones and the train takes a huge toll on me. I figured finding a place close or at least closer to my doctors would be the best.” He knows that he’s rambling a bit, but he can’t help it. The clear tension in the room has him slightly on edge. “Plus I should really think of getting a job or maybe going to college.”

Matsukawa hums before walking down the hallway towards the master bedroom. Once the door clicks, Oikawa practically breaks his neck turning towards Hanamaki, who already knows what’s going to come out of the Omega’s mouth.

“What the fuck was that? Who is Ryuu? Why did Mattsun look so…dejected?”

Makki glances down the hallway, their bedroom door still shut, but he keeps his voice low anyways. “Ryuuji was an…uhm…Alpha I saw for some time.”

“Before Mattsun?” His words come out slowly and he doesn’t like the look on the Beta’s face. “While you were together? Makki…did you che–”

“No!” He yells in a hushed tone. “It was before we were together or at least serious. Back when we just hooked up from time to time, I happened to meet Ryuuji while waiting for Issei to meet me at a bar. We actually stopped talking for a while, Issei and I, so it’s just kind of a sore topic.”

“What happened? I mean with Ry–that Alpha?” Of course Oikawa knew Mattsun and Makki were essentially fuckbuddies. Hell, anyone with half a brain cell could see that, but the Omega never knew they stopped talking, that someone drove them apart.

“He did what Alphas do.” Hanamaki’s words are laced with venom, “he marked an Omega.”

The brunette’s hand moves on its own, covering the bite mark that’s already hidden behind his charcoal gray turtleneck.

* * Tokyo, Japan –  Early April 2022

Iwaizumi watches in confusion as Hanamaki looks around his apartment, walking around like he’s scoping the place out.

“Would you say it’s fairly priced for the location? How far from K University? Do you like the area?”

The Alpha glances at Matsukawa who just throws his hands up, he’s just as confused and lost as Iwa is with his partner’s behavior. “It’s within my budget, so I’d say yeah. It’s about a ten minute walk and I don’t really go out much due to work, but my coworkers enjoy the local shops and such.”

The Beta hums, walking down the hallway. “How many bedrooms?”

“Uh…two.” Iwa looks at Makki when he returns to the living room area, “why so many questions? Mattsun finally kicked ya out?”

Makki scrunches his face and sticks his tongue out, “funny, but no. I know someone who is looking for a place. Do you use your second bedroom?”

“What? Uhm, not really. It was going to be an office, but I never work from home.”

“You know, they say having a roommate makes you happier.”

“Who says that?” Iwa asks just as Mattsun remarks, “do they really?”

“It was in an article.” Makki shoots a glare at his partner, “anyways, think of how fun it would be! More money in your pocket, someone to help around the place, no more lonely nights in silence.”

“When did I say my nights were lonely?”

“You’re 28, live alone and don’t even have a plant. They’re lonely.” Makki tilts his head with an amused look on his face.

“Wait wait wait. Who do you know that needs a place?”

“Oikawa. He mentioned it a few weeks ago when he came over.”

This certainly catches Iwaizumi’s attention. The two of them have talked plenty within that time frame and the Omega never mentioned it to him. “Why out here? Wouldn’t it be easier to stay close to his parents?”

Makki rolls his eyes, annoyed that those two still haven’t gotten their shit together, before telling Iwaizumi briefly what Oikawa had told him. The train rides were beginning to take a huge toll, he spent more time at the various doctors than at home anyways, and he was thinking of getting a job or going back to school.

Iwaizumi realizes there’s a lot that Oikawa doesn’t include in their conversations and he tries not to feel so rejected by that realization. An Alpha had hurt him, so of course opening up to another one, especially one with a rocky history, would be difficult. Not to mention, Iwaizumi could start asking deeper questions instead of just ‘how are you’ and ‘did you have a decent day’ and waiting for Oikawa to lead the conversation.

“Even if I wanted a roommate, asking Oikawa to move in would be disrespectful.”

Matsukawa runs his hand down his face, “what the hell are you talking about?”

“It’s distasteful to live with a marked Omega who isn’t bonded to you.”

The two Betas share a look, one mixed with exhaustion and annoyance, those two really did know how to stress them out unknowingly.

“That’s such a traditional way of thinking.” Mattsun tells the Alpha.

“Yeah, did we wake up back in the 1800’s.” Makki teases, “plus the hell with tradition. There’s nothing traditional about his whole situation. He’s been home for what…six months now? And not once has that Alpha appeared or even been mentioned.”

Hanamaki did make good points. It would be different if the bond was complete. It would be different if Oikawa was just blatantly choosing to live with a different Alpha. Hell, it would be different if the Omega wasn’t bonded at all. But he is and the only saving grace that calms Iwa’s thoughts is that that Alpha isn’t in the picture. Well at least he assumes said Alpha isn’t.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” Iwaizumi rolls his eyes when he hears Makki squeal.

The strawberry-haired Beta jumps up, immediately announcing that he’s calling Oikawa before either of the other men in the apartment can object.

“But only if he can’t find a place first!” Iwaizumi calls out, knowing the Beta doesn’t hear a word he’s just said.

“Looks like you might get a roommate, eh?” Matsukawa smirks when Iwaizumi chugs the rest of his beer.

* * Miyagi, Japan – Mid April 2022

“Are you sure about this? It’s not really…it might look…” Miyeko struggles to find the right way to phrase her thoughts.

“No matter what I do, things won’t look good to some people.” Oikawa chuckles, knowing his mother means well, but he’s used to this. Used to the awkward stares he gets from new nurses and receptionists, to the curious looks when people realize he’s covering a bond mark, something most wear with pride. He can’t say that he likes or enjoys the feeling of shame that he gets or the way he wants to crumble at their judgment, but his parents have done so much and the least he can do is act like it doesn’t get to him.

“I think this will be good for Tooru,” Daisuke gives his wife’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Maybe he’ll be able to spend less days stuck in bed from pheromone overloads and even go back to lower doses of his medicine. Things may get more stable and he can start the next chapter in his life. Plus we know Hajime will look after him.”

Miyeko still doesn’t look all that convinced and her tone solidifies that, “but…maybe we should ask your doctor again or get a second opinion.”

“Dr. Frye thinks it will be a good thing and so does Dr. Arimura. I promise if it gets too much I’ll rethink things and bring them up at appointments.”

“If it gets too much, Tooru knows he can come home or we can help him find a different place.”

“Let’s just get you a single apartment now.” Hints of distress start to taint his mother’s lavender scent causing his dad’s woodsy scent to fill the room.

“Mi, I’m worried about this too, but I think we can both agree we’d feel a bit better if we knew someone was with Tooru, right?”

“It’s just…he’s an Alpha…”

“But before that, he’s just Hajime, Tooru’s childhood best friend. We know his pheromones don’t affect Tooru as badly as others do and this way there’s someone there just in case.”

“He’ll be my roommate not my keeper.” Oikawa huffs, feeling more like a teenager than he did back when he actually was one.

“And you’re sure he’s okay with you living with him?” Miyeko turns her attention back to her son.

“Yes, Mom. I’ll have him tell you himself when he calls tonight if you want.”

“Well, if you are both sure this is a good idea…” “I’m already poorly bonded, what’s the worst that could happen?” Oikawa jokes, causing Miyeko to state he was going to cause her to have a heart attack before walking off and getting a head shake from Daisuke.

But honestly, what was the worst that could happen?

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[zimms]

an olliewicks flower shop au to soothe the soul! this is somewhat based on mine and @tingo-tango’s tags on this post. 

fields of flowers, soft beneath my heels

Ollie’s wrist-deep in a pot of soil, sweat rolling down his cheeks and sunlight streaming through the windows of Faber’s Flowers, when the shop’s bell rings and a new customer stumbles through the door. Ollie frowns slightly and hastily wipes the beads of sweat off his chin with the corner of his shirt, before plastering on his best customer service smile to greet whoever needs flowers at 7:30 am on a Tuesday morning. He mentally catalogues the possibilities; maybe they’ve forgotten their spouse’s birthday? Or maybe it’s a gift for someone at work? Maybe it’s an apology present because they accidentally cycled into a fruit stall and ruined a fresh batch of melons? 

(Okay, maybe not, but it would be a refreshing change in the cycle of constant businessmen grovelling for their partner’s forgiveness)

Ollie shakes himself from his thoughts and grins across the counter at the customer, who’s sporting a baseball cap and a t-shirt that sits just right across his broad shoulders. Ollie’s eyes track down the guy’s biceps which are a tad too big for the sleeves. Ollie consciously shut his mouth to stop himself from gaping; this guy was hot. As Ollie’s gaze roams across the customer’s face to meet his eyes, he realises three things. Number one is that he definitely shouldn’t be ogling a customer like he’s a piece of meat. Number two is that he hasn’t said anything to this guy yet. Number three is that at least a minute of awkward silence and staring has passed since the customer entered the shop. 

Ollie rips his eyes away from the customer’s face to stare at a spot slightly behind his left shoulder. “Hi! What can I help you with today?”

The guy shifts on the balls of his feet, scanning the shelves of bouquets and individual flowers. “Erm, I’m looking for a bouquet of flowers for my mom?” His voice raises at the end of his sentence, which is kind of cute, if Ollie does say so. He rubs the back of his neck and his checks flush pink. “I kinda need to apologise to her.”

Ah, a classic apology scenario. Got it. 

“What’s the apology for?” Ollie asks as he turns to the sink behind the counter to wash his hands. “Not that you have to tell me that is; it just might help as we make the bouquet.” He unravels the roll of tissue paper and cuts off a square to package the flowers in. 

Hot Guy winces. “Ah,” he says, “I kinda got into a fight in front of her the other night. She was not happy to say the least, so I figured I might as well get her some flowers to apologise for it.” 

“Cool, cool.” Ollie grins at him. “What kinda flowers do you want for her?” He gestured to the whole shop, where various buckets of flowers lined the walls, each displaying a different species. “We can get her just a plain old bunch that’s all just the same type of flower, or we could mix and match, create a nice piece of artwork that she’ll admire rather than a bunch that’s boring and all the same.”

Hot Guy’s eyes flick up from the counter and meet Ollie’s own, moving slowly up his body. If Ollie was feeling particularly optimistic, he’d say the guy was checking him out, but he pushes that thought to the corner of his mind because he’s made way too many faux-pas in the past by asking out guys that have come into the shop just for all of them to be straight. Hot Guy clears his throat. “Yeah, a mixture sounds good. I know her favourite flowers are hyacinths if that helps?”

“That’s perfect.” Ollie shoots him the most reassuring smile he can think of, eyes softening. He grabs the bucket of blue hyacinths that sit behind him. “These alright?” 

“Yeah, those are great,” Hot Guy says a little hoarsely, squinting at Ollie’s name tag, “Ollie.” Something settles in Hot Guy’s voice and he seems a bit more comfortable. 

“So, why'd you get into a fight in front of your mom?” Ollie reaches for the bucket of Narcissus behind him and waves a bunch at Hot Guy for affirmation. He nods in return. “Doesn’t seem like the best idea to me-” Ollie trails off, hoping that Hot Guy might get the hint and finally introduce himself. 

“Oh, uh, Pacer.” He coughs and the remaining tension leaks out of his posture. “Nah, a guy said something about Ma, and you know, I had to rush to defend her like the rash idiot I am.” 

Ollie laughs. “At least, it’s one of the more noble reasons to get into a fight. There’s a bit more chance of forgiveness, then.”

Pacer nods and his gaze wanders away from where Ollie is deftly making the bouquet to settle on the purple Clematis. 

“You like them?” Ollie makes a ‘gimme’ motion with his hands and Pacer passes the bucket over to him. Their hands briefly brush each other during the exchange and Ollie does everything in his power to ignore the jolt that goes through him at that brief skin to skin contact. “You’ve got a good eye; I was just about to grab them myself.”

“Yeah, my mom loves blue and yello-” Pacer cuts himself off with a sneeze. “Also, aren’t they the colours of the local hockey team around here? The Falcons?” Although he has a completely clueless tone to his voice, Pacer is studying Ollie’s reaction as if it might reveal the secrets of the universe. 

“Yeah, the Falcs! I only get to see them every so often, but they’re great,” Ollie says, doing his level best to ignore Pacer’s sudden intensity. “I was actually on the same team as Jack Zimmermann in college, which was pretty cool.”

“Really?” Pacer’s enigmatic expression becomes even more indecipherable. “That is pretty cool.” He looks slightly over his shoulder towards the street before meeting Ollie’s eyes and flashing a genuine smile at him. “I actually played a bit of hockey myself, you know.”

Ollie tries to convince himself that the bubble of excitement that rushes through him is because Pacer is such a good conversationalist and not for any other reason, like the fact that they have a couple of things in common, or that Pacer is one of the hottest guys he’s ever seen. 

(He fails.)

_X_

Pacer leaves about forty minutes later, with a bouquet and handwritten note in hand and a smile fixed firmly on his face. When Ollie goes to scrub down the counter and start repotting the plant he’d abandoned when Pacer had arrived, he spots a scrap of paper that definitely hadn’t been there before. The note is pretty cute; it’s a string of numbers and a smiley face, accompanied by a couple of lines from Pacer.

Would you like to go I would have asked you out earlier, but my tea friend always says it’s bad form to hit on workers whilst they’re on shift. Anyway, here’s my number if you want to go out some time? Call m Don’t worry if you don’t though!

- Pacer 

Ollie grins as he opens up his phone to add the number to his contacts, but pauses as he sees a Google Alert come through that he’s set up for the Falcs. The text reads, Providence Falconers acquire forward Pacer Wicks from Colorado Avalanche in exchange for a second round pick in the 2022 NHL Draft, and immediately underneath the caption, Pacer’s smiling face stares out at him. 

Pacer’s voice echoes in his mind. “I actually played a bit of hockey myself.”

Played a bit of hockey himself? Ollie cannot believe this guy. He plays in the fucking NHL and all he says is “I actually played a bit of hockey myself.” 

However, Ollie thinks as he opens up the article to see a picture of a bruised Pacer from his last game with the Avs, it would explain why he needed to apologise for fighting in front of his mom. 

_X_

Now that Ollie is aware of Pacer Wicks’ existence, he seems to follow him everywhere. Well, not Pacer exactly, but his name. 

It begins, like many things, at the grocery store. 

“Excuse me?” the cashier asks, as she’s scanning his groceries two days after Pacer first came into the florist’s. “Are you that hockey player? Pacer Wicks?” 

Ollie furrows his eyebrows. He doesn’t think that him and Pacer look that similar, but then again, Pacer’s only been in Providence a couple of days, so people don’t exactly know what he looks like yet. “No, sorry.”

The cashier purses her lips, taking a moment to study him again before ringing him up. “Huh, sorry! You guys just look really alike is all.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” Ollie gathers up his groceries. “These things happen sometimes.”

(He almost texts Pacer to tell him about it, but, as Ollie looks at the clock on his phone, he realises that Pacer probably isn’t going to want to receive a message about how someone thought they looked similar mid-way through his game against the Pens.

Also, he’d have to wish him luck and honestly, as much as Ollie loves the Falcs, he wouldn’t wish them too much luck against his hometown team.)

_X_

ollie

hey! i’ve finished off that other apology bouquet for your ma!

let me know when you want to swing by and pick it up!

also i was watching the game tonight; do you need me to make up another identical one for your ma, or do you wanna come into the shop to choose this one?

pacer

thanks ol! i’ll probably swing by to pick it up tomorrow and then help make the next one at the same time?

ollie

sounds like a plan!!

_X_

When he said these things happen sometimes to that cashier in the grocery store, he didn’t expect them to happen all the goddamn time. Be it at his favourite café, on the street, or on the commuter rail, someone always, always, asks if he’s Pacer Wicks. 

_X_

ollie

oof that hit from eriksen looks like it’s gonna leave a mark

pacer

yeah, half my face is swollen

ollie

yikes

pacer

i assume we’re still on for dinner in a couple of days right?

even if my stunning visage has been marred by the fists of a schooner

ollie

that was a very weird way of putting it

but yeah, i still wanna go out with you even if your face looks like a dodgeball

_X_

A girl taps him on the shoulder at Bitty’s Bites downtown. “Excuse me, are you Pacer Wicks?”

Ollie smiles sheepishly at her, brandishing his coffee cup with a scrawled Oily on it as if it might keep the Pacer Wicks fans away. “Sorry, you’ve got the wrong dude.”

He hurries out of there as quickly as his legs can take him after that, hands fumbling for his phone so that he can text Pacer about it.

ollie

jdshjkdsjh a girl just asked if i was you

pacer

oh?

ollie

yeah, i don’t really know why so many people ask if i’m you

especially as they usually ask when you’re on a roadie??

so i don’t get why they know who you are without knowing the falcs’ schedules

pacer

maybe they’re a fan of my dashing good looks rather than my hockey?

isn’t that why you agreed to go out with me after all?

Ollie grins to himself before sending back three words.

don’t push it

_X_

He’s less generous to the guy on the commuter rail, but in fairness that’s mainly because he stole the last seat just before Ollie could get there and it’s 6:30 in the morning. 

“Hey, aren’t you that hockey pl-?”

Ollie barely looks up from his phone before cutting him off with a sharp “No.”

_X_

Today, someone even asks him at the flower shop.

“No,” he says, heaving the deepest sigh he can whilst still remaining in customer service mode, “I think Pacer Wicks might have other things to do on a Saturday afternoon than work the till at a flower shop.” He shuts the cash drawer on the register with a bang and hands the customer their change and bouquet as quickly as he can. “Thank you for shopping with us! Enjoy your day!” 

He collapses back onto the wooden stool that he keeps behind the counter, taking a breather for approximately five seconds before a laugh echoes through the shop. Ollie jumps half a foot in the air before locating Pacer, who’s stood in the corner of the shop inspecting a piece of sea holly. 

He’s dressed up pretty nicely considering hockey players’ notoriously bad fashion sense, wearing a button-up, a nice pair of jeans that do all the right things for his hockey butt, and his ever-present baseball cap, but this time, unlike his first visit to the shop, it’s sat backwards on his head. He spins around to face the back of the shop, grinning his face off. “I’m impressed by the fact that she asked you that whilst I was standing in the shop and she still didn’t notice me.” He laughs, smirking across at Ollie. “Does that happen often?”

“Yeah, some people are surprisingly oblivious sometimes,” he says, “but also, I don’t look that much like you?” He pauses, trying to work out what Pacer’s face means. He places his hands on his hips and jokingly rounds on Pacer. “Do I?” 

Pacer chuckles, taking a few steps closer so that he’s leaning against the counter. “Not that much, but would it be so bad if you looked like me?” A mock-wounded expression plays across his features as he presses his hand to his chest. 

Ollie takes off his apron and hangs it up behind the counter. “Nope, because you are extremely hot.” He threads his fingers through the hockey player’s belt loops to pull him closer, feeling emboldened by Pacer’s flirting. “And if that means that people are inadvertently calling me hot whilst asking if I’m you?” He shrugs. “I can live with it.”

Pacer has to lower his gaze to meet Ollie’s eyes, the two inch height difference between them clearly obvious, even if Ollie is six foot, thank you very much. “You were right about something though,” Pacer murmurs, “I do have better things to do than stand in a flower shop on a Saturday afternoon.”

“Like what?” Ollie raises an eyebrow.

Pacer smiles softly down at him, taking his hand and interlacing his fingers with Ollie’s. “Like taking the cute florist that works there on a date for starters.” Pacer starts to move them towards the shop’s entrance. “There’s this lit-” He sneezes abruptly.

Ollie tilts Pacer’s head downwards. “That’s like the fourth time you’ve sneezed in the shop.” He rubs his thumb over his cheek, frowning when he sees that Pacer’s eyes are slightly red. “Are you okay?”

Pacer waves him off. “Yeah, it’s fine; my antihistamines just wore off.”

His-? Ollie furrows his eyebrows before leading his date out of the shop. “Pacer, are you allergic to flowers?” 

“No?” Pacer’s sheepish and slightly bunged up reply says everything that Ollie needs to know.

“Fuck, Pace, why have you been coming to the shop so much if you’re allergic? Surely you don’t like the aesthetics of flowers that much that you need to torture your sinuses every spare minute of the day.” Ollie pinches the bridge of his nose, voice full of exasperation.

Pacer holds his hands up in surrender. “In my defence, the first few times were because I did need to buy Ma flowers, but I didn’t keep coming back because the flowers were pretty.” He pulls Ollie close and frames his face with his hands. “I came back because the florist was.”

_X_

The final time Ollie is mistaken for Pacer is five years later as he’s heading towards the arena for Pacer’s final game of the season. In fairness, dressed in a Wicks jersey and a Falcs snapback, he probably looks more like Pacer now than he has at any time since he first got mistaken for him in the grocery store. 

“Excuse me?” A teenager taps him on the shoulder, their arm slung around a friend. “Are you Pacer Wicks?”

Ollie grins at the kid. “Nope,” he says, trying not to take too much joy in the hope fading from the fan’s eyes before he drops the bombshell, “I am his husband though.”

“Really?” The teenager’s eyes light up. “You’re not kidding, right?”

“Nope.” Ollie holds up his phone screen to show the kid a photo of Pacer kissing his cheek, just so that they know he’s not lying. “D’you wanna meet him after the game?” He smirks at them. “After all, I do know a guy.”

[pattycakessss]

I remember being 3 years old and answering my preschool teachers then that I wanted to be a doctor when I grow up. It was my constant answer. And it was the reason why I always wanted doctor playthings at home.

I remember being 7 and wanting to be with my brother while he was confined in the hospital because of his concussion. I remember wanting to stay there with him and my mom not because I was worried of my brother (I knew he’d be okay) but because I liked hospitals and I liked seeing doctors and watching them do their stuff.

I remember being 12 and discovering the world of Dr. House.  I remember telling myself that one day, I will be like him. I’ll be as good as him, even as mean as him. (Lol) But I will be good at what I do. And that I will be a doctor. I remember that moment well.

I remember being in our highschool career fair in my junior year. I was with my dad and this woman was giving a career talk to us. She was a doctor from PGH. She shared how she struggled in highschool then but ended up being a doctor eitherway. I remember feeling both hopeful and doubtful that I’ll even have the opportunity to get to med school because my dad lost his job and we were barely making ends meet. But I remember the encouragement. How my dad told me we’ll make it happen and that I should pray and work hard. And so I did.

I remember being in college. On my 3rd year, people were already thinking about getting the NMAT. I wanted to take it but then I didn’t have the funds. I spoke to my parents about my desire of still going to medschool and be a doctor. They told me to pray and that it’s not possible. But back then I felt defeated. I knew it will just be left as a dream. We’re not exactly financially able. So even if my parents had me research schools, a part of me was not hoping anymore. 

I remember being 4th year in college and medschool wasn’t even in my mind anymore. A part of me accepted the fact that it’s not gonna happen so I opted to be realistic. I started thinking of a career that I’d like. I was leaning on being a psychologist instead but I ended up liking the thrill of the corporate world more.

I remember being 20, fresh out of college, and landing a job immediately after summer. I remember being asked about my 5 year goal and back then I said I wanted to be a doctor but I knew it wasn’t gonna happen. We weren’t financially stable then. It’s not possible. My then boss accepted it and believed it. Back then, It was tough. I mean we were just starting to get stable. I was finally helping pay for some bills at home. I’d give back to my family every now and then. It worked and I enjoyed it. I had the time of my life. I explored, travelled, met people. And I’m immensely blessed that I was born to this family who supported me in every thing that I wanted to do. I even had brothers who would also push me to be the best ate I could be. 

I remember being 21 and feeling burned out. I thought I liked recruitment. I thought it was gonna satisfy me for the rest of my life and would compensate as a back-up plan for my failed doctor dream. Apparently it didn’t. That same year I spoke to my parents and they pushed me to take the NMAT. They even enrolled me to a review center so I could prepare better. Sadly, though I passed, I didn’t get good NMAT scores. --Well not good for my standards and for other school’s standards as well. My friend from PLM who was in his 2nd year in medschool at the time told me to try and apply to his school and I did try. But only because I had a crush on him. Not because I really wanted to. (Haha I just want to get this one out there lol) But there. After taking the NMAT that year, I still didn’t think we could afford med school so I just decided to go back to work. 

I remember being 22 and having the time of my life. I just finally had a boyfriend, I went to many places, even flew to Singapore on my own to meet my aunt. I remember having one of the toughest tasks at work because they felt that I can do it even if the management doesn’t really allow newbies to take on a senior role, I was given one. I was even OIC on many occassions. Life was good. But then every now and then I remember feeling empty. I knew recruitment still wasn’t what I wanted. And so I spoke to my parents again about taking the NMAT. Like the year before, they said I should take it again if I wanted to. This time though I decided to pay for everything on my own. I also reviewed on my own and it worked. I got higher scores. :) I remember being in SG and talking to my ninang about my plans. She told me to update her about it. And so my hope of being in medschool was ignited. 

I remember being 23 and after talking to my parents, decided that I wanted to go back to school and pursue medicine. They asked “what about the funds?” I shared to them how my ninang told me to update her about it. I thought then that it was my ninang telling me that she’ll fund my studies. Turns out she was just genuinely curious about it and just wanted to be involved and be in touch, which don’t get me wrong, I appreciate a lot to this day. But nonetheless, my parents still said that they’ll support me as much as they could financially as well. You see, by the time I was 23, things were getting better financially in all aspects. We also moved to our own house a few years prior; we weren’t renting anymore. We had a place we called ours and my parents placed it under my name. God is good. :) So going back, my parents supported me and helped me apply to one medical school. It was my college alma mater. The interview came and went and I passed with flying colors. :) Since I already passed, I decided to quit my job and go to med school. Unfortunately, God told me not yet. Because of the lack of funds then, I wasn’t able to enroll on time. Was I devastated? of course I was. But I kept faithful. My parents told me to keep praying. And so I did. 

I remember the months after quitting my job how I lapsed into depression. It was a tough time. I gave up my career and now I was stuck with no income and money. Back then my parents didn’t want me to work anymore and just wait for the next school year to start. So I did. I remember feeling lost that time. Being a bum. I didn’t like it. I often found myself crying at 3 in the morning willing for everything to end. I remember wanting to die and almost committing suicide one to many times. I remember it all. 

By the time I turned 24 in 2019, I decided to get myself together. And stopped just following orders. I decided to apply to another medical school too. (and my dad and brother even came with me!) I got a job to also earn a bit. I remember applying to this state medical school because it would offer low tuition fees that we could afford. I studied my ass off for it, even tried to pull some strings for it. But unfortunately, I failed. I tried to ask for a reconsideration with the help of some connections but it didn’t help. (I mean the admin of the medicine office in that state medschool told me to do something else to have it reconsidered but I opted not to. I didn’t want to earn my slot throught my “connections”. I wanted to earn it because I deserved it. So I walked away from that school and never looked back). So you might be wondering how I took it lightly? Ha! I didn’t. I got depressed again. Drank my sorrows and even wanted to commit suicide again. I felt like such a failure. My boyfriend had to help me get through it. My family didn’t know I took it that bad. But do you wanna know what helped me then? I just prayed. And I cried to God every night. Until one day my parents spoke to me and said, why don’t I try applying to the school I applied to last year that I got admitted to? And I asked them “What about the funds? The fees there are double than what was being asked in the state medical college” and they just said “Just keep praying. And have faith.” 

And by God’s grace, everything fell into place. After going back to my previous alma mater, I was granted a reconsideration of my previous slot. I and one other were the only ones who were granted the spot and was reconsidered to be accepted. :) What’s more amazing was that we had the funds just in time for me to pay for my tuition. Though my boyfriend had to leave again for Australia, it also still worked out in my favor because I got to focus in medical school. 

And yes, you read that right. After all the detours and crossroads, I’m already on my way to reaching my dream. And I wouldn’t have done it without my ever supportive and loving parents, my 2 annoying brothers who never fails to keep me afloat, my 2 dogs, my relatives who are just as supportive, my boyfriend who’s also studying a continent away, and of course, the big Man upstairs! By His grace, I’m already in my 2nd year of medical school and will be graduating by 2023. 

By God’s grace, I’ll finally be a doctor by 2023. Fully licensed to heal by 2024. And will be saving and touching lives as soon as 2022′s clerkship. Prayers up, always!

[newssplashy]

Opinion: The iGen Shift: Colleges must change to reach the next generation

They are, of course, superconnected. But on their terms. Which is why college-bound iGens (Gen Zers, if you prefer) present a challenge to the grown-ups on campus eager to reach and teach them.

Consider orientation season. Katie Sermersheim, dean of students at Purdue University, has a mother lode of information and resources to share (including wellness initiatives and a new mindfulness room). But getting iGen’s attention?

“It can be frustrating slash extra challenging to figure out how to get the word out, whatever that word is,” Sermersheim said. “I do get discouraged.”

A generation that rarely reads books or emails, breathes through social media, feels isolated and stressed but is crazy driven and wants to solve the world’s problems (not just volunteer) is now on campus. Born from 1995 to 2012, its members are the most ethnically diverse generation in history, said Jean Twenge, psychology professor at San Diego State University.

They began arriving at colleges a few years ago, and they are exerting their presence. They are driving shifts, subtle and not, in how colleges serve, guide and educate them, sending presidents and deans to Instagram and Twitter.

They are forcing course makeovers, spurring increased investments in mental health — from more counselors and wellness messages to campaigns drawing students to nature (hug a tree, take a break to look at insects) — and pushing academics to be more hands-on and job-relevant.

They are a frugal but ambitious lot, less excited by climbing walls and en suite kitchens than by career development.

Most critically, they expect to be treated as individuals. Students raised amid the tailored analytics of online retailers or college recruiters presume that anything put in front of them is customized for them, said Thomas Golden of Capture Higher Ed, a Lexington, Kentucky, data firm. He sees group designations evolving into “segments of one.”

Students want to navigate campus life, getting food or help, when it is convenient for them. And, yes, on their mobile devices or phones. “It’s not really technology to them,” said Cory Tressler, associate director of learning programs at Ohio State University, noting that the iPhone came out when most were in grade school.

It is why Ohio State this year, rather than battle device use, issued iPads to 11,000 incoming students. The school designated 42 fall courses “iPad required” (21 more will be added in the spring) and is building an app that in addition to maps and bus routes has a course planner, grades, schedules and a Get Involved feature displaying student organizations.

In the works is more customization, so when students open the app it knows which campus they are enrolled at, their major and which student groups they belong to.

Speaking to students on their terms just makes sense, said Nicole Kraft, a journalism professor at Ohio State who takes attendance via Twitter (she has separate hashtags for each of her three courses). She posts assignments on Slack, an app used in many workplaces. And she holds office hours at 10 p.m. via the video conference site Zoom, “because that is when they have questions.”

Kraft does not use email for class, except to teach students how to write a “proper” one. “That is a skill they need to have,” she said.

While these students are called “digital natives,” they still must be taught how to use devices and apps for academic purposes, Kraft said. She’s had students not know that they could use Microsoft Word on an iPad. “We make a lot of assumptions about what they know how to do.”

Campuses have been slow to recognize that this age group is not millennials, version 2.0.

“IGen has a different flavor,” said Twenge of San Diego State University and author of “iGen: Why Today’s Super-Connected Kids Are Growing Up Less Rebellious, More Tolerant, Less Happy — and Completely Unprepared for Adulthood — and What That Means for the Rest of Us.”

It is tricky to define a large part of the population. But Twenge said big data sets revealed broad psychological patterns shared by those coming of age amid defining social, cultural and economic events.

The difference between growing up in the prosperous 1990s versus seeing family members lose jobs and homes during the 2008 recession alters one’s perspective, she said. It is why iGens are so focused on debt and insist they get skills and experiences that will lead to a career.

The prevalence of school shootings and domestic terrorism has also shaped them.

“This generation defies the stereotypes of young adults,” in terms of risk-taking, Twenge said. They are “more receptive to messages around safety” and less eager to get driver’s licenses, and they come to college “with much less experience with sex and alcohol.”

They are also more cautious when it comes to academics, fear failure and have learning preferences distinct from millennials, said Corey Seemiller, professor at Wright State University and co-author of “Generation Z Goes to College,” who queried 1,200 students on 50 campuses.

“They do not like to learn in groups,” favor videos over static content and like to think about information, then be walked through it to be certain they have it right.

“They want a model” and then to practice, said Seemiller, who posts samples when assigning a paper. “I’ll say, ‘Let’s look through them and see what works.'” Having grown up with public successes and failures online, she said, students are hungry to have a big impact, yet “worry they will not live up to that expectation.”

And despite their digital obsession, Seemiller’s research shows this generation favors visual, face-to-face communication over texting. They are not always good at live social interaction, but they crave it. “They want authenticity and transparency,” she said. “They like the idea of human beings being behind things.”

As a generation that “has been sold a lot of stuff,” said Seemiller, iGens are shrewd consumers of the tone and quality of communication. That’s pushing colleges to focus not only on what they say but also how they say it.

Which is what orientation leaders and staffers in Princeton’s office of the dean of undergraduate students — known on social media as ODUS — have tried to master in the way they welcome the Class of 2022.

A brainstorming session in March generated what became a Princetified cover of Taylor Swift’s “22,” a video with orientation leaders and ODUS staff members as extras, a cappella groups singing the score and Nicolas Chae, a sophomore, directing.

Cody Babineaux, an incoming freshman from Lafayette, Louisiana, whose video of his acceptance to Princeton has 4.6 million Twitter views, appreciated it, especially the Harvard shirt sniffed and tossed out in the first 20 seconds. “It was hilarious,” he said. “It didn’t try too hard.”

Getting student attention and keeping it matters to administrators trying to build excitement for campus events but also in prodding students about housing contracts and honor codes. “We are an office that enforces university standards. We can’t be firing off,” said Thomas Dunne, deputy dean of undergraduate students. “But you have to be animated and human-sounding. Our voice is very personal.”

ODUS has become an active presence on Facebook, Instagram, YouTube and Twitter with a vibe that winks, pokes, weaves in memes and slang terms like BAE (before anyone else) and on fleek (flawlessly styled), and applies hashtags with wit (a free ice cream for dropping by the ODUS office with dance moves worthy of Dean Dunne? #GetServed, #GameOfCones).

Dunne, whose Facebook page began as a student prank without his knowledge more than a decade ago, leans on staff members who include 20-somethings. One, Ian Deas, who favors Snapchat, identifies student “influencers,” following them on Facebook and Instagram.

In posts, he looks for “those trendy phrases that help us stay in the conversation.” When ODUS staff members respond to student posts, it amplifies their reach. “When we are being interactive, our stuff pops up in other people’s feeds” and drives curiosity about “who is behind the voice.”

Being social on social media attracts students who might tune out official communication. Babineaux said he and his friends noted when college posts sounded “goofy” or “like your grandfather trying to say swag.”

He also notices that his generation is criticized “because we are always on our phones,” which gets interpreted as being disconnected. In fact, he said, “we just have more connection with everyone all the time.”

It is also how students like Babineaux learn and get information.

“Social media has helped me get a lot more prepared for Princeton,” he said, adding that he has scrolled through old posts of campus (“I have never seen snow”) and watched videos, including of graduation. “I thought, ‘That will be on my Instagram page in four years.'”

——From Nature to Instagram

By Laura Pappano

Innovative ways that some colleges and universities are engaging their iGen students.

GET DOWN WITH NATURE

At Wellesley College, Suzanne Langridge, director of the new Paulson Ecology of Place Initiative, invited students to look at insects and to adopt trees. Students need technology, but Langridge wants them to “connect more deeply to each other and to a sense of place.”

PHOTOS OR IT DIDN’T HAPPEN

So what if the college president hauls boxes on the day freshmen move in? Without images, it’s a rumor. Which is why John Swallow, president of Carthage College in Kenosha, Wisconsin, will be dressed to help come Sept. 2. He’ll want pictures for his Instagram. He joined the site in September and runs it himself (with advice from his daughter). #picsoryoudontexist

MENTAL WELLNESS

Last fall, Ohio State University opened the Stress Management & Resiliency Training Lab. During 40-minute sessions, students learn mindfulness and deep-breathing techniques to lower anxiety while hooked up to a biofeedback monitor so “they can see in real time how their body reacts to reducing stress,” said Damon Drew, a graduate associate who helps run the lab.

TEACHING IGENS

Daniel Guberman of Purdue’s Center for Instructional Excellence has worked with colleagues to help professors revamp 400 courses to be more engaging, include video and choice for students to show what they know. College is no longer “about identifying the best students,” he said, but presuming “all of these students are here because they are capable of succeeding.”

TOOLS, NOT AMENITIES

The country club era is over as students are “more acutely aware of who is paying for that,” said Raymond Maggi, an architect who has built more than 20 student life projects on college campuses over the past decade. That means shared, fluid and public spaces for tutoring and meeting. Libraries need cafes, he said, and academic departments need lounges with “comfortable seats and cafe tables” with writable surfaces.

Laura Pappano © 2018 The New York Times

source http://www.newssplashy.com/2018/08/opinion-igen-shift-colleges-must-change_4.html

[newssplashy]

They are, of course, superconnected. But on their terms. Which is why college-bound iGens (Gen Zers, if you prefer) present a challenge to the grown-ups on campus eager to reach and teach them.

Consider orientation season. Katie Sermersheim, dean of students at Purdue University, has a mother lode of information and resources to share (including wellness initiatives and a new mindfulness room). But getting iGen’s attention?

“It can be frustrating slash extra challenging to figure out how to get the word out, whatever that word is,” Sermersheim said. “I do get discouraged.”

A generation that rarely reads books or emails, breathes through social media, feels isolated and stressed but is crazy driven and wants to solve the world’s problems (not just volunteer) is now on campus. Born from 1995 to 2012, its members are the most ethnically diverse generation in history, said Jean Twenge, psychology professor at San Diego State University.

They began arriving at colleges a few years ago, and they are exerting their presence. They are driving shifts, subtle and not, in how colleges serve, guide and educate them, sending presidents and deans to Instagram and Twitter.

They are forcing course makeovers, spurring increased investments in mental health — from more counselors and wellness messages to campaigns drawing students to nature (hug a tree, take a break to look at insects) — and pushing academics to be more hands-on and job-relevant.

They are a frugal but ambitious lot, less excited by climbing walls and en suite kitchens than by career development.

Most critically, they expect to be treated as individuals. Students raised amid the tailored analytics of online retailers or college recruiters presume that anything put in front of them is customized for them, said Thomas Golden of Capture Higher Ed, a Lexington, Kentucky, data firm. He sees group designations evolving into “segments of one.”

Students want to navigate campus life, getting food or help, when it is convenient for them. And, yes, on their mobile devices or phones. “It’s not really technology to them,” said Cory Tressler, associate director of learning programs at Ohio State University, noting that the iPhone came out when most were in grade school.

It is why Ohio State this year, rather than battle device use, issued iPads to 11,000 incoming students. The school designated 42 fall courses “iPad required” (21 more will be added in the spring) and is building an app that in addition to maps and bus routes has a course planner, grades, schedules and a Get Involved feature displaying student organizations.

In the works is more customization, so when students open the app it knows which campus they are enrolled at, their major and which student groups they belong to.

Speaking to students on their terms just makes sense, said Nicole Kraft, a journalism professor at Ohio State who takes attendance via Twitter (she has separate hashtags for each of her three courses). She posts assignments on Slack, an app used in many workplaces. And she holds office hours at 10 p.m. via the video conference site Zoom, “because that is when they have questions.”

Kraft does not use email for class, except to teach students how to write a “proper” one. “That is a skill they need to have,” she said.

While these students are called “digital natives,” they still must be taught how to use devices and apps for academic purposes, Kraft said. She’s had students not know that they could use Microsoft Word on an iPad. “We make a lot of assumptions about what they know how to do.”

Campuses have been slow to recognize that this age group is not millennials, version 2.0.

“IGen has a different flavor,” said Twenge of San Diego State University and author of “iGen: Why Today’s Super-Connected Kids Are Growing Up Less Rebellious, More Tolerant, Less Happy — and Completely Unprepared for Adulthood — and What That Means for the Rest of Us.”

It is tricky to define a large part of the population. But Twenge said big data sets revealed broad psychological patterns shared by those coming of age amid defining social, cultural and economic events.

The difference between growing up in the prosperous 1990s versus seeing family members lose jobs and homes during the 2008 recession alters one’s perspective, she said. It is why iGens are so focused on debt and insist they get skills and experiences that will lead to a career.

The prevalence of school shootings and domestic terrorism has also shaped them.

“This generation defies the stereotypes of young adults,” in terms of risk-taking, Twenge said. They are “more receptive to messages around safety” and less eager to get driver’s licenses, and they come to college “with much less experience with sex and alcohol.”

They are also more cautious when it comes to academics, fear failure and have learning preferences distinct from millennials, said Corey Seemiller, professor at Wright State University and co-author of “Generation Z Goes to College,” who queried 1,200 students on 50 campuses.

“They do not like to learn in groups,” favor videos over static content and like to think about information, then be walked through it to be certain they have it right.

“They want a model” and then to practice, said Seemiller, who posts samples when assigning a paper. “I’ll say, ‘Let’s look through them and see what works.'” Having grown up with public successes and failures online, she said, students are hungry to have a big impact, yet “worry they will not live up to that expectation.”

And despite their digital obsession, Seemiller’s research shows this generation favors visual, face-to-face communication over texting. They are not always good at live social interaction, but they crave it. “They want authenticity and transparency,” she said. “They like the idea of human beings being behind things.”

As a generation that “has been sold a lot of stuff,” said Seemiller, iGens are shrewd consumers of the tone and quality of communication. That’s pushing colleges to focus not only on what they say but also how they say it.

Which is what orientation leaders and staffers in Princeton’s office of the dean of undergraduate students — known on social media as ODUS — have tried to master in the way they welcome the Class of 2022.

A brainstorming session in March generated what became a Princetified cover of Taylor Swift’s “22,” a video with orientation leaders and ODUS staff members as extras, a cappella groups singing the score and Nicolas Chae, a sophomore, directing.

Cody Babineaux, an incoming freshman from Lafayette, Louisiana, whose video of his acceptance to Princeton has 4.6 million Twitter views, appreciated it, especially the Harvard shirt sniffed and tossed out in the first 20 seconds. “It was hilarious,” he said. “It didn’t try too hard.”

Getting student attention and keeping it matters to administrators trying to build excitement for campus events but also in prodding students about housing contracts and honor codes. “We are an office that enforces university standards. We can’t be firing off,” said Thomas Dunne, deputy dean of undergraduate students. “But you have to be animated and human-sounding. Our voice is very personal.”

ODUS has become an active presence on Facebook, Instagram, YouTube and Twitter with a vibe that winks, pokes, weaves in memes and slang terms like BAE (before anyone else) and on fleek (flawlessly styled), and applies hashtags with wit (a free ice cream for dropping by the ODUS office with dance moves worthy of Dean Dunne? #GetServed, #GameOfCones).

Dunne, whose Facebook page began as a student prank without his knowledge more than a decade ago, leans on staff members who include 20-somethings. One, Ian Deas, who favors Snapchat, identifies student “influencers,” following them on Facebook and Instagram.

In posts, he looks for “those trendy phrases that help us stay in the conversation.” When ODUS staff members respond to student posts, it amplifies their reach. “When we are being interactive, our stuff pops up in other people’s feeds” and drives curiosity about “who is behind the voice.”

Being social on social media attracts students who might tune out official communication. Babineaux said he and his friends noted when college posts sounded “goofy” or “like your grandfather trying to say swag.”

He also notices that his generation is criticized “because we are always on our phones,” which gets interpreted as being disconnected. In fact, he said, “we just have more connection with everyone all the time.”

It is also how students like Babineaux learn and get information.

“Social media has helped me get a lot more prepared for Princeton,” he said, adding that he has scrolled through old posts of campus (“I have never seen snow”) and watched videos, including of graduation. “I thought, ‘That will be on my Instagram page in four years.'”

——From Nature to Instagram

By Laura Pappano

Innovative ways that some colleges and universities are engaging their iGen students.

GET DOWN WITH NATURE

At Wellesley College, Suzanne Langridge, director of the new Paulson Ecology of Place Initiative, invited students to look at insects and to adopt trees. Students need technology, but Langridge wants them to “connect more deeply to each other and to a sense of place.”

PHOTOS OR IT DIDN’T HAPPEN

So what if the college president hauls boxes on the day freshmen move in? Without images, it’s a rumor. Which is why John Swallow, president of Carthage College in Kenosha, Wisconsin, will be dressed to help come Sept. 2. He’ll want pictures for his Instagram. He joined the site in September and runs it himself (with advice from his daughter). #picsoryoudontexist

MENTAL WELLNESS

Last fall, Ohio State University opened the Stress Management & Resiliency Training Lab. During 40-minute sessions, students learn mindfulness and deep-breathing techniques to lower anxiety while hooked up to a biofeedback monitor so “they can see in real time how their body reacts to reducing stress,” said Damon Drew, a graduate associate who helps run the lab.

TEACHING IGENS

Daniel Guberman of Purdue’s Center for Instructional Excellence has worked with colleagues to help professors revamp 400 courses to be more engaging, include video and choice for students to show what they know. College is no longer “about identifying the best students,” he said, but presuming “all of these students are here because they are capable of succeeding.”

TOOLS, NOT AMENITIES

The country club era is over as students are “more acutely aware of who is paying for that,” said Raymond Maggi, an architect who has built more than 20 student life projects on college campuses over the past decade. That means shared, fluid and public spaces for tutoring and meeting. Libraries need cafes, he said, and academic departments need lounges with “comfortable seats and cafe tables” with writable surfaces.

Laura Pappano © 2018 The New York Times

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They are, of course, superconnected. But on their terms. Which is why college-bound iGens (Gen Zers, if you prefer) present a challenge to the grown-ups on campus eager to reach and teach them.

Consider orientation season. Katie Sermersheim, dean of students at Purdue University, has a mother lode of information and resources to share (including wellness initiatives and a new mindfulness room). But getting iGen’s attention?

“It can be frustrating slash extra challenging to figure out how to get the word out, whatever that word is,” Sermersheim said. “I do get discouraged.”

A generation that rarely reads books or emails, breathes through social media, feels isolated and stressed but is crazy driven and wants to solve the world’s problems (not just volunteer) is now on campus. Born from 1995 to 2012, its members are the most ethnically diverse generation in history, said Jean Twenge, psychology professor at San Diego State University.

They began arriving at colleges a few years ago, and they are exerting their presence. They are driving shifts, subtle and not, in how colleges serve, guide and educate them, sending presidents and deans to Instagram and Twitter.

They are forcing course makeovers, spurring increased investments in mental health — from more counselors and wellness messages to campaigns drawing students to nature (hug a tree, take a break to look at insects) — and pushing academics to be more hands-on and job-relevant.

They are a frugal but ambitious lot, less excited by climbing walls and en suite kitchens than by career development.

Most critically, they expect to be treated as individuals. Students raised amid the tailored analytics of online retailers or college recruiters presume that anything put in front of them is customized for them, said Thomas Golden of Capture Higher Ed, a Lexington, Kentucky, data firm. He sees group designations evolving into “segments of one.”

Students want to navigate campus life, getting food or help, when it is convenient for them. And, yes, on their mobile devices or phones. “It’s not really technology to them,” said Cory Tressler, associate director of learning programs at Ohio State University, noting that the iPhone came out when most were in grade school.

It is why Ohio State this year, rather than battle device use, issued iPads to 11,000 incoming students. The school designated 42 fall courses “iPad required” (21 more will be added in the spring) and is building an app that in addition to maps and bus routes has a course planner, grades, schedules and a Get Involved feature displaying student organizations.

In the works is more customization, so when students open the app it knows which campus they are enrolled at, their major and which student groups they belong to.

Speaking to students on their terms just makes sense, said Nicole Kraft, a journalism professor at Ohio State who takes attendance via Twitter (she has separate hashtags for each of her three courses). She posts assignments on Slack, an app used in many workplaces. And she holds office hours at 10 p.m. via the video conference site Zoom, “because that is when they have questions.”

Kraft does not use email for class, except to teach students how to write a “proper” one. “That is a skill they need to have,” she said.

While these students are called “digital natives,” they still must be taught how to use devices and apps for academic purposes, Kraft said. She’s had students not know that they could use Microsoft Word on an iPad. “We make a lot of assumptions about what they know how to do.”

Campuses have been slow to recognize that this age group is not millennials, version 2.0.

“IGen has a different flavor,” said Twenge of San Diego State University and author of “iGen: Why Today’s Super-Connected Kids Are Growing Up Less Rebellious, More Tolerant, Less Happy — and Completely Unprepared for Adulthood — and What That Means for the Rest of Us.”

It is tricky to define a large part of the population. But Twenge said big data sets revealed broad psychological patterns shared by those coming of age amid defining social, cultural and economic events.

The difference between growing up in the prosperous 1990s versus seeing family members lose jobs and homes during the 2008 recession alters one’s perspective, she said. It is why iGens are so focused on debt and insist they get skills and experiences that will lead to a career.

The prevalence of school shootings and domestic terrorism has also shaped them.

“This generation defies the stereotypes of young adults,” in terms of risk-taking, Twenge said. They are “more receptive to messages around safety” and less eager to get driver’s licenses, and they come to college “with much less experience with sex and alcohol.”

They are also more cautious when it comes to academics, fear failure and have learning preferences distinct from millennials, said Corey Seemiller, professor at Wright State University and co-author of “Generation Z Goes to College,” who queried 1,200 students on 50 campuses.

“They do not like to learn in groups,” favor videos over static content and like to think about information, then be walked through it to be certain they have it right.

“They want a model” and then to practice, said Seemiller, who posts samples when assigning a paper. “I’ll say, ‘Let’s look through them and see what works.'” Having grown up with public successes and failures online, she said, students are hungry to have a big impact, yet “worry they will not live up to that expectation.”

And despite their digital obsession, Seemiller’s research shows this generation favors visual, face-to-face communication over texting. They are not always good at live social interaction, but they crave it. “They want authenticity and transparency,” she said. “They like the idea of human beings being behind things.”

As a generation that “has been sold a lot of stuff,” said Seemiller, iGens are shrewd consumers of the tone and quality of communication. That’s pushing colleges to focus not only on what they say but also how they say it.

Which is what orientation leaders and staffers in Princeton’s office of the dean of undergraduate students — known on social media as ODUS — have tried to master in the way they welcome the Class of 2022.

A brainstorming session in March generated what became a Princetified cover of Taylor Swift’s “22,” a video with orientation leaders and ODUS staff members as extras, a cappella groups singing the score and Nicolas Chae, a sophomore, directing.

Cody Babineaux, an incoming freshman from Lafayette, Louisiana, whose video of his acceptance to Princeton has 4.6 million Twitter views, appreciated it, especially the Harvard shirt sniffed and tossed out in the first 20 seconds. “It was hilarious,” he said. “It didn’t try too hard.”

Getting student attention and keeping it matters to administrators trying to build excitement for campus events but also in prodding students about housing contracts and honor codes. “We are an office that enforces university standards. We can’t be firing off,” said Thomas Dunne, deputy dean of undergraduate students. “But you have to be animated and human-sounding. Our voice is very personal.”

ODUS has become an active presence on Facebook, Instagram, YouTube and Twitter with a vibe that winks, pokes, weaves in memes and slang terms like BAE (before anyone else) and on fleek (flawlessly styled), and applies hashtags with wit (a free ice cream for dropping by the ODUS office with dance moves worthy of Dean Dunne? #GetServed, #GameOfCones).

Dunne, whose Facebook page began as a student prank without his knowledge more than a decade ago, leans on staff members who include 20-somethings. One, Ian Deas, who favors Snapchat, identifies student “influencers,” following them on Facebook and Instagram.

In posts, he looks for “those trendy phrases that help us stay in the conversation.” When ODUS staff members respond to student posts, it amplifies their reach. “When we are being interactive, our stuff pops up in other people’s feeds” and drives curiosity about “who is behind the voice.”

Being social on social media attracts students who might tune out official communication. Babineaux said he and his friends noted when college posts sounded “goofy” or “like your grandfather trying to say swag.”

He also notices that his generation is criticized “because we are always on our phones,” which gets interpreted as being disconnected. In fact, he said, “we just have more connection with everyone all the time.”

It is also how students like Babineaux learn and get information.

“Social media has helped me get a lot more prepared for Princeton,” he said, adding that he has scrolled through old posts of campus (“I have never seen snow”) and watched videos, including of graduation. “I thought, ‘That will be on my Instagram page in four years.'”

——From Nature to Instagram

By Laura Pappano

Innovative ways that some colleges and universities are engaging their iGen students.

GET DOWN WITH NATURE

At Wellesley College, Suzanne Langridge, director of the new Paulson Ecology of Place Initiative, invited students to look at insects and to adopt trees. Students need technology, but Langridge wants them to “connect more deeply to each other and to a sense of place.”

PHOTOS OR IT DIDN’T HAPPEN

So what if the college president hauls boxes on the day freshmen move in? Without images, it’s a rumor. Which is why John Swallow, president of Carthage College in Kenosha, Wisconsin, will be dressed to help come Sept. 2. He’ll want pictures for his Instagram. He joined the site in September and runs it himself (with advice from his daughter). #picsoryoudontexist

MENTAL WELLNESS

Last fall, Ohio State University opened the Stress Management & Resiliency Training Lab. During 40-minute sessions, students learn mindfulness and deep-breathing techniques to lower anxiety while hooked up to a biofeedback monitor so “they can see in real time how their body reacts to reducing stress,” said Damon Drew, a graduate associate who helps run the lab.

TEACHING IGENS

Daniel Guberman of Purdue’s Center for Instructional Excellence has worked with colleagues to help professors revamp 400 courses to be more engaging, include video and choice for students to show what they know. College is no longer “about identifying the best students,” he said, but presuming “all of these students are here because they are capable of succeeding.”

TOOLS, NOT AMENITIES

The country club era is over as students are “more acutely aware of who is paying for that,” said Raymond Maggi, an architect who has built more than 20 student life projects on college campuses over the past decade. That means shared, fluid and public spaces for tutoring and meeting. Libraries need cafes, he said, and academic departments need lounges with “comfortable seats and cafe tables” with writable surfaces.

Laura Pappano © 2018 The New York Times

via NewsSplashy - Latest Nigerian News,Ghana News ,News,Entertainment,Hot Posts,sports In a Splash.

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Opinion: The iGen Shift: Colleges must change to reach the next generation

They are, of course, superconnected. But on their terms. Which is why college-bound iGens (Gen Zers, if you prefer) present a challenge to the grown-ups on campus eager to reach and teach them.

Consider orientation season. Katie Sermersheim, dean of students at Purdue University, has a mother lode of information and resources to share (including wellness initiatives and a new mindfulness room). But getting iGen’s attention?

“It can be frustrating slash extra challenging to figure out how to get the word out, whatever that word is,” Sermersheim said. “I do get discouraged.”

A generation that rarely reads books or emails, breathes through social media, feels isolated and stressed but is crazy driven and wants to solve the world’s problems (not just volunteer) is now on campus. Born from 1995 to 2012, its members are the most ethnically diverse generation in history, said Jean Twenge, psychology professor at San Diego State University.

They began arriving at colleges a few years ago, and they are exerting their presence. They are driving shifts, subtle and not, in how colleges serve, guide and educate them, sending presidents and deans to Instagram and Twitter.

They are forcing course makeovers, spurring increased investments in mental health — from more counselors and wellness messages to campaigns drawing students to nature (hug a tree, take a break to look at insects) — and pushing academics to be more hands-on and job-relevant.

They are a frugal but ambitious lot, less excited by climbing walls and en suite kitchens than by career development.

Most critically, they expect to be treated as individuals. Students raised amid the tailored analytics of online retailers or college recruiters presume that anything put in front of them is customized for them, said Thomas Golden of Capture Higher Ed, a Lexington, Kentucky, data firm. He sees group designations evolving into “segments of one.”

Students want to navigate campus life, getting food or help, when it is convenient for them. And, yes, on their mobile devices or phones. “It’s not really technology to them,” said Cory Tressler, associate director of learning programs at Ohio State University, noting that the iPhone came out when most were in grade school.

It is why Ohio State this year, rather than battle device use, issued iPads to 11,000 incoming students. The school designated 42 fall courses “iPad required” (21 more will be added in the spring) and is building an app that in addition to maps and bus routes has a course planner, grades, schedules and a Get Involved feature displaying student organizations.

In the works is more customization, so when students open the app it knows which campus they are enrolled at, their major and which student groups they belong to.

Speaking to students on their terms just makes sense, said Nicole Kraft, a journalism professor at Ohio State who takes attendance via Twitter (she has separate hashtags for each of her three courses). She posts assignments on Slack, an app used in many workplaces. And she holds office hours at 10 p.m. via the video conference site Zoom, “because that is when they have questions.”

Kraft does not use email for class, except to teach students how to write a “proper” one. “That is a skill they need to have,” she said.

While these students are called “digital natives,” they still must be taught how to use devices and apps for academic purposes, Kraft said. She’s had students not know that they could use Microsoft Word on an iPad. “We make a lot of assumptions about what they know how to do.”

Campuses have been slow to recognize that this age group is not millennials, version 2.0.

“IGen has a different flavor,” said Twenge of San Diego State University and author of “iGen: Why Today’s Super-Connected Kids Are Growing Up Less Rebellious, More Tolerant, Less Happy — and Completely Unprepared for Adulthood — and What That Means for the Rest of Us.”

It is tricky to define a large part of the population. But Twenge said big data sets revealed broad psychological patterns shared by those coming of age amid defining social, cultural and economic events.

The difference between growing up in the prosperous 1990s versus seeing family members lose jobs and homes during the 2008 recession alters one’s perspective, she said. It is why iGens are so focused on debt and insist they get skills and experiences that will lead to a career.

The prevalence of school shootings and domestic terrorism has also shaped them.

“This generation defies the stereotypes of young adults,” in terms of risk-taking, Twenge said. They are “more receptive to messages around safety” and less eager to get driver’s licenses, and they come to college “with much less experience with sex and alcohol.”

They are also more cautious when it comes to academics, fear failure and have learning preferences distinct from millennials, said Corey Seemiller, professor at Wright State University and co-author of “Generation Z Goes to College,” who queried 1,200 students on 50 campuses.

“They do not like to learn in groups,” favor videos over static content and like to think about information, then be walked through it to be certain they have it right.

“They want a model” and then to practice, said Seemiller, who posts samples when assigning a paper. “I’ll say, ‘Let’s look through them and see what works.'” Having grown up with public successes and failures online, she said, students are hungry to have a big impact, yet “worry they will not live up to that expectation.”

And despite their digital obsession, Seemiller’s research shows this generation favors visual, face-to-face communication over texting. They are not always good at live social interaction, but they crave it. “They want authenticity and transparency,” she said. “They like the idea of human beings being behind things.”

As a generation that “has been sold a lot of stuff,” said Seemiller, iGens are shrewd consumers of the tone and quality of communication. That’s pushing colleges to focus not only on what they say but also how they say it.

Which is what orientation leaders and staffers in Princeton’s office of the dean of undergraduate students — known on social media as ODUS — have tried to master in the way they welcome the Class of 2022.

A brainstorming session in March generated what became a Princetified cover of Taylor Swift’s “22,” a video with orientation leaders and ODUS staff members as extras, a cappella groups singing the score and Nicolas Chae, a sophomore, directing.

Cody Babineaux, an incoming freshman from Lafayette, Louisiana, whose video of his acceptance to Princeton has 4.6 million Twitter views, appreciated it, especially the Harvard shirt sniffed and tossed out in the first 20 seconds. “It was hilarious,” he said. “It didn’t try too hard.”

Getting student attention and keeping it matters to administrators trying to build excitement for campus events but also in prodding students about housing contracts and honor codes. “We are an office that enforces university standards. We can’t be firing off,” said Thomas Dunne, deputy dean of undergraduate students. “But you have to be animated and human-sounding. Our voice is very personal.”

ODUS has become an active presence on Facebook, Instagram, YouTube and Twitter with a vibe that winks, pokes, weaves in memes and slang terms like BAE (before anyone else) and on fleek (flawlessly styled), and applies hashtags with wit (a free ice cream for dropping by the ODUS office with dance moves worthy of Dean Dunne? #GetServed, #GameOfCones).

Dunne, whose Facebook page began as a student prank without his knowledge more than a decade ago, leans on staff members who include 20-somethings. One, Ian Deas, who favors Snapchat, identifies student “influencers,” following them on Facebook and Instagram.

In posts, he looks for “those trendy phrases that help us stay in the conversation.” When ODUS staff members respond to student posts, it amplifies their reach. “When we are being interactive, our stuff pops up in other people’s feeds” and drives curiosity about “who is behind the voice.”

Being social on social media attracts students who might tune out official communication. Babineaux said he and his friends noted when college posts sounded “goofy” or “like your grandfather trying to say swag.”

He also notices that his generation is criticized “because we are always on our phones,” which gets interpreted as being disconnected. In fact, he said, “we just have more connection with everyone all the time.”

It is also how students like Babineaux learn and get information.

“Social media has helped me get a lot more prepared for Princeton,” he said, adding that he has scrolled through old posts of campus (“I have never seen snow”) and watched videos, including of graduation. “I thought, ‘That will be on my Instagram page in four years.'”

——From Nature to Instagram

By Laura Pappano

Innovative ways that some colleges and universities are engaging their iGen students.

GET DOWN WITH NATURE

At Wellesley College, Suzanne Langridge, director of the new Paulson Ecology of Place Initiative, invited students to look at insects and to adopt trees. Students need technology, but Langridge wants them to “connect more deeply to each other and to a sense of place.”

PHOTOS OR IT DIDN’T HAPPEN

So what if the college president hauls boxes on the day freshmen move in? Without images, it’s a rumor. Which is why John Swallow, president of Carthage College in Kenosha, Wisconsin, will be dressed to help come Sept. 2. He’ll want pictures for his Instagram. He joined the site in September and runs it himself (with advice from his daughter). #picsoryoudontexist

MENTAL WELLNESS

Last fall, Ohio State University opened the Stress Management & Resiliency Training Lab. During 40-minute sessions, students learn mindfulness and deep-breathing techniques to lower anxiety while hooked up to a biofeedback monitor so “they can see in real time how their body reacts to reducing stress,” said Damon Drew, a graduate associate who helps run the lab.

TEACHING IGENS

Daniel Guberman of Purdue’s Center for Instructional Excellence has worked with colleagues to help professors revamp 400 courses to be more engaging, include video and choice for students to show what they know. College is no longer “about identifying the best students,” he said, but presuming “all of these students are here because they are capable of succeeding.”

TOOLS, NOT AMENITIES

The country club era is over as students are “more acutely aware of who is paying for that,” said Raymond Maggi, an architect who has built more than 20 student life projects on college campuses over the past decade. That means shared, fluid and public spaces for tutoring and meeting. Libraries need cafes, he said, and academic departments need lounges with “comfortable seats and cafe tables” with writable surfaces.

Laura Pappano © 2018 The New York Times

source http://www.newssplashy.com/2018/08/opinion-igen-shift-colleges-must-change.html