I awake to the sound of garbage trucks outside my third floor window in Woodward Hall. I realize that I have forgotten my text as well as my housing ID and therefore I am out of luck. Funny, though, that is precisely why I love my school. What most people would find even more funny is that I love my school about a zillion times more than my former educational institute, the Ann Arbor campus at the renowned University of Michigan.
Integration is the key word here.
As ironic as it might sound, it is what separates the two schools. Previous to my enrollment at the U of M, I received piles of worthless mailings from the university about its diversity. It stressed bringing people of all types of backgrounds together. One thing to remember is that diversity does not mean integrated and this was blatantly clear at Michigan. On the other hand, the moment I stepped into Stonsby Commons at R-N for lunch, the intermingling races caught my eye.