The Bard College Berlin Student Blog
Over the summer, my friend Helene and I were sitting in my backyard in upstate New York talking about the importance of feeling connected to nature. After spending the first month of my summer in Berlin, and Helene having been on the road with their family, it was wonderful to reunite and catch up under
The thing I had least expected when moving to Germany to pursue an American Bachelor’s degree was how much I would end up learning about my own country. I spent the better half of my first year at BCB studying the likes of Plato and Smith. In my second year, I decided to probe deeper
Today, on another cloudy day in Pankow, I decided to take a walk. With the start of the semester feeling like coming out of a summer induced snooze, I’ve been trying to remain grounded by going outside and wandering. Sometimes these walks take me towards the city center—all noise and delightful people-watching. But other times,
35 eager (vaccinated, tested) concertgoers snuggled into the cozy interior of FRAMED Berlin, a cultural salon and gallery in the Friedrichshain district. Berlin’s long summer was coming to a close and couples nestled in corners, wine in hand, and closed their eyes to focus on the sparkled sounds of Spanish guitar and a soaring voice
Dear Bard College Berlin community, You are where you are today because approximately twenty-one years ago, three people had one idea. They had studied at top universities in the US or Great Britain, returned to Germany, and met while working at consulting firms. They were impressed with the education they had received abroad and expressed
Die Bärliner invites you to revisit a flash fiction piece by BCB graduate Océanne Fry (HAST’ 21), originally published during our Poetry Month in April. Océanne worked on this project last Spring semester as part of the “LT 167 Writing African Futures” course taught by Prof. Dr. Kerry Bystrom at BCB, in association with the
A slow movement of the eyes before the dizziness of the day is taking over. The clumsy beams of the Sun are rushing into the mirror on the wall and then bouncing back, leaving behind no more than a puddle of light. The birds are finding their melodies they lost during the night, starting the
We decided it was the best place to study flamingos, but camping was Samson’s idea. He inherited a wrangler jeep from some sort of uncle up north. I was at the lake lodge where we did most of our research when he dreamt up the idea. Sitting on the lawn by the lake, everyone heard
“But as they burned, disappearing irrevocably one after the other, you stopped believing that there was any purpose in a book’s existence. Or perhaps the only one to have worked out their purpose was the Sarajevan author and bibliophile who, instead of using expensive firewood, warmed his fingers last winter on the flames of Dostoevsky,
