Tag Archives: linn benton community college

10 Signs you might be a Mennonite girl in College

1. You walk into a party and your friend says, “Hey, want a non-alcoholic beer?”

2. You get a job driving combine for a local farmer, and spend a significant amount of time thinking about the carbon emissions all this machinery must produce.

3. You mention “Jehovah’s witnesses handing out paraphernalia,” only to be laughed at and told that when modern folks use the term “paraphernalia” they are almost always referring to drugs.

4. People often ask you what religion you are, and when you say “Christian,” they give you a blank stare.

5. People swear and then apologize to you.

6. Someone asks your history teacher how the Amish came to be, and when he admits that he doesn’t know, you end up giving an impromptu “history of the Amish” speech in class.

7. Someone walks up to you and asks you to pray for their son.

8. While preparing a group presentation for class, one group member suggests that everyone come dressed in black shirts and denim “bottoms.”

9. You can tell when someone is comfortable being your friend, because they start making Mennonite jokes.

10. You, at some point, find yourself in a remote corner of the library making a makeshift head covering because you forgot yours.

(And yes, it is true that all of the above have happened to me at least once.)

The “Generally Awesome Person” Award

I graduated tonight.

I sat beside my friend Nora. We each had a card with our name and degree on it, for the person to read off just before we were handed our diploma cover.

“I wonder if they’ll read off everything I wrote on here,” said Nora.

I looked at her paper. After her degree she had written, “News Editor at The Commuter.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea. I should do that too,” I said.

“You’re gonna write that you were a contributing writer?” she said.

When she put it that way it sounded lame. So instead I wrote, “Generally awesome person award.”

We all filed up. I handed the woman my card. She read, into her microphone, “Emily Smucker. Associate of Arts Oregon Transfer. Generally awesome person award.”

And then she laughed out loud.

I shook the college president’s hand and got my diploma cover. Then I stood to get my picture taken.

“You won the generally awesome person award?” asked the photographer.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Did you just make that up?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said.

Then, instead of walking back to my seat, I walked out of the building. I didn’t feel so good.

The friends who had come to support me saw me leave and followed me. None of them had heard my name announced or seen me get my diploma or shake the president’s hand. They had all zoned out during the enormous amount of Associate of Applied Science degrees.

Oh well. I was glad they’d come. I missed my family.

And then there was like, cake and punch and I took pictures with people who worked at the Commuter. And I also took pictures with the roadrunner. But every picture taken of me is now on someone else’s camera.

Story of my life.

I don’t like the phrase “story of my life.” To me it sounds like, “sympathize with me, but I’m so interesting because this happens to me all the time, lol.” So I’m not sure why I just said “story of my life.”

Okay goodnight.