When deciding what to write about in this blog post, I experienced a case of writers block. Collaboration quickly became the remedy to my problem. After collaborating with colleagues, I had my answer: collaboration as it relates to education, knowledge, professional success, and making connections. During my time in academia, I have made connections with

Tyrice. A former Mott tutor turned good at the Marian E. Wright Writing Center. He is a junior here at UM-Flint majoring in political science. He is an introvert at heart and has his position here to thank for making him talk to people. He enjoys hip hop music, football and his Netflix guilty pleasure

Feb. 14, 20xx, “I love you”, …but of pride or just a potent possibility of words never provoked by me, I never said those words before I met you. I cleft to my restraint not to speak the words, like those words carried some sacredness, like the catholic communion that my sinful state should not

I have had Writer’s Block for quite some time now regarding the content of this blog post. On top of the Writer’s Block, I have also not had time to write anything up. When it comes to writing freely, I need time to brainstorm and think of the perfect topic. However, if the topic is

I have been told numerous times that the more I read, the better I write and the more I write the better at it I become. I believed it then and I still believe it but there is a problem with it as a college student. I don’t have a lot of time to write.

I have a special way of writing and it begins by not writing. I slouch in my seat like an old man far far away eating biscuits and drinking tea while reading old dailies on the side of the beach. After I have settled into my slouching position, I begin to look at the Hindu

This poem was the 1st Place Winner in our 3rd Annual Poetry Contest.   We were opposites, she and I, She of the earth and I of the sky. She ruled day while I ruled night, She worshiped the ground as I took flight. But even so we longed to meet To have our faces

This poem was the 2nd Place Winner in our 3rd Annual Poetry Contest.   Though fallow and brown, it’s a wormhole Transporter in consumption’s own hometown! Set all coordinates to collapse In upon themselves. Fill’er up With holy water; recycle mortal maps. There’s founding boss Jacob Smith With firewater and a pen. Train That water

This poem was the 3rd Place Winner in our 3rd Annual Poetry Contest.   5’3 with an itty bitty waist, with some itty bitty tittys and a pretty brown face 19, with a gap in my teeth, I’m addicted to weave but that’s the only thing fake 96 was when my mom gave birth to