In a tiny brick church on the corner of Church and 3rd, a handful of eighteen-to-twenty-somethings are reading Plato’s Metaphysics, sculpting heads, memorizing Shakespearian poetry, writing sonnets, studying classical and modern cosmology, and composing contrapuntal music.
I am one of that handful. Sometimes, in the midst of the stress of last-minute paper-writing or the busyness of preparing for a tutoring session, I pause and remember how I ended up at this little college that no one’s ever heard of, and laugh – not a loud, sudden, guttural laugh, but more of a soft one to myself, like a bit of air through my nose. That kind of laugh. I can’t help but laugh: it is a strange and sheer work of the Lord that I am studying here at a small four-year Liberal Arts program called New College Franklin. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.
This Journal is our attempt at sharing our life here with you, whether it’s what we’re reading for class or for fun (from the library), or what’s happening in the community of quaint, historic downtown Franklin, Tennessee, or various creative projects we’re working on at the drawing board, what events we’re planning on campus, or in our travels home or elsewhere in wanderings.
We invite you to take a peek at our life here at NCF, to get a flavor for the place we have grown to love and dread to leave.
And now, in an attempt to appear intellectual, I will leave you with a somewhat related quote:
For last year’s words belong to last year’s language
And next year’s words await another voice.
And to make an end is to make a beginning.
(from T.S. Eliot’s Little Gidding)