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
BCB is a community full of people who are highly engaged with politics. Many of us take classes on theoretical or practical aspects of the public sphere, many of us want to pursue politics-related careers, one civic engagement initiative comes after the other, and our cafeteria gives place to countless post-Socratic dialogues on the ideal
“The city will always pursue you” The wooden porch, the bird feeder in the crabapple tree, the screen door with holes in it, a warped tupperware container filled with cough syrup and cayenne pepper that I, age seven, stir carefully with a wooden spoon. “Are you making potions?” my dad asks as I spritz the
This week, as the leaves turn color, the days grow shorter, and there’s simply no more denying the end of summer, Die Bärliner has prepared a special treat to warm the cockles of your heart. We’ve looked into the treasure trove of our archives and dug up some of our favourite pieces on Pankow and
This past May, I moved out of my first non-dorm housing in Berlin. Behind a dense pile of important documents that had been pressed tightly (carelessly?) against my bedroom wall, I rediscovered my Language and Thinking notebook, about half-filled and bound in red Bard College Berlin cardstock. I also found the course reader, stuffed with
One of the privileges and pains of a Liberal Education is that it both encourages and necessitates continual inquiry into its nature and value. Rooted in a rich historical tradition of confusing origins and seemingly contradictory intentions, making sense of a so-called “Liberal Education” is a daunting task that no student should undertake alone… and,
When I began teaching sculpture at BCB in the spring semester of 2015, The Factory was an incredibly raw, open space, with a vibe perhaps closer to a squat’s than to that of a private college arts facility. There was random graffiti covering the walls, the bathrooms had no mirrors or even paper towel dispensers,
Our memories are sculpted through the constant wrestling of forgetfulness and remembrance. Time is given a name and calendarized; we make sense of our past, present, and future as triplet brothers identified under the deceivingly named “I”. This universe of being sometimes talks about the weather twice a day, filling in gaps created by silence.