According to a recent Institute of Mental Health study, more than six percent of college students reported seriously considering suicide, with one percent of students reporting a suicide attempt in the previous year.
You’ll meet all kinds of people at Flagler College. We’ve narrowed it down to ten.
I may be a 60-year-old woman in a 20-year-old’s body. I am an avid coffee drinker and almost always in my pajamas by 6 p.m. Sometimes, I read for fun. I never miss my favorite shows on talk radio, and frequently make hot chocolate chip cookies for my sisters just for fun. Seriously, being a grandma is pretty great.
I am all for marriage. I think the idea of two people spending the rest of their lives with one other is not only romantic, but inspirational. But it’s important to make sure that right person is in your life before you make such a big decision.
When I walked onto Flagler Campus the first warm August afternoon I arrived here in St Augustine, I thought that graduation was the farthest possible thing in my future. All I had ahead of me were the friends and memories I would make to last a lifetime.
For Alexandra Evans graduating from Flagler College meant celebrating with friends and family and reflecting on the past four years — it also meant dealing with $39,000 in student loans.
Alexander McNutt’s home is filled to the brim with paintings, sculptures and art supplies. This fine arts major discusses where he draws his inspiration from, and where he sees himself after graduating from Flagler College.
By Alyssa Menard | email@example.com
My summer job that has been supporting me and allowing me to be a full-time student was lost in the Sequester and I’m not very surprised. My job was determined on a year-to-year budget basis so when cuts are being made, naturally they go from the least important jobs up.
By Hannah Bleau | firstname.lastname@example.org
I’ll never forget the chaos that erupted in my COM 251 class at the beginning of this semester. A girl walked in late and caused a huge scene, telling the teacher off and throwing a trashcan out the classroom door.
By Katy Stang | email@example.com
It was 11 p.m. on a Thursday night and I, a 20 year-old college junior, was sitting in the library sobbing uncontrollably while editing a class project. Now, I know what you are thinking and no, I am not an emotional fool. It was something else. I had hit my metaphorical wall. The wall that appears when you have reached the limit of stress and utter BS that you are drowning in, and boy was I drowning.