The Iron Ring means more to me than most undergraduate students can imagine.
All students will obtain a certificate of graduation, but those belonging to a certain faculty will receive a tangible symbol to signify the successful completion of their program - something beyond the thick piece of paper that is to be framed and hung up in the living room.
All students will obtain a certificate of graduation, but those belonging to a certain faculty will receive a tangible symbol to signify the successful completion of their program - something beyond the thick piece of paper that is to be framed and hung up in the living room.
For me, and maybe select others in the discipline, the Iron Ring is representative of 6 years - maybe 4 or 5 (or 5.5) for some students - of toilsome, never-ending work as well as physical and mental demand.
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The Iron Ring is exclusive to those who have survived - might I add, miraculously - the ceaseless challenges and persevered past the ongoing obstacles posed toward them. It is an element unable to be purchased even at the highest bid, and irreplaceable by any other means of accessory.
The Iron Ring was obtained solely through the endless efforts and determination put forth by the user himself or herself. For this reason, it is an object bearing more significance than any other ring.
The Iron Ring was earned by my own blood, sweat, and tears.
(No Kpop pun intended.)
The Iron Ring was obtained solely through the endless efforts and determination put forth by the user himself or herself. For this reason, it is an object bearing more significance than any other ring.
The Iron Ring was earned by my own blood, sweat, and tears.
(No Kpop pun intended.)
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Leading up to the big day, I had requested a Ring Presenter of my own, as opposed to one of the Camp Wardens on site. The gymnasium was horribly frigid and inefficiency of arrangements was at an all-time high. Though none of this really matters at the end.
Bestowed upon me towards the end of the 3-hour-long Kipling ceremony was a fragment of Cold Iron bearing responsiblity, righteousness, and humble pride.
Bestowed upon me towards the end of the 3-hour-long Kipling ceremony was a fragment of Cold Iron bearing responsiblity, righteousness, and humble pride.
To say that I did not struggle to obtain this ring would be fibbing to the extreme degree. Countless times did I question my computing and critical thinking capabilities relative to my peers. The power of Jinyoung's words was strong though, so one can conclude that my success was partially owed to GOT7 too (Hehe).
Kipling finally concluded in the late afternoon, at which point I was more than eager to bolt off ceremonial grounds and dive straight into a Spinach Feta Wrap.
Hovering just about the freezing point, Hamilton weather was no comrade as we snapped several shots around the campus. We were shivering progressively with each photo, though a departure could not be made until the final satisfactory portraits were secured.
Hovering just about the freezing point, Hamilton weather was no comrade as we snapped several shots around the campus. We were shivering progressively with each photo, though a departure could not be made until the final satisfactory portraits were secured.
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The celebration took place at REDS.
Their Flash Roasted Chicken had resulted a memorable first visit, so we voted in favour of bringing along an out-of-towner for another stab at their menu.
Their Flash Roasted Chicken had resulted a memorable first visit, so we voted in favour of bringing along an out-of-towner for another stab at their menu.
Ravioli & Garlic Shrimp was one of the two Small Plates to start. As with the Wild Mushroom soup, it arrived with shocking swiftness. Exactly four sets of ricotta ravioli and sundried tomato sofrito-topped shrimp found their way onto the narrow platter. The cheesy filling of the ravioli paired exceptionally with the tart, salsa-like condiment. Known not to be the fondest of shellfish in general, the slight crunch of the individual pieces of cooked shrimp had be taken back; it varied remarkably from the overcooked morsels of toughness I was used to seeing - or tasting, for that matter.
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Beetroot Hummus was my suggestion. The vivid magenta hue undoubtedly added visual appeal, as did the few (tasteless) slices of watermelon radish. Sodium-laden corners of pita crisps were too tiny to effectively scoop out the hummus, so we primarily resorted to fresh cucumber slices and carrots to accomplish the task at hand. Generally, chickpea hummus is found to be satiating and mushy, but the chunky consistency and addition of red beets served to lighten its profile whilst maintaining zest.
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