At their sold-out show at Portland’s State Theatre on Oct. 20, Big Thief, a Brooklyn-based indie-folk band, had a message for �ֲ���ý: “Thanks for all the love,” said Buck Meek, guitarist and vocalist. “Sorry we couldn’t make it yesterday.”

This was followed by an explosive cheer from the audience, which included a lot of �ֲ���ý students. Then lead vocalist Adrianne Lenker chimed in. “It’s been amazing to watch what you’ve been doing,” she said. “Thanks for playing our songs.”

What led up to this moment? It was the result of more than a year of student creativity, community, and persistence that began as a simple solution to a problem in �ֲ���ý’ music scene. 

During the fall of 2024, Audrey Cole ’26 of Minneapolis, Minn., Jonah Yaffe ’26 of Dallas, and Stella Gould ’25 were looking for a way to showcase musicians on campus who weren’t part of existing bands. Cole and Yaffe are the co-presidents (or “emperors,” as they call themselves) of the �ֲ���ý Musicians’ Union this year. BMU is an active and large organization; they regularly put on concerts, connect musicians, and collaborate with the student-run radio station and literary magazine, snaggletooth. If you ask most �ֲ���ý students, they can likely rattle off a list of BMU founded bands. Blue Razz Sassafras, Don’t Teller, Cole and Yaffe’s own band, The Lot Lizards, often perform in house basements, in local bars, and even at school-run events, like last year’s Gala. These bands are the club’s bread and butter, but Cole knew there were more musicians at �ֲ���ý, with a lot to offer, but no regular band to play with. She’s met some at BMU general meetings and encountered others socially.

“There are so many people I talk to who don’t even go to the meetings but who want to perform and play with a band and just don’t have the capacity,” says Cole.

Here was the solution: a one-night-only collaborative concert, where anyone could sign up to join a band for a day and take part in an all-day outdoor show. There had been single bands playing on Mount David before, but this time they were looking for it to expand to a collective concert They needed something to capture the essence of �ֲ���ý and get people excited. 

Enter Big Thief, a Brooklyn-based indie-folk band, fronted by hyper-specific and poetic lyricist Adrianne Lenker, with an extensive acoustic and electric catalog. The band had played Portland’s State Theatre in Feb. 2023, drawing a packed crowd that included �ֲ���ý students and alumni. “�ֲ���ý has a big crunch element,” Cole says, referring to the large sector of the campus population who can be seen on any given day wearing Blundstones as they carry their cross-country ski bags to their environmental justice class. “So people are definitely listening to Big Thief. I went to see them freshman year, and a million �ֲ���ý kids and �ֲ���ý grads living in Portland were at that concert. So it was evident they were big here.” 

The first Big Thief tribute concert at �ֲ���ý took place in October 2024 on Mount David. It was a cold October afternoon, but dozens of students showed up in puffer coats and beanies, staying past sunset to sing along to the songs they knew so well, their phone flashlights waving in their hands. “It was so special,” Yaffe says, “People still tell me it was their favorite night of the year. And then this summer I was looking back on photos and really wanted to commemorate it somehow. It just felt like something that should keep happening.”

When planning this year’s show, they considered other groups, like maybe a Beatles or Wilco night, but nothing seemed like it could quite capture the same energy. So Yaffe decided to take things a step further. He created an Instagram account () dedicated to the project, posting photos and video of last year’s performance every day, along with hoping to catch the band’s attention, and maybe get them to show up to campus. They even offered some food recommendations from Commons, glimpses of a logo for the event, and a video from Mount Katahdin.

“Buck Meek ended up following me, and I actually got in contact with their team,” Yaffe says. “They gave us special permission to listen to their new album early, sent us signed vinyl and posters, and I was emailing with their manager for a while.”

This year’s Big Thief tribute concert  was scheduled for October 19, the day before the band’s tour date in Portland, and it was even bigger than last year’s. “People we had never met before showed up,” Cole said, “Like so many people.”

People showed up to Big Thief’s show the next day, too. About 2,000 of them. So it was very rewarding to hear Meek shout out �ֲ���ý live on stage, but Yaffe says that the Instagram account means a lot more to him than a connection to the band. “I like that I can scroll back on it and see all these absolutely amazing memories from this amazing night,” he says, “It’s like a public scrapbook. It’s great.” 

Like @bates_plays_big_thief, the new tradition of Big Thief night has gone beyond just a love for the band. It’s a chance to come together, meeting with friends and strangers on Mount David to create something. It is a marker of community, and a reminder that even during midterms, and the time when days get shorter, there is still space for spontaneity and joy in the outdoors. It’s about the feeling of being in a crowd where everyone is singing the same words. It’s the type of evening that makes �ֲ���ý feel small in the best way.  

Here at �ֲ���ý, our physical landscape complements our intellectual and social environments, where engagement happens inside and outside the classroom, as well as on and off the field. Walk through these moments with us. We’re players on the stage, and we’re making contributions.

Racism has “always been a part of America itself, and so that touches all of us,” said Lecturer in History Andrew Baker during a faculty panel discussion offering historical perspectives after the violence in Charlottesville. (Theophil Syslo/�ֲ���ý College)

Associate Professor of Psychology Krista Aronson reads to her daughter Hope, 2, in Ladd Library. Aronson and a �ֲ���ý team recently debuted the Diverse BookFinder, a search engine for diverse children’s picture books. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College)

Senior golf captain Bennett Saltzman of Dobbs Ferry, N.Y., watches his drive during a practice at Martindale Country Club in Auburn. (Theophil Syslo/�ֲ���ý College) 

Andrea Hepfinger '21 of Madison, Wis., walks the course at Martindale Country Club in Auburn, the home of �ֲ���ý’ golf teams. (Theophil Syslo/�ֲ���ý College) 

A big crowd turned out for a discussion on women in leadership sponsored by the Boston �ֲ���ý Network in Boston, with panelists, from left, former trustee Jennifer Guckel Porter ’88 (moderator), managing partner at The Boda Group; Katie Burke ’03, chief people officer at HubSpot; Peggy Koenig P’17, managing partner and co-CEO at Abry Partners; and �ֲ���ý trustee Lisa Utzschneider ’90, former chief revenue officer at Yahoo. (Paige Brown for �ֲ���ý College)

How in the world was I supposed to navigate these next four years: manage to get straight A’s, make friends, play football, sleep, and find time to get involved, all while trying to make my law school application more compelling than the next?

Walter Washington ’19 of Fleetwood, N.Y., president of the �ֲ���ý College Student Government, gives the welcome address to the Class of 2021 during Convocation. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College)

There is no way, absolutely no way, that I could have persevered through such an ordeal without being a part of the community that is �ֲ���ý.

�ֲ���ý is more than just a college, it’s an accepting, strong, encouraging community and filled with people that you will someday call your family.

Walter Washington ’19 of Fleetwood, N.Y., president of the �ֲ���ý College Student Government, talks with President Clayton Spencer before processing on the Historic Quad for Convocation 2017 (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College)

Kelsey McDermott ’17 of Boston didn’t start playing ice hockey until her first year at �ֲ���ý.

“A senior goalie threw me in the net and said, ‘Let’s give this a try.’ And I fell in love with it,” says McDermott.

Three years later, she’s a co-captain of the 11-0 women’s club ice hockey team, which has its final regular-season game at 2 p.m. Feb. 12  at Underhill Arena vs. the University of New England.

The �ֲ���ý team is a happy mix of beginners and more experienced players led by a coach who didn’t play hockey until he was 21.

“I’m kind of glad I got into it late because a lot of the women on the team got into it late,” says Jon Anctil, a Lewiston native and former member of the college’s grounds crew. “So I can relate with the frustrations and everything else.”

On Wednesday night, as gym rats smoothly finished their workouts in the Davis Fitness Center upstairs in Underhill Arena, a far less graceful activity began down on the ice: intramural broomball.

Broomball is “like hockey for people who can’t skate,” says Spencer Wallace ’17 of Madison, Wis., captain of the Worldstar Broomball intramural team. In one of two games on a recent evening, Worldstar played the Swedish House Mafia. “Even if you’re good at broomball, you’re not really good at broomball.

“But that’s the fun of it.”

Ross Richins '17 of the Salt Cats displays his sliding strategy.

From the bench, the Salt Cats broomball team cheers their teammates as they advance the ball.

Students gather at Underhill Arena for intramural broomball on Jan. 25.

Worldstar Broomball captain Spencer Wallace '17 celebrates after scoring the only goal of their game vs. Swedish House Mafia.

Speed and control are keys to broomball success. But you don't have to have either.

In broomball, players wearing sneakers bat around an inflatable ball, about the size of a soccer ball. The sticks resemble those used in field hockey, except the bottom looks like a car windshield ice scraper. Each team has six players, and the games are 36 minutes long.

Like most sports, speed and control are keys to broomball success. But having neither holds back no one.

For Salt Cats player Ross Richins ’17 of Westerly, R.I., hitting the ball while standing is a challenge so he spends the game sliding around on his knees. “You gotta slide all day,” he explains.

Pointing to his new kneepads, Richins says he went padless during the team’s first game last week and “couldn’t walk for about two days. So I got these today, and I’m rolling solid.”

Andrew Moreau ’17 of Waccabuc, N.Y., captain of the Salt Cats, was sidelined with a bum shoulder, injured in last week’s Puddle Jump. Despite his team’s loss to Sweep or Skull, Moreau remains optimistic.

“We were too hot, too hot,” he explains. “But we’ll come back humble and we’ll crush it.”

From Naima: As the semester ends, it seems appropriate to give you all a quick little recap. This has been a busy couple of months; I guess taking five classes, working three jobs, and wanting to soak up every �ֲ���ý moment before going abroad might have been a bit much. I went on more sunrise paddles, sang in , frequented football games, and attended some wonderful dance parties.

I also went to class. I read Aristotle, explored intoxication, examined the human body, recounted black histories, and recorded literary methods. But now as I write to you, I have finished my four term papers and am beginning my week of tests with little worry. My lack of worry is not because I am excited to sit down for hours with a pencil in hand, pouring my thoughts and revelations from these courses into a blue booklet. Instead, I am drifting between stress and freedom, agony and excitement. Now don’t get me wrong, part of me actually enjoys spending late nights in PGill and the Ronj, inhaling caffeine until I place the last period on the page; but sleep is nice too.