I don’t know a lot about politics here in the United States, but back in my home country, Brazil, politics is such a touchy subject that it can make families break apart, lifelong friendships end and even wearing a specific t-shirt color can cause a huge discussion. Yes, it is that bad.

The worst part is how the whole political system in Brazil is corrupt. The most important people in this system are involved in some type of corruption. The United Nations estimates that Brazil loses $60 billion per year due to corruption. That makes the population, or at least me, not have faith in the system and not even want to understand how it works. In the end it feels like there’s nothing I can do to help.

Another issue in the middle of all this mess is that we don’t know whom we can trust. There are so many official channels that share fake news that seems so true that most of the population believes it. With social media, this fake news is all over the country within minutes and in Brazil no one really thinks about checking sources. But who can blame the population? There are 11.8 million illiterate people in the country, and 52 million Brazilians live below the poverty line. It is easy to mislead an illiterate and starving population.

Another problem, is how we never actually learn anything about this topic in school and as soon we are 18 we are obligated to vote. This lack of political education gives people wrong assumptions and maybe that’s how my country got to the way it is right now. People are easily manipulated by politicians, and they don’t even realize.

One of the reasons I came to the U.S. is because I wanted to run away from all that mess. But at the end of the day I’m still Brazilian, which means that during this year’s election I need to fulfill my duty as a Brazilian citizen and vote. Yet, I have no idea who would be a good option and I don’t know how to look for the ideal candidate.

To be honest, I wish there was a less stressful way to deal with this, but there’s not. So the only thing I can do right now is go out on a search for the candidate I think will be the best. If they are actually the best option, they will probably not get elected, because that’s how things usually go in my country.

Of course, there are people who ignore the facts and even ignore the evidence that surrounds them. These people are ignorant. Sorry to be blunt, but it’s true. Our sea levels should not be rising, animals should not be going extinct, we should not be having extreme weather worldwide and the global temperature should not be rising at the rate it currently is. Hurricane Harvey and Hurricane Irma, both Category 5 storms, should not have occurred within a week of each other. These are two deadly examples of the earth rebelling against the abuse it has endured from human life. We did this to ourselves, and it is up to us to save the only place we can exist.

According to NASA, when the earth moved in and out of ice ages over a million years ago, the global temperature rose a total of seven degrees celsius over the span of 5,000 years. In the past century alone, the global temperature has risen 0.7 degrees celsius, 10 times the rate of average global temperature changes. So, what are we as a species doing wrong?

On Earth, human activities are changing the global temperature. The amount of carbon dioxide (CO2) in our atmosphere is absolutely bonkers. The burning of fossils fuels, such as coal and oil, has increased the amount of CO2 in our atmosphere. Some harmful and inhumane activities that contribute to the excess CO2 in our atmosphere include deforestation and driving cars. Deforestation is a huge contributor because trees convert CO2 into oxygen, an obvious necessity for human survival.

Industrial livestock agriculture is another huge contributor to global climate change. If every single person on Earth went vegan for a week, we could probably stop climate change in its tracks. Raising cows, pigs and chickens generates excessive greenhouse gas emissions, as much as cars, trucks and all automobiles combined.

With the route we are currently taking, it doesn’t seem like the earth can take much more of this abuse, so what can humans do to stop this? We have to switch to a more clean and efficient source of energy. I mean there is this huge orb of gas that our planet circles constantly. Maybe we could put it to good use. Solar energy perhaps? I’m just spitballing here.

People need to stop using so much coal and oil and convert to more sustainable means. More people need to recycle, switch to battery powered cars, use less heat and air conditioning, drive less, take shorter showers, wash larger loads of laundry and walk or use public transportation as much as possible. These are all such simple things that could save the lives of humans, animals and plants alike. This is the only Earth we’ll ever have, and it’s up to us to save it.

As I write this, I am sitting outside with my friends Ben and Rylan on the steps of Curry Hall. Rylan is aggressively working on a research paper, and Ben is relaxing for a change. The smooth April breeze is gentle now. It moves serendipitously through the trees, the grass and the flowers, and it adds a certain flavor to an already tasteful day. As I continue writing, a hawk soars overhead. Its curiously large shadow frightens me, but I have the last laugh as it arrogantly attempts to confront a strong headwind with minimal success.

My attention then turns to the grass. As I recall, it was freshly mowed this morning. It is colored deep emerald in such a manner that it soothes the soul and makes one feel at peace. The checkerboard pattern in the grass adds a certain sense of formidability to its appearance. Oddly though, this only adds to its inherent beauty. Despite my own affinity for the grass, it is clear that there are others who do not feel the same way. I watch with utter horror as two ruffians walk across the grass. They notice my displeasure and proceed to call me out. A disagreement of sorts ensues, but, thankfully, it is quickly resolved. I would hate to cause a spat on such a beautiful day.

Disgusted, I glance away and happen to notice Zak Carroll in the distance, tying his shoe. He does so in a very blatant and methodical manner, a manner which is unique to him. Before I can continue my critique, I notice a leaf has blown up against my lower leg. I attempt to reach down and grab it, but a strong wind blows it into the bushes. Better luck next time. While disappointed, I am captivated by the rare appearance of a salamander. I gaze at it with a certain curiosity while its eyes emotionlessly bore into my soul. After what seems like an eternity, I unwisely make a sudden movement and it darts under Ben’s backpack. Before we can continue our investigation of the salamander, it dashes underneath the safety of a nearby pillar. Scalawag.

I turn back to my writing machine and ponder what else I could include in this piece. Immediately, I notice the trees. Yes, I have not talked about them yet. At this juncture, they are not particularly full but nonetheless demonstrate considerable potential. It is clear that they are preparing to bloom, and when they do, it will be a stupendous pageant of greenery. There is no doubt about that.

For one moment, there is peace. For one fleeting moment, all is quiet.

And then, dinner beckons.

“How is it being back?”

I’ve gotten this question almost every day since I’ve returned to William Jewell College after nine months of studying abroad at Oxford. The readjustment process is often difficult for Oxbridge students, going from an independent, driven learning environment in which students are challenged daily to chew on difficult material back to a U.S. system chalk-full of hoop-jumping, learning objectives and lectures, an atmosphere in which students are largely recipients of information that has already been chewed. Many Oxbridgers come back and are frustrated by the way Jewell holds the hands of its students through CTI class discussions, annoyed by the all-seeing eye of Student Life and irritated by mandated extraneous courses such as the ever-relevant disk golf.

So I think it surprises students and faculty when I reply, “It’s great to be back.”

And it is. I found my voice at Oxford. I learned how to synthesize arguments and enter century-old debates without having them first broken down into power-points. But I also came to terms with what Mikayla Roller can accomplish on her own.

My preferred learning style has always been reading and writing. I need to sit and read about ideas myself in order to understand them fully. So I grew weary during my sophomore year at Jewell of professors’ tangents and homework assignments and blasted group projects that failed to address larger debates and applications. I felt that my time was being wasted. “I can do it myself; I can do it myself.” From serving in sand volleyball intramural tournaments to serving coffee at @theBeak, to all my other clubs and commitments, I continually felt stretched thin. I loved all of these activities, but I saw them as mutually exclusive to the schoolwork I was pursuing. While enjoyable, I always saw them as detracting from my individual aim for knowledge. The hand-holding inside and outside the classroom at Jewell was stressful; it was stifling.

I miss fish and chip Fridays at Mansfield—yes, that was a thing—, Oxford’s libraries and easily accessible food trucks on my route home from Oxford’s libraries. Yet, I don’t miss Oxford’s style of learning like I thought I would. In England, I came face-to-face with my own limitations. Diminishing returns set in as I tried to teach myself the mechanisms behind international finance. Meeting with an unfamiliar tutor once a week often failed to inspire me. Ideas that I processed did not have the transformative power that they once had at Jewell. I think this is because there was no community turning these ideas into reality and making them a part of daily existence. Concepts were largely kept in the confines of books and libraries and essays. The sheer number of ideas I could individually explore was no longer motivating. It was terrifying. “I can’t do this myself; I can’t do this myself.”

Since I’ve been back on the Hill, I’ve realized that tutoring and homecoming activities and sorority meetings serve as mental-health breaks that actually aid me in my pursuit of knowledge and wisdom. During econometrics lectures that seem disjointed and CTI capstone discussions that get off-topic, I remind myself that these seminars are being given by individuals who are experts in their fields of study. Class discussions provide opportunities for me to articulate ideas and hear diverging viewpoints that often carry over into caf-debates and PLC porch chats. I focus on the nuggets I can accrue from each class session and recognize how lectures and discussions shape and inspire my own theories. The hand that I once found somewhat suffocating has become elevating. Working with professors who I know and who know me is freeing. The sisters I live with may not understand all of me or all of the experiences I’ve had over the last year, but they love me. This caring community is what facilitates learning. And I could not create that environment on my own.

Maybe I’m seeing everything through rose-colored glasses because the faces on the Hill and the unexplored places in Kansas City seem new, inviting and exciting. I may miss being only a face in a sea of students when I’m unable to hide from my professors during finals week, professors who see that I’m putting paper-writing on hold to engage in Operation bouncy-castle on the quad (should we start petitioning Student Senate for its return now or later?).

The glow emitting from this place of learning may fade in my eyes.

But maybe it won’t.