Cobbers on the Brain

This semester has been nothing short of transformative. As I look back on my experience in the neurochemistry capstone course, I realize how much it has helped me grow—not just as a student, but as a thinker, a future health professional, and a more reflective person. When I enrolled in the class, I expected to learn about brain chemistry, neurotransmitters, and perhaps a few disorders. I didn’t expect that the discussions, the research, and the questions we asked would lead me to reimagine my relationship with learning, my goals for the future, and my role in the world around me.

One of the most eye-opening moments of the semester came when we studied metabolic syndrome. This paper wasn’t just scientific—it was deeply personal. I began to see how diet and lifestyle could influence not only physical health, but brain function and emotional regulation. For the first time, I started asking myself questions I had never considered before. What am I feeding my brain? How do my daily choices impact my long-term well-being? Learning about the biochemical effects of diet on cognition challenged me to reflect on how I could live a more fulfilling, sustainable life. It wasn’t just about the science—it was about applying that science to my life in meaningful ways.

That connection between the brain and the world kept coming up. Every topic we explored, from dopamine pathways to the role of inflammation in behavior, circled back to a larger truth: that we are all shaped by more than just biology. Our environment, our culture, and our experiences all play roles in the chemical makeup of our minds. This realization made me even more passionate about pursuing public health as my next step. I want to take what I’ve learned and give it back to the communities that raised me, by educating people about how their health is tied to both internal and external systems—especially those who might not have access to this kind of information. This class helped me see that science isn’t just about the lab or the textbook. It’s about people. It’s about lives.

Throughout the semester, I found myself developing skills that I know will stay with me far beyond college. I learned how to analyze dense research articles, interpret complex data, and make sense of experimental design. These skills helped me see the world differently. Now, when I come across a chart or a headline, I pause to ask deeper questions. What’s the source? What are the variables? What story is the data trying to tell? These habits have made me more critical, more thoughtful, and more curious. If I were to highlight one skill on my resume that I’ve strengthened the most, it would definitely be data analysis. The ability to break down research and extract meaningful insights is something I now feel confident doing—and something I’m excited to continue refining in graduate school.

What makes this class so memorable isn’t just the knowledge I gained, but the way it encouraged me to think across disciplines. Though it was grounded in neurochemistry, the course constantly pulled in ideas from psychology, nutrition, sociology, and even philosophy. We didn’t just learn about molecules—we asked what they meant for real people in real situations. This interdisciplinary approach helped me see problems from multiple perspectives. One example that stands out was when we discussed the biochemical effects of trauma. Instead of stopping at cortisol and amygdala function, we talked about how poverty, systemic racism, and lack of access to resources can trigger those same pathways. That kind of thinking—holistic, interconnected, and human—is the kind of thinking I want to bring into my work in public health.

More than anything, this class helped me understand myself. When we read about stress, addiction, and neurological imbalances, I sometimes saw my own experiences mirrored in the science. I thought about family members, about friends, about people in my community who live with challenges that are often dismissed or misunderstood. This sparked a sense of empathy and purpose in me that I hadn’t expected. It made me want to do more than just understand the brain. It made me want to use that understanding to advocate, to educate, and to care.

Being at a liberal arts college has played a huge role in shaping this mindset. I’ve come to value the freedom to explore, to ask questions, and to draw connections across subjects. The environment at Concordia has helped me see that learning doesn’t have to be rigid or one-dimensional. It can be dynamic, creative, and deeply personal. It has shown me that education is not just about knowledge, but about transformation. It is about becoming someone who engages thoughtfully with the world.

One of the most valuable things I’ve taken from this class is the ability to solve problems by drawing from multiple disciplines. When I’m faced with a challenge now, I no longer look for a single answer from a single field. I ask how biology, psychology, and social structures might all be playing a role. I look for intersections. That mindset is something I’ll carry with me into every future classroom, clinic, and community I serve.

This class didn’t just teach me about neurotransmitters. It taught me about people, purpose, and possibility. It reminded me that the brain is not just a network of neurons—it is a reflection of the environments we live in and the lives we lead. And most importantly, it reminded me that I have the tools to make a difference. That is what learning at Concordia has given me. And that is what I hope to pass on.

I also want to give a special thank you to Professor Mach for making this year a great one!

As I begin and conclude just one last blog, I reflect upon my beloved experiences in being enrolled at Concordia college Moorhead. I have done this a few times already, but this time I will write upon this with focus on the campus’ goals. The campus has five goals they declare essential to students, to instill a love for learning in students, to develop foundational skills and transferable intellectual capacities to them, to grow an understanding of (disciplinary, interdisciplinary and intercultural) perspectives and their connections, to cultivate an examined (cultural, ethical, physical and spiritual) self-understanding, and to ensure responsible participation in the world.

Let us begin with the first goal of the school, to instill a love for learning in students. I recall with deep love a nostalgic feeling now upon entering and leaving each class. To be fair it very much became a routine eventually, as any repeated action eventually does, but this was not the sole reason for my beloved feeling to dig deep. The environment is comfortable and encouraging in the liberal classrooms, I almost never felt uncomfortable to ask and answer questions. All in all, I very much love to learn, and I will continue to pursue it.

Next, let us continue with the second goal of the school, to develop foundational skills and transferable intellectual capacities to them. I do not know where to begin with this one, not because Concordia College lacks in this department at all, but because there are a wide myriad of potentially applicable skills that I could potentially list that I do not know where to really begin listing; though, I will try now. There were basic and transferable skills and applicable knowledge for sure, such as respect for science and lab equipment (I am a Neuroscience major myself), a deep dive into the abstracts for mathematics (as a math minor student), and perhaps a general sense of curiosity. However, there are also deep and foundational skills that I find myself one day reusing in my career such as a dedication and desire to lead others, a feeling of empowerment to speak up when things are not right (as I have done quite a few times), and so many more.

Next, let us continue with the third goal of the school, to grow an understanding of (disciplinary, interdisciplinary and intercultural) perspectives and their connections. As a minority in neurodivergence myself, I loved this core value of the campus, and continue to. In fact, I was even lucky enough to join our campus on a program that values diversity (I shall omit the name in case). Through this program, and through interaction with staff and students in various scenarios for various reasons I met a wide variety of kind and respectful perspectives on a wide variety of issues and topics. There seriously is no stereotypical cobber student in my student, there is almost always someone from a different country, a different cultural background, a different faith, a different person especially, from you. In the end, I really feel you cannot be a liberal campus without having liberal perspectives spread everywhere like jam on a sandwich.

Next, let us continue with the fourth goal of the school, to cultivate an examined (cultural, ethical, physical and spiritual) self-understanding. In the end, if I am understanding this value correctly, the development in the knowledge of my own sense of self and being; if I am not wrong in this interpretation, this one is a large strength of the school. All around school are very loving staff that have helped me when my sense of being felt confusing. I have laughed with them, grumbled in frustration about something small about my day with them, and even cried with them. They have comforted me deeply in many ways when the world felt off and made me feel extremely unsure about myself or a general situation. It may have felt uncomfortable in the moment since grieving really stinks at times, but I find myself far more emotionally, spiritually, culturally, and maybe even a bit physically understanding in myself in the long run. This was really good for me during a period of my life when myself, my world, and my sense of belonging amongst it was far more off to myself.

Finally, let us conclude with the final goal of the school, to ensure responsible participation in the world. Now, going in, I was plenty responsible and dedicated at the start of my education adventure so soon as June of freshman year. However, my very sense of what really is responsibility did actually feel scrambled. After all, I found myself confused and overwhelmed as to what I should do because what one kind of person says I must do will absolutely conflict against what another type of person would declare what I must do in order to be “responsible;” what it seriously means to be an adult despite the contradictions in demands. In the end, I felt myself quite confused in these social games until Concordia College gave me an organized and harmless four year long opportunity to independently practice alone what responsibility really means for myself. As a result of this gift, I found what works for me. I asked at least just enough questions to trusted aforementioned staff members I met with weekly, and explored the social rules I found interesting or off-putting in the many, many aspects of campus I still declare a safespace. Indeed, I do mean a safespace as Concordia College prides itself in building spaces for anyone to drop our masks and take steps back from them when the masks are hard to breathe in.

In the end, I felt myself become a more mentally organized and extra complex person in real time in my enrollment of Concordia College Moorhead. I may have had a few tough times, sure, but even those challenges served me value.

Thank you for sticking with me this one final time, readers. Thank you for reading my posts collectively in fact. As we say on campus, “It’s a great day to be a Cobber.”

As my final semester at Concordia College comes to a close, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about how my experiences have helped shape me into the person and future professional I want to be, including those in this neurochemistry course. This class has been a meaningful and impactful part of my college career because it allowed me to bring together everything I’ve learned through Concordia’s liberal arts approach, especially the CORE curriculum.

Throughout the semester, our class focused on how different chemical signaling pathways in the brain are connected to complex conditions and behaviors. We covered topics such as PTSD, schizophrenia, glioblastoma, sugar addiction, autism, and more. While the course was rooted in science, it challenged us to go beyond just understanding how the brain works. We explored how these topics impact individuals, families, and society as a whole. We also had to consider ethical questions, treatment options, and how mental health is viewed in different settings.

This approach of mixing science with real-world application fits perfectly with Concordia’s five goals for liberal learning. I saw each of these goals reflected in the course and in my growth this semester.

First, this class helped create a love for learning. Before, I didn’t expect to enjoy as much a course that focused so much on chemical signaling and brain pathways, but I ended up looking forward to each topic we covered. The more I learned, the more curious I became about how we can better support those who are living with neurological and psychological conditions. The complexity of the brain fascinates me, and I found myself wanting to keep learning even outside of class through extra research, articles, and discussions.

Second, the class helped me develop foundational skills that I’ll carry into my future career as a school counselor. One of the most important skills I strengthened was the ability to take scientific information and break it down into something that is easy to understand. As a future counselor, I’ll be working with students, teachers, and families who may not have a background in science or mental health. Being able to explain things clearly and supportively will be essential. I also developed my critical thinking and problem-solving skills, especially when it came to understanding how different parts of the brain interact.

The third goal is developing an understanding of disciplinary, interdisciplinary, and intercultural perspectives. While we studied neurochemistry, we constantly made connections to psychology, ethics, education, and even social justice issues. For example, in our unit on PTSD, we discussed not only how trauma affects the brain’s chemistry but also how it can show up in children and teens who might be experiencing toxic stress at home or in their communities. This really hit home for me, because I know as a school counselor I will work with students who are facing trauma but might not have the words to express what they’re feeling. It helped me think about how I can approach counseling with more compassion and awareness of how brain function and behavior are deeply connected.

One example that really brought multiple perspectives together was when we studied sugar and its addictive properties. We examined the dopamine system and how it’s affected by sugar in a way that mirrors other addictive substances. From a chemical perspective, it made sense, but then we also talked about how this plays into mental health, diet culture, food access, and education. It made me realize that even something as everyday as food choices can have deep psychological and physiological effects, and that these issues can’t be fully understood without looking at them through more than one lens.

The fourth goal of liberal learning is to cultivate an examined cultural, ethical, physical, and spiritual self-understanding. This class challenged me to reflect on my own beliefs and assumptions about mental illness, education, and health care. I became more aware of how stigma still exists around conditions like schizophrenia, autism, or obesity, and how important it is to advocate for those who may not be able to for themselves. As a school counselor, I want to create an environment where students feel safe and supported no matter what challenges they’re facing. This course reminded me that understanding someone’s brain chemistry can be a key part of showing empathy and reducing judgment.

Finally, this course encouraged me to responsibly participate in the world, which is the final goal of Concordia’s BREW. One of the biggest takeaways for me is that science is not just about labs and textbooks, it’s also about people. The neurochemistry we studied directly affects the lives of students I will one day work with. By understanding how trauma or disorders like autism affect the brain, I can be a more compassionate counselor. I now feel more confident that I will be able to support my students not just emotionally, but with a deeper understanding of what might be going on neurologically.

If I had to highlight one skill on my resume that I improved this semester, it would be interdisciplinary problem-solving. I was challenged to look at problems from multiple angles (scientific, emotional, social, and ethical). For example, when we studied schizophrenia, I had to think about not just the dopamine hypothesis and neurochemical imbalances, but also how someone with this condition might be treated in school, how medication plays a role, and how stigma might prevent them from getting help. This kind of thinking will help me tremendously in my counseling career, where no two students will have the same experience or needs.

In the end, learning at a liberal arts college like Concordia has meant gaining more than just academic knowledge. It’s meant growing as a person and becoming more curious, more empathetic, and more prepared to make a difference in the world. I’m thankful that I had the chance to take a class like this that challenged me to think deeply and connect science with real life. It’s a perfect example of what Concordia means by becoming responsibly engaged in the world.

If I could sum up this semester in a single word, it would be: chaotic.
But in the best, most Concordia-core-curriculum, liberally-educated way possible.

When I first signed up for this class, I expected the usual: some readings, some papers, a few discussion boards, and the occasional group project drama (you know the kind). What I didn’t expect was how much this class would actually reflect my entire college journey—equal parts confusion, curiosity, creativity, and yes, caffeine.

Let’s start with a confession: there were more than a few times this semester when I read an article and thought, “What on EARTH are they saying?” I’d stare at the screen, highlight a paragraph, and still be left wondering if the author was speaking English or summoning a philosophical demon. I mean, who knew academic writing could sound like it was translated from Latin to Morse code to Shakespearean English and then given to us?

But weirdly enough, that confusion was part of the fun. Every article I didn’t understand became a personal challenge. I’d dive into group discussions half-lost, half-curious, hoping someone else was also struggling (they usually were), and together we’d decode the texts like amateur detectives with no flashlight. Spoiler alert: sometimes we figured it out. Sometimes we didn’t. But the process of trying, laughing, and talking it through? That’s where the magic happened.

The Joy of Blogging Through It All

One of the biggest highlights for me was creating our blog posts. I didn’t expect to enjoy them as much as I did, but each post became a mini creative outlet. They let me take big ideas from class, blend them with my own personality, and write something that felt authentic. Whether I was venting about the brain gymnastics required to read certain texts or reflecting on how they connected to my life, I felt free to be honest, thoughtful, and even a little goofy.

There’s something powerful about being able to say, “I don’t fully get this… but here’s what I do see, and here’s how it connects to my world.” It reminded me that academic learning doesn’t have to be stiff or perfect—it can be messy, personal, and even funny. Honestly, I felt more connected to what I was learning because I was allowed to process it in my voice.

Learning (Even When I Didn’t Know I Was Learning)

Despite all the moments of confusion, I was constantly learning—sometimes without even realizing it. This class helped me practice two huge life skills: how to make meaning out of the abstract and how to communicate clearly about complicated things. Even when I didn’t fully “get” something, I learned to ask better questions, dig deeper, and keep engaging instead of checking out.

That perseverance? That intellectual grit? That’s pure liberal arts energy. It’s the reason I now approach difficult content with curiosity instead of panic. And trust me, future me—whether in grad school, the workforce, or just arguing with someone on Reddit—is going to appreciate that skill.

Liberal Arts = Learning How to Think, Not What to Think

If someone asked me what it means to study at a liberal arts college like Concordia, I’d tell them this: it means learning how to think, not what to think. It means caring about the connections between ideas, between people, and between disciplines.

This semester, I was constantly bouncing between different perspectives—ethical, cultural, spiritual, historical—and trying to find common threads. I saw how philosophy can inform science, how religion can influence politics, and how self-awareness can change how we engage with the world. One week I was wrestling with systemic injustice, the next I was reflecting on personal values, and somehow it all clicked together by the end.

That’s the beauty of this kind of education. It doesn’t give you one narrow path—it hands you a map and says, “Go explore. Oh, and take snacks.”

Skills That Snuck Up on Me

If I had to highlight one skill that seriously leveled up this semester, it would be adaptive communication—basically, knowing how to explain stuff to different kinds of people. Whether it was breaking down a dense reading in class, writing a creative blog post, or working on a team presentation, I learned how to shift my tone, language, and approach depending on the audience. That’s chef’s kiss valuable in the real world.

And speaking of the real world…

Solving Problems with a Multidisciplinary Brain

One powerful example of applying multiple perspectives was our discussion on obesity. At first glance, it seems like a health or science issue—but it’s so much more than that.

Culturally, food is tied to tradition, identity, and family. “Eating healthier” isn’t just a personal choice—it can feel like breaking from your roots. Economically, not everyone has access to fresh, affordable food. It’s hard to eat clean when fast food is cheaper than vegetables and grocery stores are miles away.

Psychologically, obesity often links to stress, trauma, and mental health struggles. Ethically, we have to ask why junk food is so heavily marketed in low-income areas and who benefits from that. Even spiritually, many people view health through the lens of caring for the body as a gift or responsibility.

That conversation showed me how complex real-world issues are—and how effective solutions need voices from every field. No single perspective is enough on its own, but together, they paint a fuller picture and offer more compassionate, lasting answers.

The Final BREW

So, here we are. The end of the semester. The final blog post. And what a ride it’s been.

This class didn’t just help me wrap up my time at Concordia—it helped me live out what BREW is all about. Becoming responsibly engaged in the world isn’t about having all the answers. It’s about being willing to show up with your questions, your voice, your humility, and your hope. It’s about learning with others, making sense of complexity, and finding ways to contribute meaningfully, even when you feel underqualified.

Most of all, it’s about learning how to laugh through the confusion, create from chaos, and never stop asking, “What does this mean for the world I want to help build?”

This class let me do all of that. And for that, I’m thankful.