It’s week ten here at Drexel, the official last week of the term. It’s been an interesting quarter, though in the winter months everything seems a bit lackluster. As the warmer days are approaching, I’ve found some burst of energy in my academic life. Not only was I finally able to figure out what to write for final papers, but the discussions in two of my classes this week were more vibrant and satisfying than ever.In Theatre History II, we finished the term with reading Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom. It was refreshing to have an entire class engaged in a conversation about the meaning of art, race relations, the scope of a playwright, and poetic license. I was most inspired to make this post based on a class I just had this morning, the History of Science II. Today’s lecture focused on different theories of the universe (Big Bang and what have you) – most of which can be over my head at times. Regardless, there I was sitting in a classroom with professors and students having a conversation about human existence, about all existence. As the discussion progressed, there was a flurry of hands being raised. Some spoke of Francis Bacon, some of Einstein, and some of Kurt Vonnegut. I sat and thought about my experience abroad in London last term as one student was going on about different theories in physics, a language fairly foreign for me. I remembered walking around Westminster Abbey and being completely taken aback by the scope of the people resting for all eternity inside its walls – kings, queens, poets, diplomats, generals, and scientists. Sir Isaac Newton and Charles Darwin lay side-by-side in the same room as Winston Churchill. That memory really meant something in the context of my class, a history class. Science, religion, and art can and do have their places together, often in unlikely circumstances and sometimes where they can happily take you by surprise. Regardless of what people believe or what sciences they adhere to, there should always at least be a conversation.