Community. Comfort. Connection

The House is a safe, welcoming space for international and BIPOC students at Middlebury College. Since its founding in 2018, it has served as a bridge between students and the wider Middlebury community—offering everything from shared meals and meaningful conversations to rides to the airport, a warm bed during breaks, post-graduation transitions, and celebrations like Holidays at the House and Uno & Undoing. More than just a place, the House is a source of connection, comfort, and support that enriches students’ lives throughout their undergraduate journey and beyond.

When you come to The House, there are some things you can count on. You’re going to eat good food. Annette is a skilled and adventurous cook who brings heart, curiosity, and care to every dish she prepares. She makes it a point to learn recipes from a wide range of cultures and isn’t afraid to try something new. Whether it’s Ethiopian injera and doro wat, Mexican chilaquiles, or a classic American Thanksgiving dinner, students gather eagerly around the table, plates full and spirits lifted. The diversity in her cooking mirrors the community itself—vibrant, global, and full of stories. Annette’s meals are more than just food; they’re a source of comfort, connection, and celebration. As she likes to say, and hashtag, she’s always #cookingwiththeholyspirit—and anyone who’s tasted her dishes would agree. It’s this kind of nourishment, both literal and emotional, that makes the House feel like home.

You’re going to laugh when you’re at The House. Maybe it’ll be because someone just broke a cascaróne over your head during a celebration, confetti raining down as everyone cheers and laughs. Or maybe it’s because someone played the wrong card in a heated game of Exploding Kittens and dramatically lost, sparking a roomful of teasing and uproarious laughter. Sometimes it’s the impromptu karaoke sessions—voices raised with pride and absolutely no concern for pitch—or a group spontaneously breaking into song while cooking, dancing, or doing dishes. But more often, the laughter comes quietly, naturally—when you're curled up on the couch, sipping tea and talking with someone who just gets you. It bubbles up in the comfort of being fully yourself, in a space where you’re not just accepted, but celebrated. You laugh because the pressure is off, the masks are down, and you’re surrounded by people who care. You laugh because, for the first time in a long time, you’re home.

And that’s another thing you can always count on when you visit The House: you will be welcomed—truly, wholeheartedly, and without hesitation. From the moment you step through the front door, there’s a shift. The air feels warmer, the space more alive. You’ll find that Tim and Annette don’t just manage the space—they shape it. They listen deeply and patiently. They ask how your classes are going, yes—but they’ll just as quickly ask how your heart is doing. They care about what you’re working on, but even more about who you are becoming. Their compassion isn’t performative; it’s quiet, consistent, and unwavering. They remember your favorite dish, the city you miss, the small victories you didn’t think anyone noticed. And when you’ve had a long day or a hard week, and you show up tired and unsure of yourself, there will always be someone there to say, “Come in. Sit down. Eat something. Tell me how you’re doing.”

Sometimes, The House comes to you. It’s not only a place you go to—it’s a presence that travels, reaching out across campus to find you right where you are. On Sunday afternoons, when the pace of the week begins to slow and students start to settle into their routines (or their piles of homework), you might hear a knock on the door or get a message letting you know that something special is headed your way. Maybe it’s a tray of warm pastries still fragrant from Annette’s oven, a container of stew wrapped in foil to keep it hot, or a plate of treats from someone’s culture that they just had to share. Sometimes, it's not even about the food—though that never hurts. Sometimes, it's just Tim and Annette stopping by to check in, to ask how you're doing, or to say, “We’ve been thinking of you.” New students often experience this for the first time with a mix of surprise and delight. Because whether you’re stepping into The House or it’s stepping into your world, the message is always the same: you matter here.