We go to school in a tropical paradise

At UM, it’s hard to say we’ve got it rough.

Between lounging on the gliders, drinking Starbucks by the lake and taking that group project on the road to hit up South Beach, it’s easy to see why at one point Miami was called “Suntan U.”

While UM certainly has shed its old reputation as a school where students hit the beach instead of the books, that doesn’t mean we haven’t struck a balance between the two. Nowadays, we’ve found a way to get our sun in while keeping up with classes: hanging out on our beautiful campus.

As a sophomore at the U who grew up in New Hampshire, I’ve grown accustomed to luxuries like lounging in the hammocks during finals and laying in the grass in the middle of the Foote Green before class – things I would’ve never been able to do during the winter up north.

In fact, between applying sunscreen every day and leaving sweaters and boots back at home, many students who grew up somewhere with actual seasons wonder if they’ve become spoiled during their time at the U.

The snow is beautiful – but we thank our lucky stars we’re carrying an umbrella to class, not an ice scraper.

While accustomed to sprinkling salt on the roads up north to melt the ice, the only things that sprinkle down here are the unexpected rainshowers that leave students ducking for cover, covering their heads with newspapers and palm tree fronds.

Ask any Yankee who’s come down here for school and they’ll tell you: there’s nothing fun about being stuck in your house during a blizzard. Besides Netflix.

And yes, to survive the cold you’ve got to develop a sturdy sense of humor, along with a diverse collection of moisturizers, heel cream and Chapstick.

As a result, the snowbirds that flock down here have an even greater appreciation of the Coral Gables climate.

Sure, leaving the nest can be hard – but the perks of Snapchatting friends and family back home with pictures of the sun in the sky while their stories are filled with shovels, icicles and cocoa make the move worth it.

Returning from holiday breaks, we catch ourselves letting out a sigh of relief to be back in the 305 – traffic jams, city stress and all.

MIA becomes a hotspot for our great migration back to the U. After shuffling to find our luggage and calling an Uber, we’re thankful that we can ditch three or four layers of clothes and slip back on our flip-flops.

It’s not that we don’t work as hard as our colder counterparts, it’s just that we’ve mastered the art of relaxation, too. We become accustomed to the heat and start not to notice the humidity that suffocates those who come to visit us.

And hey, becoming the tannest of our family members helps – and it’s a lot easier to bring sunglasses and sunscreen to a football game than layers of jackets and scarves.

While Miami may never truly be where we’re from, it does a great job of feeling like a resort we happen to study at – something we’re proud to represent when home for Thanksgiving and Christmas break.

No matter where we’re from originally, the U becomes our second home. It’s a retreat from sleet and snowmen that welcomes us with open (and warm) arms.

We may not have our hats and mittens anymore, but we’ve certainly got bragging rights.