My journey from Harvard dreams to Emory realities
As I reflect on my first six months at Emory, I am struck by the profound impact the school has had on my journey of self-discovery.
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Ode to words left unspoken
A close friend of mine, one I attribute with saving my life, took her own on April 4, 2021. She was 17 years old. A letter she wrote me is the one thing I brought from home to place on my dorm wall. Oxford lost one of its students a mere month before I stepped on campus. I never knew her.
Read MoreBeing boundless, reliable, radiant as a college student
My unique position as a low-income student has amplified the gratitude I feel for Emory, and I should not discredit my love for the Emory community simply because my experience is not shared with as many people.
Read MoreWith nothing left to lose: Reinventing myself in a queer bubble
In search of a sense of belonging and identity, I fell in love with chasing after a disc as quickly as I got shin splints and with the same passion I once had writing and editing for this paper.
Read MoreThe barbed wire guarding community, care, compassion
I struggle with being vulnerable in front of others and mourn moments of self-perceived weakness. Yet the wonderful thing about this world is its ability to fully transform perspectives at the opening of a door. Last November, I entered a prison for the first time. A prison is one of those things that, until I saw and felt it, was hard for me to conceptualize its existence in the world where I also live.
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