When I returned to my Manhattan school on September 13, 2001, my sixth grade history teacher told us to write. Anything that came to mind would do. For those first few days after the terrorist attacks, we had the ability, the duty even, to record history.

It seemed easier to write about 9/11 back then, when the feelings were raw and immature. A decade later, the current generation of Yale students remembers the attacks but has also matured in a world wholly changed by them. And so as we commemorate the anniversary of 9/11, I felt it important to offer Yale students the same opportunity my teacher gave me ten years ago. To write. Bahij Chancey was at school just blocks away from the Towers, while David McNeill was living in Saudi Arabia. Esther Zuckerman realized personal pain is not a prerequisite for powerful memory. Clare Sestanovich channeled that memory toward one man alone.

Ten years later, we are youth growing up with the specter of 9/11. So too, two years later, we are Yalies haunted by the murder of a classmate. As the Annie Le case has reopened with a lawsuit against Yale, Everett Rosenfeld explores his own psychological and journalistic fascination with the man who killed her.

Tragedy can mark our youth, but it doesn’t slow us down. We continue to set off on our summer vacations, to journey through Europe, following in the path of a different Lost Generation. We watch the New Haven Open, a tennis tournament on its last legs when Yale offered support. We Google random words during our internships, internships for which we may very well be unqualified.

A new crop of magazine editors will have taken charge by the next issue. I’d like to offer my gratitude and congratulations to my co-editor, Naina Saligram ’11. Thank you to all our writers, editors, illustrators, designers, and most of all, our readers. This issue explores the events that have shaped our youth. I’ve been lucky enough to have my past year shaped by all of you.