PERSONAL ESSAYS
One Week Off

Seven words told the story, more than justifying the expensive round trip from O’Hare to LaGuardia, the weeklong suspension of campus activities at the inopportune mid-semester, the utterly incomprehensible response from friends and faculty who hadn’t shouldered more than a century of false hope, learned anguish and dreams — little boy dreams, indefinitely deferred. The Cubs are in the World Series.

Graham Ambrose
Laundry in Beijing

I curled up in the chair, finding comfort in the overlapping shadows cast by the canopy of laundry. More than once, I fell asleep here. The next morning, we’d take in the dried laundry, inhaling the acrid sweet of Beijing-polluted sunshine.

A Gallery Tucked Away

Reading this guest book, looking at old letters and pictures, listening to my French teacher, I began to curate a different type of gallery in my mind. Not the type that would be exhibited in a museum, not one that most people would ever even see, but a gallery all the same.

Siddhi Surana
Horseshoe Cove

When I was 12, I unwittingly discovered the edge of time. Horseshoe Cove was a narrow shoreline that peeled off the western side of a main barrier spit that separated the Lower New York Bay from the Atlantic Ocean.

Chi Cerca Trova: Who Searches, Finds

We all get lost in our own ways, especially when we lose community.

Sabina Lee
Tourist on the Camino

On our second day of hiking we walked through the pre-dawn hush to the Romanesque bridge for which the village was famous. My guidebook urged […]

ireneconnelly
Hallowed, Hollowed

I. I sit in a pew of Langhorne Presbyterian Church between my little brother and my father, who squawks with the suburban Pennsylvanian congregation: Woooorld without […]

ashlynoakes
Word Map

On the wall of my dorm room hangs a map.

soniaruiz
There is a pain — so utter

In 2010, my dad died of ALS and I found a new favorite poem. The two are connected, I see that now. Back then, the […]

Calling Papa Mike

“Heaven knows we are never allowed to forget that the personality doesn’t exist anymore.”         — Doris Lessing, “The Golden Notebook,” read […]

carolinetisdale
Return

“You must visit this garden,” my grandmother said. As usual, she spoke in Taishanese and I responded in English. I could imagine her sitting on […]

hannahkazistaylor