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Petals (My Queer Womanhood)

It’s not acted out for the sake of spectacle. It’s not a whimsical, gender-bending fuck-you to ‘the system.’ Nor is it my way of saying, “I’m not afraid of what you think.” Because I am afraid of what you think. This matters to me. This femininity.

Timelines Intersect

There are so many layers to this story that seem otherwordly, primarily the fact that the first person to die of Ebola outside of West Africa would die in my hometown, at the hospital where I was born, nearly 20 years before to the day.

Impact—The Tantalan Thirst?

Like many students about to be pitched into the world of work, I have been thinking — and worrying — about impact. I want to […]

Five Days for Two

If you’re reading this, you probably know: WKND is something different. We cuss and joke and make a lot of bad puns. We use the first person. We wear sweatshirts and jeans. We’re part of the YDN, sure, but we’re up in the attic of 202 York.

Feeling 22

Today is my birthday. Happy birthday, me! Today I turn 22, which is old enough to feel ancient when walking by Yale’s newest batch of 17-year-old freshmen, but young enough for older folks to think it’s ridiculous that I feel old at 22. It’s also the perfect age to make Taylor Swift references, but that song came out two years ago. Twenty-two is too high for Blackjack (that’s twenty-one), too low for a conspiracy theory that inspired a poorly-received Jim Carrey thriller (that’s twenty-three). 22 is aesthetically appealing: two twos sitting nicely and neatly next to each other. But that’s about it.

On Beauty and Being Done

“What is a WEEKEND?” – The Dowager Countess of Grantham (stylization ours)

On Flying and on Turning 20 (while flying)

You’re flying! You try to tell yourself. You’re some thousand number of miles up in the air and how is this not a cool way to spend your birthday!

Here Now, Looking Back: A Message for Fresh Men

What did the school mean for me? Why did it? What did I do it if I did it?

English as a Second Language

I spent my summer in Brazil, learning how terrible I am at speaking Portuguese. When I returned to the US, I discovered that I might also be terrible at speaking English.

My iPhone, My Precious

I fantasize about chucking my iPhone off a cliff. Sharp rocks split its screen as it tumbles into oblivion. I’m certain that I would feel […]

The Places I Carry

I almost got a tattoo this summer. But the place wasn’t right. I don’t mean placement — that’s all fine — but the physical setting. […]