Whether you’re in the process of navigating your undergraduate career or gearing up to enter it, I would like to take some time out to address your accomplishments and offer a few words of encouragement. You don’t know me, and I don’t know you, but I am unbelievably proud of you already. You’ve made it thus far, and that’s very important to remember. You’re in, and you belong, and that can’t be taken away from you.
You come from a gifted generation. Each day, you unwrap a stream of new presents, with all the urgency of a morning coffee fix. Your thumbs are always slightly bent from the effort, but your ego is well-massaged by 8 a.m. These daily gifts arrive in frantic bundles, ballooning from the corner of your cell phone screen. They are tiny and pink, bearing a heart with a number – a measurement of their ability to
Warning: This letter addresses the theme of bullying. This is not meant to in any way romanticize or show that bullying is okay, but rather a reminder to stay strong, as one day, you will be okay. Dear ‘Bully’, Thank you. Thank you for teaching me that pretending to be better than someone, doesn’t actually make you better. I spent so much time feeling I was inferior to you due to my weight, the pigment
Dear Blonde Hippie Girl from the mall today, I’m sorry to call you out by a feature of yours, I’m sure that you haven’t yet realized how frustrating it is to be defined by the color of your hair. Or maybe you have. I wouldn’t know, I don’t know you. But, let me explain how I came to be so passionately frustrated with you, that I am here writing this rant-of-an-open-letter. A week ago I was at
If you have ever felt worthless in your life, if you have ever felt like you’re not good enough, then this article is for you. I’m here to say that you’re not alone. I know exactly how it feels to feel like you’re not one bit important. Too often, we forget that each and every one of is a unique individual, an individual who makes a difference in this world, even if it is the
It’s the day all seniors dread from the minute school lets out for summer two and a half months earlier. The day when part of our freedom is taken away from us. The freedom of late summer nights without a care in the world – gone; the freedom of clear minds with rested souls – gone. Now, we have the fear of inauspicious AP exams and college to worry about. Granted, some, if not most,
Dear Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD), Trumpeting that you and I, Genie, are on a first-name basis like a burnished brass instrument amidst a melodious symphony is, admittedly, an underestimation of our codependency. I remember being introduced to you—the beginning of my end. I had always been acquainted with your tidal waves—recurrent hurricanes devastating my intertwining villages, the framework being dilapidated one, two, three times over, one following another suit like a controlled demolition—and as a