Category: Reflections

Yellow Afternoons

“There were always guava and mango, grapefruit and lychee. But, above all, there was always mother.”

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Sis Visit

On the night before Valentine’s Day, I ran to the Dinky in the frigid February air, wondering for the hundredth time how life would be different if my sister had gone to Princeton.

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Sendak Send-Off

An appreciation in parting.

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Nominal Inheritance

I hate the thought of someday passing down the name Mahoney to my kids, and explaining to them that their name deprives them of a history.

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Confessions II

Raw thighs.

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Moments of Dreams: Dawes in Six Albums and Seven Stories

“In my moments of dogged hope, I would play “Moon in the Water,” an acoustic ballad where Goldsmith proclaims that ‘Love is for the fighter / Born to lose but never quit / Swinging for the moon in the water.’”

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Bridge Year, Abridged

It’s been over a year since I got back from my Bridge Year in Ghana, and I still don’t know how to answer that question. How do I condense an entire year’s worth of experiences into one or two sentences? My frustration is with the question itself—it doesn’t lend itself to complex or thoughtful answers.

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Religion with Friends

We are a little hung-over, a little loud, a little late. As my friend Giri drives the car up a dusty, unpaved road, my friend Louise and I comment on how rustic the rough wooden fence separating from the field from Princeton Friends Meeting is.

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Following Up to “Maria”

“I hope that this article will create a space for more conversations about this topic, as I think it is long overdue.”

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Justin Gerald ’07 Reflection

“first part of Princeton that actually made me feel good about myself”

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Telescoping Youth

Memories may fade as distance grows wider between ourselves and our young selves, but one thing remains constant: if we dig down deep into the recesses of our experiences, hold light up to the seeds of our current moment, brush off the dust, we might find something worth writing about.

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All Grown Up

Earl Sweatshirt looks so young. His baby face bears a sparse mustache I associate with high school boys trying to prove they’ve hit puberty, and he’s swallowed by an oversize Yankees jersey. Maybe it’s just because I’m so close to the stage, and to other people he seems older than his nineteen years.

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