Category: Reflections

Tagaloa’s Odyssey

“The girl rifles through her thoughts, grasping for the reason behind the aching in her heart. And then there it is again, Tagaloa’s steady voice. “Come home.”

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Sweet Rituals

I don’t remember when my sister and I began baking cookies together, but soon it was a permanent fixture, the ritual of our childhood. Every Monday at seven o’clock, our mother would drop me and Cecily off at our father’s house.

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The Compugraphic EditWriter 7500

“The Nassau Weekly felt like a really grown up thing, probably the first for me.”

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Confessions IX

Am I handsome? There are days when my face is clear and my hair all in place and I believe that I am very comely, and there are days when I am unduly scruffy and pimpled and I despise my own reflection. I

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Love Lessons

Wherein a Nass writer contemplates the influence of Disney on her burgeoning worldview.

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Seeing Myself Clearly

This binary between “school” and “cool” is something even my own parents, haters
of dim lighting and monthly contacts prescriptions, acknowledge as well, if only implicitly.

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Girl Meets Pig

One of my primary goals on my family trip to China just before school started this year was to get some cool art for my room. Walking down the aisles of the antique market in Beijing, I had a feeling … Read More

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Peter Taylor ’22 Reflection

“I had made a positive impact on someone else; I had connected through my words to another mind, another person.”

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Ars Poetica with Everything Ending, so Everything Beginning

“Let’s try this again. I am one of many people in love. I am a human of being human. Skin like everyone else and lots of heart. Too much music might kill me. Too little too.”

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The Neon God

Omens, names, and brushes with death.

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The Trials of Princeton

It was the first night without my parents in some hotel on US Route 1. I was alone and somewhere near East Pyne, brimming with the feeling of being lost and alone in a new city, juggling the oversized, color-coded freshman orientation specialty map that a volunteer organizer had gravely slipped into my purse.

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The Princeton Life

Throughout my first year at Princeton, I’ve felt haunted by a specter of inadequate productivity.

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