Category: Reflections

Suburban Meditation

“What I wanted to do was ask her if she knew how good she had it: white and pretty and well-to-do and having friends made by her parents from the very beginning.”

by on

A Tale of Two Clubs

“At Princeton, joining an eating club is like being a meat-eater: it’s a commonplace practice that has become the norm, but we feel there’s something morally iffy about the whole enterprise.”

by on

Fireworks

“We were watching the same lights, inhaling the same air, and waiting for the same New Year to come, wishing the same things for our family and heading towards the same future.”

by on

Nass Remembrances

Three Nass writers reflect on what it means to know someone after they’re gone.

by , , on

Ghosts of Berggasse 19

“You are buzzed in after a moment, as if you are entering a doctor’s office, as if you are a patient, as if the Freud, whose eyes stare out from the tiers of brochures in the museum’s front room, will tell you in due time what your dreams mean.”

by on

The Opera Singer

The story of a birth, and a basket of cheese fries

by on

Playdates and Porn

It was a Thursday night, and my best friend Dana and I couldn’t think of anything to do. Our usual evening activities, as is probably true for many people aged nine, were of the destructive nature; we’d erect elaborate blanket … Read More

by on

A Different Kind of Sound

Sign language stories in Barnes and Nobles.

by on

Confessions IV

Speaking of several sins.

by on

Growing Down

Reluctantly back home with my parents two months after deciding to take time off from Princeton, I wasn’t exactly in prime form. My uncontrollably racing mind had left me sleepless for weeks. The process of peeling away the suffocating layers of anxiety accumulated at prep schools and college was proving to be agonizingly slow.

by on

The Short, Implanted Grass

The first time I met Leah, she was reading an evolutionary biology textbook in a tree in the Mathey courtyard. As the weather grew warmer in the spring, I began to see her there almost constantly. One day, I decided to overcome my aversion to aerated New Jersey soil and sharp acorns, and joined her reading session.

by on

Dear April, May, June, July

“At the end of July, I think I am waiting for time itself to act, to catch up with itself, to wake us up again.”

by on