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2025 Fall Contest Winner: Hug It Tight
Bella Burnett '28 I asked you, when will I know? When will I be “that” person? When will I be the one with those brilliant ideas, The kind that rush out of people so strongly and quickly, But yet are still so detailed, and meticulously perfected in a blink of my eye. My eye that struggles to see, but still wants to try, I put on my glasses but yet I still find myself asking, When will I be proud? Time blows away, The wind carries what could have been, It’s off somewhere with
Oct 10, 20251 min read
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Why Are We Different
Jennifer Fox '26 If I’m fast down the court, when I beat you to the hoop You tell me I’m fast for a girl. Why does the last part need to be said Why do I have to be fast for a girl Why can’t I just be fast, faster than you? Because I’m not a man, I’m supposed to always come behind? Because you’re bigger, stronger, tougher I’m not supposed to win? Am I supposed to stand aside and let you walk all over everything I’ve worked for Take away opportunities for me to shine under t
To the White Woman Who Left a Voicemail on New Year’s Day
Lauren Kim '27 The white woman left a voicemail, January 1st, 2022, after work, and I walked to my car in the January cold, my heels clicking on black ice, my breath hanging in the air like evidence, my mother at home making tteokguk for New Year’s, the kitchen warm and steaming with broth, and I pressed play in my car: Keep your Korean to yourself, I saved it, her voice cracks through the speaker. Then I think about the halmonis selling greens they hiked to pick, perilla le
Chocolate vs. Vanilla
Shane Cowley '28 Chocolate vs. Vanilla? An Ice breaker The first thing you get to define. The issue however, It’s never what you say, or how others feel. The issues, are the borders that we trap ourselves in Why should we have to choose? What if we don’t define ourselves, By someone else’s pallet? What if someone wants a mix? A colorful, sweet swirl Or a fudge syrup, swimming among waves of vanilla. Maybe the only thing needed for enjoyment, Is an ooey, gooey, soft serve Runn
The Ocean Blue Dress
Zoe Brownstein '28 The dress is blue as a baby’s smile, layered with imbricate petals that seem so soft, so delicate, as if they are velvet paper. It reminds me of sea spray on a warm summer’s day, when my fingers become prunes from quenching my thirst for water, when a giddy grin would not relinquish my sun-kissed face, and life feels just magical. Yet as I imagine myself putting on that dress, staring in a mirror, I do not see bright, shimmering fish scales e
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