Miriam Klaczynska

Welcome to Berkeley! Here, you can expect to discover academic disciplines, friends for life and, of course, thousands of crypto-tech-EECS-finance bros who want nothing more than to tell YOU about their latest and greatest startup.

No, you might not get into the most posh consulting club your first semester on campus, but it won’t be the end of the world.

My meraki tried to trickle out, endearingly disobedient, forming beads of sweat in place of stories and saltwater tears where poetry begged to be.

Instead, I made myself a deal: I’ll stick it out for a semester, and, if I still hated it, I’d return to the dreaded Common App portal for my transfer application. You can probably guess how that ended, as I’m still here, trying to convince you to give it a chance.

Though my mother and I used to poke fun at my grandparents’ hoarding tendencies, the apple doesn't fall very far from the tree.

My connection with my country meant I could never fully connect with my new one, and with that realization came the acceptance of my permanent displacement.

Torschlusspanik is a German word that encompasses this fear, literally translating to “gate-closing panic.” It represents the realization of diminishing opportunities, the dread of aging.

There is no desire to prod past the surface of a loved one’s well-being, and slowly, we become strangers.

Hookup culture presented me with the power to never truly experience rejection and to assimilate into teenage norms.

I never feel more beautiful and empowered than while wearing clothing my mother had owned since before I was born.