humanities

Every week, I would enter the French classroom with more confidence than I did the week before. My professors were impressed by my progress. When I raised my hand in class, my spoken French sounded so natural and so refined. My only secret was that my progress had little to do with their pedagogy. 

College can be awfully suffocating. For these four integral years, we are pigeonholed into majors that supposedly define our entire personality.

Some question if the two are truly discrete; is there room for overlap despite their apparently contrasting natures?

Exploring computing, learning how to code, all seemed like legitimate goals that I was eager to start on. That is, until my first CS class.

Stories continually circulate through our veins. They touch our very hearts — in through the pulmonary vein, out through the aorta.

I’ve never really known how to feel about individualism: I envy those who boast their independent lifestyles, yet I also see it as a luxury, perhaps even a frivolous one.

Today, as we address the aftermath of the previous presidential administration, it’s necessary to reexamine our hyper-fixation on technological progress.

If your ears are strained from trying to distinguish your life’s calling amid all the noise, maybe it would be best to start by listening to your childhood self.

Art was something that called to me. I have always been passionate about it. Why should I listen to her and not chase my dreams?