A List of the Most Bitter, Sweet, and Bittersweet Things About My Time at Wellesley as Summarized by Headlines of Counterpoint Articles I Didn’t End Up Writing

(in chronological order)

By Parker Piscitello-Fay ‘22

No Really, Where Am I? (a case for more signage on Wellesley College’s campus and admitting you don’t have everything figured out)

An Ode to the Compassion and Honesty with which Esteemed Poetry Professor Dan Chiasson Approaches Discussions of Odes

It’s Tuesday, November, 2018 at 3:29 pm and the Idea of Shadow Grading is the Only Thing Holding Me Together (why we need to talk about first years when we talk about Wellesley’s stress culture)

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Bereft

By Lizette Mier ‘22

This past spring break, I sat in the recording room of Washington D.C.’s newest language museum, Planet Word. I glossed over the themes of what to talk about. Planet Word had a recording studio where anyone could share a story for their archives, and I knew I had been waiting so long to come to this museum that I couldn’t leave without leaving a mark behind. Breadcrumbs of my existence.

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On reclaiming childhood accomplishments, my black belt, and self-defense.

by Rachel Desmond' ‘22

CW: Graphic descriptions

I think my fifteen-year-old self getting a black belt says a lot about who I am as a twenty-two-year-old. That black belt says that right as I was hitting puberty—a time when many girls have to relinquish the safety of a prepubescent body—I was learning how to take a punch.

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