Author: Neya Krishnan


Letter from the Editor

When I was just 20 weeks old, dancing in my mom’s swollen belly, an ultrasound at Secaucus Meadowlands Hospital revealed my five tiny fingers outstretched for light, waving at my nervous parents. I like to think that from the very beginning, I have been eager to reach out, to converse, and, in those early moments, my little hand became the alphabet and vocabulary I didn’t know yet.

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