“Good, Thanks How are You” is a habit I’m trying to shake. In overuse, I’ve reduced the saying from response to reflex, and in the
My first breakdown in college was on the first day of my first year. It started with my first Arabic class. I was both
Home for me is a house that overlooks a ravine, and from whose window you can see the morning sun illuminating the icy top of
As the words Jordan, Lebanon, and Jerusalem each came out of my mother’s mouth, I remember my 11-year-old self waiting patiently, desperately hoping to hear
The ocean gave birth to me. I once stood with my mother looking out at the fjord she used to wake up to everyday. She
I find your hair in my bed while changing the sheets and I cry. It is so cold in the morning I shiver awake under
it’s late and dark when i pull into Exasperation Station; i’d almost turned back because the wells seemed all run-dry and, as usual, no one
“The American inland empire was pushing westward. For the first time, large-scale manufacturing was being established. Every ocean port of the world was coming to
While many Boston area locals feel familiar with their physical surroundings, fewer know about the intricate details and history of how the spaces they occupy
Somerville, 1935: Infiltration of negro. Detrimental influences: obsolescence, low-class occupants, congested area. Foreign born concentrated at western end and negro in central part. Section south
When a certain man who shall not be named—I’m not trying to get into a legal battle—threatened to sue the Tufts Daily, many of us,
I was born with veins made up of the countless rivers of Bangladesh and my voice grew into the Midwestern twang of Southern Ohio. I
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