This past year, I found myself struggling with a dilemma many young artists face: the struggle between creating art for social and financial recognition versus the pure joy of creating for its own sake.

The last time I visited the Philippines was in 2008. I was five years old and have little to no recollection of my stay. I have slivers of memories of the trip—getting my nails painted by my ninangs (godmother), singing karaoke with my family, and walking a cute aso (dog).

In every role I’ve embraced during Fall Orientation—from being an incoming student, to a ConEd Orientation Leader “Teach,” Head Teach, and now, Orientation Roundtable Coordinator, one undeniable truth prevails—there’s a transformative magic to Fall Orientation that brings forth one’s finest self.

Despite openly talking and feeling comfortable with my bisexuality for two years, last June was the first time I’d ever been to Pride.

After a long and strenuous exam season, I kicked off my summer vacation in a place many of my peers might consider a nightmare: a kindergarten classroom.

Asbah and Cassidy are still hopeful about journalism.

I’ve never been a religious person, nor a superstitious one. I’ve never found myself convinced by the realms of faith or magic.

Many of us are familiar with the Latin expression carpe diem, which translates to “seize the day.” Sometimes, I feel as though I’ve spent my entire life chasing the future, forgetting to live in the present and seize the day.

Dear Beatrice, I hope you’ll accept this as a belated birthday card to stand in for the others I’ve missed in the past and will miss again in the future.

Kateryna reflects on the last two years since Russia invaded Ukraine.

As I reflect on my Blackness and experiences this Black History Month, my hair emerges as a central element in my journey of self-discovery.

Life is about sharing your love, being heartbroken and learning from it. Learning from every experience, recovering from the heartbreak, and knowing you’re stronger for it. 

When you hear the words “you have to be like bamboo” for the first time, it seems like the most absurd thing anyone could ever utter, even more so when it’s offered as a piece of advice.

Reflecting on the girlhood trend, I find it fails to capture the true beauty of age—the profound impact a year or maybe even a decade can leave on our lives.

In the midst of 50 days filled with uncontrollable tears, Liz navigates the struggle to regain a sense of purpose and spark.