We are coming off a turbulent last few weeks—many here on campus and across the country are feeling rattled, uncertain and downright scared. This climate of tension and anxiety feels hard to shake, especially as we look toward a future of potential transformation and upheaval. It is easy to languish in this feeling and entirely valid to do so, but as part of this, we must search for ways to not only cope but also cultivate spaces of hope and resilience.

Hope, now and always, lies in the arts. No matter the tumultuous times, we, as Bowdoin students, are surrounded by a variety of theater productions, dance performances, a cappella concerts, musical ensembles and visual arts exhibitions. Don’t underestimate how much these events can mean. Through different mediums, these art forms delve into what it means to be a human during this time and beyond and give us a place of refuge to process our complex emotions.

Going to Pickard Theater and watching “Into the Woods,” heading to Jack Magee’s Pub to see an indie band or even visiting the Craft Center and creating something new are wonderful gifts in their own right. But the visionary power of art is real and extends beyond our individual selves.

By engaging with the arts, we envision stories beyond what appears possible in a seemingly broken world. In their willingness to challenge what is acceptable, artists have formed the vanguard of countless social movements across the world for centuries; it is no coincidence that those who dedicate their lives to creative pursuits also fight for justice. Deep emotions, including pain but also hope, are generative forces.

Art provides an imaginative space where new futures can be dreamt outside of the structures of our material conditions but still grounded in them, alchemized into spaces of possibility. Abigail DeVille’s recent exhibition in the Bowdoin College Museum of Art was one such space: a portal into a world made of ancestral stardust fueled by Afrofuturist hopes and historical reckoning. A similar visionary storytelling pursuit here is Weatherspoon’s ’25 poetry concert series, where our classmates became our bravely vulnerable interlocutors for a night as they made sense of their lives and gave us a glimpse of insight into our own.

This power cannot be discounted as frivolous or as a purely aesthetic pursuit. In her essay, “Poetry Is Not a Luxury,” Audre Lorde asserts the vital necessity of poetry. She writes, “Poetry is not only dream and vision; it is the skeleton architecture of our lives.” We owe great reverence and respect to art’s power to offer a reprieve from our psychological disarray and propel social change.

We must shoulder the important work of materializing, preserving and remembering the increasingly precarious human condition that persists through resilience and creative survival.

This editorial represents the majority view of the Editorial Board, which is comprised of Caroline Adams, Janet Briggs, Isa Cruz, John Schubert, Kristen Kinzler and Vaughn Vial.