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In my writing, I tend to veer on the side of indulgent nostalgia. I usually find myself leaning into romanticism in my attempts at expressing a deep longing for home, a simultaneous mistrust of it and how those feelings have …
During my six semesters here at Bowdoin, I’ve become all too familiar with the ebbs and flows of the social life here. People make up, break up, make out and everything in between. Because many people spend time with certain …
At risk of sounding regretful of my background, I confess that my least favorite question when meeting someone is, “Where are you from?” My answer usually seems interesting enough to lead to many follow-ups, to the point where a side …
Valentine’s week arrives every year like clockwork—pink, glittery and impossible to ignore. Some people count down the days. Others count down the minutes until it’s over. Personally, I’ve started to suspect that holidays like Valentine’s, dropped inconveniently into the gray …
My cycle feels off, I’m bleeding heavily, exhausted and strangely creative…. Is this normal? All of these questions are normal, and our answer is that you should understand that menstruation looks different for everyone. According to the “Cycle Book…
On Tuesday morning, the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) arrested a man on Union Street in Brunswick. Associate Vice President of Safety and Security Bill Harwood notified students via email of the arrest later that afternoon. The presence …
This past Saturday night, I seemingly committed an atrocity. I stood up at the Bowdoin-Colby men’s hockey game. You would have thought I did something truly terrible. No, I was just very excited to root for my Polar Bears in …
It’s been a while since I last wrote for the Orient. You may remember my last contribution to this column, which had a brief stint of YikYak fame, titled “Why I can’t go home.” In it, I lamented the struggles …
I hate going home. Most of the time, it feels like walking through a time capsule, which emphasizes the vast disconnect, a tension, between myself and the home I left behind. It’s bittersweet.
It’s odd how just a few days …
