
Talk of the Quad
The cost of goodness
All my life, one question has remained in the forefront of my mind: Am I a good person?
The question has become such an integral part of who I am—it seeps into everything I set my eyes on and every …
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Total Number of Articles: 167
First Article on this Page: April 12, 2024
Latest Article on this Page: October 18, 2024
All my life, one question has remained in the forefront of my mind: Am I a good person?
The question has become such an integral part of who I am—it seeps into everything I set my eyes on and every …
Last year around this time, I was waking up at 5:45 a.m. for bi-weekly morning lifts, driving 20 minutes to the Schiller Coastal Studies Center for three hour-plus long practices and traveling almost every weekend in the fall.
Now, I …
I’ll admit it: I was overwhelmed during my first semester at Bowdoin College. Three thousand miles away from my home in California, I was ready to sink my teeth into Maine and did everything I could to find something to …
It’s hard to mess up an egg. They’re just so versatile. You can have them boiled or fried. You can have them sunny side up on a nicely toasted piece of sourdough bread (with feta on top if you’re distinguished—like …
After spending ten weeks working in the oppressive heat and humidity of D.C., I was more than ready to go back home to New Hampshire, a place with friends, family, beaches, mountains, a “live free or die” attitude and a …
My distant Irish heritage, bestowed upon me from paternal great-grandparents I’ve never met, has left me with few connections to the Emerald Isle—namely, a love for Irish literature, fair skin that burns at the first touch of sunlight, a vaguely …
It had been three months since the lockdown was announced in Metro Manila, and suffice it to say we were all going stir-crazy. Our hands were exhausted from the trend of whipping coffee, our eyes were red from Zoom school …
January 11, 2024—I am an absolute mess. Tears slide down my face as I slowly chip away at my now-salty chicken parm sandwich. I quickly dry my eyes in my sleeve just as my mom walks into the kitchen to …
It took living in the Northeast to come to know that I’m a southerner—that is, from the American South. I grew up emphasizing my Chicagoan origins rather than my hometown in Tennessee in forgettable introductions to familiar strangers, having learned …
Over spring break, my mom handed me a letter. Sent by Ms. Clapp, my beloved high school anatomy & physiology teacher, it had languished under a mounting mountain of mail for untold weeks, maybe months. The sender’s handwriting surprised me: …