Published by the Students of Johns Hopkins since 1896
September 12, 2025 September 12, 2025 | Published by the Students of Johns Hopkins since 1896

Voices

Hopkins is a diverse university where an incredible mix of cultures, academic interests and personalities coexist and thrive. Here is the section where you can publish your unique thoughts, ideas and perspectives on life at Hopkins and beyond.

MIKE PEEL / CC-BY-SA-4.0 Oh describes her attempts to find a balance between reflection and progress.

No end to infinity: Introspection and Ishiguro

By GRACE OH | February 3, 2025

British author Kazuo Ishiguro’s The Remains of the Day is my favorite type of book. Instead of a fast-paced plot with witty one-liners and gritty characters, the mind space accompanied by the story is a bit like having an entire afternoon to run one errand. Eventually, the task has to be completed but there seems to be an abundance of time to meander while daydreaming, prod at a few things that catch your attention and stumble across a memory to unravel. You pause. Bracing yourself, you tug.

DOK1 / CC BY 2.0 Finkelstein talks about her attempts to overcome seasonal depression and enjoy winter.

Under the winter security blankets

By HAILEY FINKELSTEIN | February 1, 2025

As much as my seasonally depressed tendencies would like me to fall into the slumber of the hibernators, I have been trying my hardest to show myself kindness this winter by forcing myself into the cold. I am doing my best not to put my life on pause just because the sun sets at 4:30, no matter how uncomfortable that may feel.

COURTESY OF RILEY STRAIT Strait tells the story of his first part-time job at a pretzel shop.

Do I have to get a "real job"?

By RILEY STRAIT | January 29, 2025

Just as people scrutinize the skies under which they were born to determine their star chart — to figure out why they are a caretaker, why their last relationship didn’t work out or why they can’t eat raw carrots but only stewed — one can extract an unfathomable amount of information based solely on what they wanted to be when they were kids. Or at least I think so.

COURTESY OF GABRIEL LESSER Lesser talks about the values food symbolizes to him.

It’s about how we make them feel

By GABRIEL LESSER | December 16, 2024

There’s a Maya Angelou quote that’s always resonated with me. It goes, “people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” I find immense value in this quote, and I come back to it whenever I am unsure of what I am doing. As a chronic overthinker, I tend to overemphasize the smallest minutiae of life when, in reality, I should be looking at the big picture. We as humans make mistakes. But it’s not our mistakes that define us, rather, it’s how we treat the people around us and show up for those that we care about. 

COURTESY OF AASHI MENDPARA Mendpara argues that humans need each other to build more meaningful lives, and that this is not necessarily a bad thing.

On the myth of self-sufficiency

By AASHI MENDPARA | December 12, 2024

I recently got coffee with a professor and I was, of course, ranting about school, classes, friendships and family. With a voice thick with frustration, I said, "People act like they're entitled to your time and energy.” All she did was stare and smile. After a minute or two, she replied, quietly but firmly: "Maybe they are." 

JIYUN GUO / DESIGN & LAYOUT EDITOR Kaufman describes how learning about the existence of seemingly untranslatable words affected her. 

Expressing the untranslatable

By SARA KAUFMAN | December 12, 2024

The bus ride to the med campus will never cease to amaze me. I love seeing the city shift with the seasons, passing through different neighborhoods and watching new parts of town fly by outside the window. There’s a word for this, and it’s on the tip of my tongue... ugh, what is it? In Spanish, the term would be recorriendo la ciudad. 

COURTESY OF LINDA HUANG Huang describes how a family trip to Europe changed her perspective toward planning out and enjoying trips.

Making memories, not deadlines

By LINDA HUANG | December 10, 2024

A week before my family vacation to London, I carefully crafted a detailed itinerary on my Notes app down to the minute. Tuesday, Nov. 26 looked seamless on paper — a flawless flow from Heathrow to Paddington, from the British Museum to Buckingham Palace, and on to the London Eye and Big Ben. With my mother and two younger siblings in tow, I envisioned a trip where every destination was ticked off like clockwork. But as the saying goes, life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.

COURTESY OF MIKE EZPERANZA Miller discusses the notion of “artivism” after getting assigned a dance piece assignment on politics at the Peabody Institute.

Expecting activism out of artists

By ANGELINA MILLER | December 10, 2024

Wednesday, Nov. 6, 9:25 a.m. Leakin Hall, Peabody Institute. A studio that had once been filled with dynamic pulses of expectant energy had now been reduced to a foreboding hush. I caught myself avoiding the despondent stares of my peers as I walked apprehensively to my spot. Drafts of how I would one day illustrate where I was when “it” happened flooded my head. Within these floods, I attempted to search for a polished response to indicate my dissidence, but everything felt too forced. In the end, I had abandoned my grand gesture of outrage and took a seat among the mass of wary bodies.

COURTESY OF ANNE LI Li reminds the reader to take care of themselves by by telling a personal anecdote.

Take care of yourself, too

By ANNE LI | December 7, 2024

Two weeks into starting college, I joined my first lab, a number of student clubs and enrolled in many pre-med classes. As a first generation student, it was safe to say I was led in a blind eye, never knowing which step was the right one. As long as I moved forward and kept on doing what I was doing, that was all that mattered.

COURTESY OF HAILEY FINKELSTEIN Finkelstein reflects on going back to her hometown for the holidays.

On bagels and gray hair

By HAILEY FINKELSTEIN | December 7, 2024

To go back to my one-square-mile hometown for Thanksgiving is to buckle my younger self into the passenger seat of my mom’s red Kia and take her for a drive. At every stop sign in my old high school parking lot, there is a new wave of nauseating nostalgia. 

COURTESY OF MOLLY GREEN Green tells the story of a table that has a long history in her family.

All the things a table can hold

By MOLLY GREEN | December 5, 2024

It is 1994. She’s shopping at Pottery Barn with her boyfriend. He needs help furnishing his apartment — she has deemed him hopeless at all things decor, and besides, the furniture she picks today will soon be theirs, so she is careful. Meticulous. Precise. 

COURTESY OF ALYSSA GONZALEZ Gonzalez tries to find the middle ground between her passion for her future career and her other interests, friends and family. 

Have we turned off our humanity switch?

By ALYSSA GONZALEZ | December 4, 2024

When I was younger, my mother would always tell me that I would be remembered by my title: a great lawyer, a Hopkins graduate, an expert in international studies. I never realized why this idea always rubbed me the wrong way. I began to wonder: will my entire life be reduced to my work? 

COURTESY OF CELINA STODDER Stodder comes to the realization that she might not be as alone as she thinks she is in Baltimore.

Give me my ship back, please!

By CELINA STODDER | December 3, 2024

I want to let you in on a secret. Or, rather, a lesser known fact: The USS Constellation was originally built by a Stodder! Cue the double-check of my last name.

COURTESY OF BUSE KOLDAS Koldas explains why she doesn’t want the semester to end.

Can’t wait until the semester is over, until it is

By BUSE KOLDAS | December 1, 2024

Exhaustion and boredom have been ornamenting my dialogues recently. I get asked how my day has been, and without even thinking, I respond with “Tiring.” I come home to my roommates and all of our conversations about school conclude with “I need a break so bad.” At this point of the semester, I don’t recall a single day where I did not overhear the statement “I can’t wait until the semester is over.”

COURTESY OF MOLLY GREEN Green expresses her feelings toward her best friend in a letter.

Letter to my best friend

By MOLLY GREEN | November 23, 2024

We meet when we are small. I have a side part. You’re growing into your smile. Sometimes my mom drives you home from school and we do homework together on my bedroom floor: pre-algebra and five-paragraph essays. We talk about our middle school boyfriends that we acquired in tandem. You insist yours isn’t gay. In your room, the walls are lavender and lined with old softball trophies. We read the same books; we wear the same socks. You teach me how to bake. My job is to eat the extra chocolate chips. I braid your hair before I go home so you can wear it wavy to school tomorrow. I leave your house with capri leggings covered in dog hair and cookies in my backpack. 

COURTESY OF KIRSTEN AMEMATSRO Amematsro describes her attempts to reach “her ideal self” during her study abroad semester in D.C.. 

Everything, everyone, everywhere but D.C.

By KIRSTEN AMEMATSRO | November 21, 2024

I was optimistic. I was ready to be in the nation's capital, not only to witness history unfold but to simultaneously analyze it within a historical context. I wanted this semester to be the semester — the one where I would finally explore all of D.C. (long overdue as a Northern Virginia native). 

COURTESY OF KYARIE SHELTON Shelton tells her experience at Hopkins as a Black student and criticizes the reversal of affirmative action.

In the space between acceptance and belonging

By KYARIE SHELTON | November 20, 2024

I’ll never forget the moment I saw “You’re Admitted” flash across my screen. I was sitting criss-cross applesauce on my bedroom floor, working on an AP European History project when I received an email notification saying there was an update to my portal. I set my phone up to capture my reaction. I tried to tame my excitement by muttering, “Who cares if I get into Johns Hopkins,” but inside, I craved the validation of an acceptance. As the screen lagged, my anxiety built and I covered my computer, shielding myself from the possibility of rejection. Finally, the page loaded, and there it was: a banner of acceptance. I laughed, clapped and immediately shared the news with my family.

COURTESY OF KAYLEE NGUYEN Nguyen pens a letter to everyone and everything she has ever loved and ponders about this complex emotion.

A non-anonymous anonymous love letter

By KAYLEE NGUYEN | November 19, 2024

“Love” is one of the most — if not the most — elusive emotions for a person to experience. Whether you’re an artist or a scholar, defining “love” is a nearly impossible task. Perhaps due to its abstractness or broad definition, conveying this emotion is an intricate skill that takes years to perfect.

COURTESY OF ANNE LI Li celebrates her new age and a shifting perspective toward birthdays.

20: A moment of self-celebration and growth

By ANNE LI | November 15, 2024

Recently, I turned 20. While starting another decade of my life felt heavy in its own right, I had been anxiously anticipating this moment for so long that reaching the milestone brought an unexpected sense of calm clarity. For the first time, too, I didn’t shy away from celebrating myself. And for the first time, I didn’t wait for others to notice or wish me happy birthday first.

COURTESY OF KAITLIN TAN Tan overhears a conversation about burnout while studying at an outdoor cafe.

Beast of burden

By KAITLIN TAN | November 14, 2024

I haven’t yet met anyone on this campus who hasn’t been exhausted, at some point, by the time November rolls around. Still, every other day I trick myself into thinking that burnout is an isolated experience. 

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