Published by the Students of Johns Hopkins since 1896
December 2, 2021

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.



COURTESY OF MADELYN KYE
Kye tells the story of her mother’s rescue horse Quincy and his declining health.

Rescuing Quincy

My mother’s dream since childhood was to have a horse. She was not around horses as a kid, other than in books, and only began riding in her 20s. In her 40s, she began volunteering at a horse rescue. 


COURTESY OF GABRIEL LESSER
Lesser looks back on his first days of school as he experiences his first fall semester on campus.

Smile, it’s the first day of school

Whenever I think of the first day of school, I think of a specific photo of myself standing outside of my grandparents’ apartment in Rio. I’m 3 years old, wearing a school uniform, holding a clear backpack and grinning from cheek to cheek.


COURTESY OF AMELIA ISAACS
Mongia plans to be at the exercise room in the Rec Center on May 26.

Reminiscing on my memories at Hopkins

I recently passed the Rec Center and noticed the blown-up photograph of students on treadmills. I suddenly came to the realization that, in my four years at Hopkins, I have never set foot in the exercise room there. (My trips to the Rec Center have always been for the squash courts — please don’t judge me and my athletic inclinations.)  



COURTESY OF RUDY MALCOM 
Isaacs returns to the Gatehouse to write her final column.

A thank you to The News-Letter

After a longer-than-expected hiatus from the Gatehouse (The News-Letter’s office), I’ve somehow found myself back here again to write my last column. It feels fitting. There is something comforting about being back in the space where I spent so much of the last four years. In fact, there were many weeks where I spent more time here than I did in my own apartment. It feels good to be back, though more than a little bittersweet.



COURTESY OF LILY DANIELS
Malcom and Wilner look back at the journey of The News-Letter this past year.

Our time as Editors-in-Chief during a pandemic

In April 2020, sitting at computers almost 3,000 miles apart, we were elected to be Editors-in-Chief of The News-Letter. By then, we’d been doing remote production for about a month, but at the time, we believed that things would soon return to normal.


COURTESY OF JAE CHOI
Choi reminisces about special moments in Baltimore and at Hopkins.

Remembering my favorite place on earth

Last weekend, one of my friends helped me take graduation photos around Decker Quad. It was unusually cold and windy. We posed in front of the lecture halls and admin buildings that framed the well-tended lawn, forcing smiles against cool gusts of spring air that whipped across the quad. 



COURTESY OF GABRIEL LESSER
Lesser learns to adjust to changing circumstances and unmet expectations.

Learning to adapt, rain or shine

When I was nine years old, I convinced my family to drive 3.5 hours to Hershey Park to see a Selena Gomez concert. As a huge child fan of the Disney show Wizards of Waverly Place, I was thrilled beyond belief to finally see Selena in person.


FILE PHOTO
Hasan reflects on her time at the University.

My goodbye to Hopkins

As a writer, I started off wanting to explore the cool things, the unusual things, the macabre things — murders and betrayals, lies and promises, abuses of power, grossly violent crimes and what leads people to such dramatic actions. In my freshman year, the first story I wrote was about a man who got caught in a grocery store shooting. 



COURTESY OF SANIYA RAMCHANDANI
Ramchandani discusses her father’s support for her.

Appreciating my father's feminism

My mother has always been my icon. She’s a strong, career-driven woman; I grew up watching her get dressed at 7 a.m. every morning and have been an audience member at countless panels where people attentively listened to advice I cribbed about receiving on a daily basis. There is no question that my feminist ideologies largely stem from living with a powerhouse, but many equally important teachings have come from my father.


COURTESY OF KATY WILNER
Aghamohammadi delves into memories of who he once was.

Recognizing how I have changed in the past year

I can’t escape them, flowers — snowdrops, daffodils, tulips, dogwoods, other ones with sheaths of pink or jade. Walking to campus, to the grocery store, to the park — they’re ubiquitous, the shape of blooms worldwide. I can’t help but pay attention. 


PUBLIC DOMAIN
Li explores the significance of impermanent objects like stationery.

My love for ephemera

In my old house, above the cabinet with plastic bags and a large sack of rice was a drawer with a stack of used printer paper. Every time my parents no longer needed a printed document or form, they added it to the stack in the drawer rather than throwing it away. This scrap paper stack was available for anyone in my family to use, but it was primarily meant for me.



COURTESY OF SHELBY YORK
York is both excited and nervous about leaving her small town next year.

Reflecting on my imminent move from home

The recent announcement that campus should return to near normal in the fall provided me with a sense of hope that has been unfamiliar to me in the past year. The fog finally seems to be lifting as people get vaccinated and things open up again. I’ve been thinking about all the things I’m looking forward to doing once restrictions have eased up.



COURTESY OF GABRIEL LESSER
Lesser explains his relationship with his name.

G is for Gabi: finding my name and language

I recently stumbled upon a video of my 3-year-old self lying in bed, holding up a Fodor’s Washington, D.C. travel book with a confused look on my face. At the time, I couldn’t read yet, and I most definitely had not developed my passion for making travel itineraries, but I could pinpoint certain words and pictures that interested me. In the video, you can hear me excitedly yell, “I found the letter G! G is for Gabi...” in a barely coherent mix of English and Portuguese.


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