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.
1. Your first pair of boots must be Justin Cowboy Boots or a worn-looking pair of brown hunting boots with a gold buckle from Muck Boots. You must wear them at least four times a week with light wash denim jeans marked with small holes in the back pockets to show that you help out on the farm or work in the woods.
Last Thursday I literally tagged myself with a label. For National Coming Out Day, I wore extra-long, half-rainbow, half-purple socks that had the word “GAY” sewn on them in white letters. Having no particular desire to wake up early for breakfast at the Office of LGBTQ Life, I felt obligated to celebrate queer awareness in another way. Wearing socks that I had borrowed from a friend for New York City Pride in June seemed like the move.
When I was a kid, I prided myself on liking things that other girls my age did not. I liked skateboarding and playing in the dirt, gross-out gags and whoopee cushions. While I indulged in the occasional feminine pastime, like playing with Bratz dolls, I even turned that into something more aggressive and masculine, acting out elaborate murder scenes with my friend and filming them on the handheld video camera I got for Christmas.
Euclid’s first postulate of planar geometry states that a straight line can be drawn from any two points. Postulates state what is, not what may be or what can be proven. Therefore we have to accept the postulate as true with certainty.
When presenting a problem or flaw in a system, it is expected that you also provide a solution to fix it. Talking about a problem without saying what can be done is taken as unhelpful complaining, as if you don’t really want to fix the problem — you’re just looking for something to be mad at or something to blame.
While at the career fair a couple weeks ago, I gave a recruiter my elevator pitch. He looked engaged, so I thought it was going well and decided to add a couple more details to enhance my story.
A couple of weeks ago, I started working my way through old episodes of Doctor Who to prepare myself for the upcoming season (and, more importantly, Jodie Whittaker’s role as the first female incarnation of the Doctor). Within the first episode, I was surprised to find how nostalgic the show made me feel.
Cycling in this city can be a treacherous task, but as I’ve gotten used to it, I’ve found that it has enabled me to finally appreciate the allure of Amsterdam.
The first semester of college, my independence was tested more than ever. There was the first time I was late for or skipped a class and had no one to blame but myself. Or the first time I forewent studying an extra hour for a test to irresponsibly hang out with the cute guy I had just met. Last but not least, the first time I ate six bowls of mac and cheese and a few brownies, and then skipped the gym, simply because I could.
It’s no secret to those who know me even a little bit that I am from Pakistan. From my Introduction to Fiction and Poetry (IFP) stories to my plays to my poems, a part of my work is always dedicated to the country which has left an indelible mark on my identity.
When it comes to taking a stance on big policy issues, Larry Hogan is no liberal. But in a state dominated by Democrat voters, Hogan has maintained an outstanding approval rate. With midterms quickly approaching, he holds a 16-point lead against Democratic challenger Ben Jealous. If re-elected, Hogan will be the first Republican governor to serve a second term in 60 years.
At a school like Hopkins, it can be hard to find quality time to connect with people. Our lifestyle is conducive to shutting in without realizing it, and in those moments, we distance ourselves from friends and worsen their own solitude. This has been especially true as the nearly semester-long midterm season has finally begun to so rudely introduce itself.
1) It begins with poetry in a Tinder bio and a reason not to be together. It escalates when he asks if you’re spontaneous.
Chances are that if you’re here, you’ve always had a passion for knowledge, whether it manifested itself in a love of books (as was the case for me), an intense interest in taking things apart and reassembling them, or in playing “doctor” and “operating” on your siblings.
Roughly a year ago, I wrote my first column for The News-Letter. In an attempt to “introduce myself” and this column, I unwittingly put myself into a box. I labelled myself as “the British girl” because that’s what I had already been labelled as by most people I’d met just a few weeks into my first semester here. I allowed myself to stay within that box, however, and I can only blame myself for that.
It’s been 11 years since I read the very first Hardy Boys book, but if you were to ask me about its ending, I would be able to tell you everything about how Frank and Joe Hardy solved their first mystery together. Because of my really good memory when I was younger, I never understood how people could read the same book or watch the same movie over and over again. If I already know how the story is going to go, then what is the point of seeing it all unravel again?
In my last column, I discussed the opportunity gap at Hopkins for low-income students, like myself. However, in doing so, I feel as if I misrepresented myself, so I want to make one thing clear: I am an extremely privileged person.
I briefly touched upon what it can be like riding a bike last week, in the delightful city of Amsterdam, along with its trials and tribulations, but it was far too brief. Cycling is what makes the Netherlands tick. One cannot possibly talk about this country without mentioning the way its people roam the streets and take ownership of this space.
You’re with your friends, and you wash your hands thoroughly to get the Dorito crumbs out from under your fingernails. You humorously blurt out, “Sorry guys, I’m really OCD.”
