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.
In high school, I was an arts kid. Theater, orchestra, choir — you name it, I did it. I also took classes in poetry and did a lot of that. To me, journalism seemed like another creative outlet that I hadn’t explored yet, and like any eager college freshman, I was itching to join new clubs the second I stepped foot on campus.
There are over 400 student groups at Hopkins, many of which will be at the Student Involvement Fair on Sept. 7. We’ve highlighted a small selection here.
You’ve no doubt noticed the interconnected buildings behind the Beach, one older and shorter, the other newer and sleek. They’re empty now but they won’t be for long. These are MSE and Brody. If you’re a typical Hopkins student, they’ll become your second home.
I’m writing an article called “Advice from a senior to a freshman.” Has it really been that long? It doesn’t feel like that long ago I was walking onto Homewood for the first time, standing in the middle of the Gilman Quad utterly and completely lost. I don’t think I’m ready to leave yet.
During my first days at Hopkins, I was incredibly anxious about how I would fare and whether I would be happy. But after forging meaningful relationships with friends from diverse backgrounds and getting a taste of the undergraduate experience, I learned that the negative stereotypes concerning Hopkins are based more on fearful speculation than actual experience.
Among the go-to questions that you’re bound to be asked, not only as a freshman but throughout your years at Hopkins, are the ever-daunting “What’s your major?” or “What are you interested in?”
Clarissa Chen, president of Refuel our Future, explained that one thing she learned from her efforts to persuade Hopkins to divest from fossil fuels is the unique ability of Hopkins students to sway the University. She reminded future student activists to recognize and use this.
People often say that love makes you do crazy things. During the winter break of my freshman year — still sad about the end of my first high school relationship — those crazy things included watching clips of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind on loop, crying in bed for hours and rereading old messages late at night. Needless to say, I was not the most fun person to be around.
Around this time last year, I wrote about how Supergirl had never given Kara Danvers (Melissa Benoist) a good romantic storyline. This season, she has fortunately not been forced into another cringey relationship, but that’s only because she’s been hung up on her most recent ex, Mon-El (Chris Wood), who never deserved her in the first place.
It hurts to exist in a constant state of holding my breath, precariously piling on commitments, hoping that everything doesn’t come crashing down. So I’ll revel in the quiet, attentive to what my body and mind try to tell me. Exhale.
Hey, Rollin and Sam here, just your friendly neighborhood Editors-in-Chief. As our time wraps up, we decided that it’s apt to reflect on and construct some notion of closure around the job that has consumed our lives for the past year.
Maybe for a long time I didn’t think too much about the trauma left by the Pulse shooting, but it came out when I tried to write poems.
It is about time that we stop making excuses for men’s misbehavior. No matter how small, sexual harassment is unacceptable, and I, for one, am done being sad about it. I am furious.
As a queer person, I feel like I have an obligation to be an activist, but I’ve struggled with what that means for me. Is this column activism? Is writing a short story with a queer protagonist activism? Is educating my cisgender heterosexual peers about LGBTQ issues activism?
I’ve always had a vague interest in comic books but could never get into the superhero genre at all — until I began watching the movies that is. But superhero movies have been around for a while, and they’ve never been as popular as they are now. What caused the change?
I’ve always loved both science and writing. During my senior year of high school, as I wrote my college essays, I tried to find a way to weave the two together into a feasible future for myself: to explain why I love poems that overflow with biological imagery; to try to articulate the parallels I saw in the processes of biology and creating literature. And then when I read the book The Lives of a Cell by Lewis Thomas, I felt like all my efforts were put to shame.
By the end of high school, everyone in my life, especially me, had accepted that I had a depressing personality. But a mood disorder is not a personality trait.
I’m grateful that junior year is coming to a close, thankful to be out of the mindset that every week is hell week and every day is a poor day. There is no sugarcoating reality: It’s grueling to be a college student, no matter how much you love your major or how much you enjoy studying.
