Monthly Archives: January 2020
by Madison Tissue | Jan 31, 2020 |
My grandmother is slowly forgetting. Everything.
by Sophia Medewar | Jan 30, 2020 |
Jesus’s ambiguous (or else horribly inaccurate) ethnicity isn’t even my main problem with most of the ways Jesus is depicted in media. It’s that he’s often ridiculously and unbearably boring.
by Aemelia Tripp | Jan 30, 2020 |
Like if I stand still for too long, I’ll melt into a little grief puddle.
by Erin Haagsma | Jan 29, 2020 |
Linguistics helps us rediscover the gift of language, a gift that we haven’t lost but have neglected to say thank you for.
by Jon Gorter | Jan 28, 2020 |
Out of the corner of my eye, a grey bolt of lightning shot out from behind the gothic-style church on the corner across from North Quad.
by Brad Zwiers | Jan 27, 2020 |
Kobe Bryant was more than a basketball player; that much has never been in doubt.
by Katie Van Zanen | Jan 25, 2020 |
Each week during the prayers of the people I make a mental inventory: do I know anyone who is ill? Anyone who is grieving? Anyone job-searching, traveling, celebrating?
by Jeffrey Peterson | Jan 24, 2020 |
In other words, though our memories and fantasies are more silhouettes of sensations than sensations themselves, past, present, and future all look more or less the same.
by Alex Westenbroek | Jan 23, 2020 |
People have been singing to each other since approximately Forever B.C.E., and I think there’s a reason.
by Kelli Grimm | Jan 22, 2020 |
It’s a road trip to New York and it’s eating cookie dough until you’re sick. It’s a rejection email from a job you don’t remember applying for and it’s winning free fries for a year.
by Emily Joy Stroble | Jan 21, 2020 |
What is it like to have your life swallowed up in someone else’s epic?
by Gabe Gunnink | Jan 20, 2020 |
Here’s the thing: I don’t know what a goatsphynx is, but I’m starting to believe it may not be as scary as it sounds.
by Mary Margaret Healy | Jan 19, 2020 |
Mana, spell slots, pocket monsters, and midnight showings are all these worlds ever need.
by Ben DeVries | Jan 18, 2020 |
I’ve kept revisiting the fact of Jes’s sickness, worrying it as I would a loose tooth, over and over again, in one essay after another.
by Laura Sheppard | Jan 17, 2020 |
I find myself erasing paragraphs from my drafts in which I apologize for writing it at all.
by Kyric Koning | Jan 16, 2020 |
Discovering each new piece of her was a treasure only surpassed by the next discovery. It did not take too long before she agreed to make our relationship official.
by Courtney Zonnefeld | Jan 15, 2020 |
While the myth of the lone genius is dangerous for the successful artist, it is absolutely cruel to the aspiring artist.
by Will Montei | Jan 14, 2020 |
I didn’t like my room when I first moved in. It didn’t have Flynn, for one thing.
by Olivia Harre | Jan 13, 2020 |
There’s a warm spot on the floor in front of the refrigerator—my favorite spot to think.
by Abby Zwart | Jan 12, 2020 |
You’re not supposed to say yes to everything these days. I know.
by Matt Cambridge | Jan 11, 2020 |
Inside these walls, we aren’t robots.
Inside these walls, we are artists.
by Jordan Petersen Kamp | Jan 10, 2020 |
The reasons for rock’s indifference towards indie’s old hegemony are several.
by Gwyneth Findlay | Jan 9, 2020 |
Bodies fail our expectations; that is what it is to be embodied.
by Josh Parks | Jan 8, 2020 |
Dear Supportive Friends, Middle School English Teachers, and Madcap Coffee:
by Caroline (Higgins) Nyczak | Jan 7, 2020 |
Anyway we walk quickly because it’s cold and I say, “I’m thirty!” but I’m also fourteen and twenty-one and making all those mistakes.
by Alex Johnson | Jan 5, 2020 |
As Smith, Buber, and Gerwig remind me, we cannot be fully actualized people to everyone we meet
by Comfort Sampong | Jan 4, 2020 |
Another holiday, another rustling through my luggage of words to find poignant answers for the question.
by Ansley Kelly | Jan 3, 2020 |
This is the grace of God: that in our darkest grief and our most motionless despondency, He continues to move.
by Cotter Koopman | Jan 2, 2020 |
As the instruments strain and build, the chorus is repeated again and again, and her intimate scene-setting folds into a recollection.
