After embracing my authentic self during the span of an academic year, I packed my bags to head home — and, with my clothes, conditionally put away a part of myself. Read on
My Story / all
I could hardly sit still in my seat on my flight to Spain. Once I got there, I often thought of the Latino and Hispanic people back home in America — and how some Americans mistreat them due to the language barrier. Read on
What do waist trainers, butt lifters and booty pop cream all have in common? Women feel pressure to look a certain away and some products marketed to women can be damaging. Read on
I wanted to spend the last week of Ramadan reporting on what I saw, heard, and tasted. I wanted to shine a light — a miles-wide, fluorescent, neon floodlight — on the positive that is evident every day to me in my community. I reported on Ramadan while remembering that no photo or soundbite can document the vastness of Islam in Atlanta. Read on
I hated every second of my time in psychiatric treatment. I spent every moment wanting to leave, wanting to be rid of that place, and feeling confined. But I got something good out of it, too. Read on
Part of me — the part that aspired to be the Perfect Sophomore, the Perfect Junior, the Perfect Senior — wants to spend the summer working toward becoming the Perfect College Freshman or the Perfect Adult. But she does not exist... Read on
