By Van An Trinh ‘24
I’ve always felt like I was a first draft of a person. Every environment I’ve been in has highlighted an unbridgeable difference between myself and the richness of others—like I should have contained a self, somewhere, that was lost in the gap between my actions and their bearing on who I was.
Read MoreBy Maggie Erwin ‘23
I have been measuring the surrounding ecosystem of a small oak tree near the lake: the mushrooms that pop up (evidence of the rich underground network of mycelium and roots communicating with one another), the bees that frequent the flowers, the grasses, and the changing leaves.
Read MoreBy Lizette Mier ‘22
You’ve followed me everywhere I’ve gone since I left your beaches and your Athenian streets. I saw your ghost in the palm trees and dry lands of my home in Phoenix. I felt your spirit, as I navigated language barriers in Denmark, however brief it was with Danish.
Read MoreBy Counterpoint Staff
Which Wellesley bathrooms are lawful good, true neutral, chaotic evil, etc.? Our classifications.
Read Moreby Rachel Desmond' ‘22
CW: Graphic descriptions
I think my fifteen-year-old self getting a black belt says a lot about who I am as a twenty-two-year-old. That black belt says that right as I was hitting puberty—a time when many girls have to relinquish the safety of a prepubescent body—I was learning how to take a punch.
Read Moreby Harper Elrod ‘25
CW: Alcohol mention, anti-Latine sentiment discussed, anti-Black racism discussed, classism discussed, depiction of domestic violence, reclamation of the D slur
When I ask the organizer of Dyke Ball if there will be a space for those who struggle with addiction and have trauma around alcohol, I am told that while I won’t be forced to be in a space where alcohol is served, there will be drunk people attending, wherever I choose to be.
Read Moreby Lauren Witt ‘24
Strolling through campus brings up a strange, subtle feeling, like stumbling upon a place you once visited in a dream. On the surface, nothing has really changed, but everything has a distinct, vibrant hue.
Read MoreBy Riya Balachandran ‘24
Crouched naked on the ground, my hands and knees are digging into the rug I can never clean right. I’m sitting in front of a small fan with tears in my eyes and lingering traces of isopropyl on my fingertips.
Read MoreBy Nabeela Zoss ‘23
CW: Unspecified student death
I wonder what happens to the students who die at Wellesley College.
Read MoreBy Anonymous
CW: death of a parent & mention of suicide
Mother. Wound. Growth. I allow the calm, familiar sound of cicadas to push aside the mess of thoughts that constantly pulses across my brain. The smell of trees and soft soil fill my lungs with every inhale and exhale. I feel the presence of others, the dependence I have on them, slipping away.
Read MoreBy Dani Pergola ‘21
When I got to Wellesley, I planned to approach it just like high school. Do the right thing, do all my work, and get the good grades I deserved. It only took a month for me to realize I was totally fucked.
Read MoreBy Abby Schleichkorn ‘21
When you walk around campus, do you see the smiles shared, the friendships made, the tears shed, the place where the Peter used to pick us up, the exact place where you found out you got an A on THAT paper? I know I do. That is the unspoken language of place––I see my memories, and you see yours.
Read MoreBy Natalie Marshall ‘21
I’ve been sitting on my bed in my second-floor Sev room for hours, trying to make sense of my “Wellesley experience.” Or, more specifically, trying to put it down in a neat couple thousand words. My problem is that I want it to have a linear arc, a beginning, middle, and end.
Read MoreBy Counterpoint Staff
Ascend to the top of the Galen Stone Tower.
Fall unconditionally in love with: a building.
By G.I. Titmouse
Dear Myself Four Years Ago Today,
Nope. We had no idea. Who knew? How could anyone know? The last four years have been insane. Here is a very incomplete list of 21 things to come between now and May—no, June—2021:
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