we cannot heal without discussing what has occurred,” writes Jessy Wallach PO ’29. “For better or worse, we are experienced at grieving these tragedies. Let us not grow experienced in having these incidents fail to register as tragedies at all.”
Tag: Grief
Freshman Files: Reassurance in my Trader Joe’s shopping cart
Why do we feel happy when a Trader Joe’s cashier compliments our grocery, even after we know they’re trained to do so? Anna Ripper Naigeborin PO ’28 reflects on her silent quest for reassurance.
‘My hand followed hers’: Exploring a mother-daughter relationship through April Katz’s ‘Marking Time’
Exploring a mother and daughter’s relationship through the role of calendars in day-to-day life, April Katz’s “Marking Time” deals with themes of loss, grief and the passage of time. The exhibit opened at Scripps College’s Clark Humanities Museum on Feb. 6.
Word for Word: Finding solace in Osamu Dazai’s ‘Schoolgirl’
Could a young girl possibly identify with a female character written by a man? Literature columnist Anna R. Naigeborin PO ’28 writes about her experience reading Modern Japanese author Osamu Dazai.
Moments to Savor: soupy feelings at the start of senior year
Emily Kim PO ’25 reflects on her emotional start to senior year, and how she found unexpected comfort in a ramen bowl upon move-in.
OPINION: Missing people you’ve never met is a valid experience
Grieving for someone you have never met is a valid and normal experience, argues Mishaal Ijaz SC ’24.
‘Nomadland’ redefines our idea of home in a breathtaking journey across the West
With its focus on a nomadic woman’s solitary journey west, “Nomadland” may appear to be about only individualism — but in reality, it’s mainly about community, Claire DuMont SC ’23 writes.
Reflexive: How I had to fall apart to start taking care of myself
Relationships columnist Micaela Macagnone PO ’20 writes about her semester abroad in Madrid and sobering return home after her father’s passing. She reflects on how she found self care amidst grief: “I don’t think I’ll ever forget the day we moved — lying on my bedroom floor, with the sun shining through the windows onto the furniture-less wood floor, sobbing while trying my absolute hardest to remember the look of the ceiling, walls and floors.”