“This is 42nd Street-Port Authority Bus Terminal. Transfer is available to the 1, 2, 3, 7, A, E, N, and Q trains. Step into the train. Stand clear of the closing doors. ” This is it. Pushing slightly against the crowd I disembark the n-line train. A few steps away from me the 1 train is pulling into the station, the train taking me to the Upper West Side—or so I think. Enveloped by a throng of people, I don’t even bother to check whether it’s going north or south. I am navigating the subway on my own for the first time, loving every minute of it...
For as long as I can remember, I have always been on the defensive. Raised in the south by liberal, Jewish parents, I have never experienced what it is like to agree with the opinion of the majority. I am unaware of what it feels like to hold an opinion infallible only by virtue of its widespread acceptance. However, my refusal to conform has not been for a lack of opportunity...
As an applicant to the Huntsman Program in International Studies and Business, deciding between the Wharton School and the College of Arts and Sciences is incredibly difficult. Working as the financial analyst for Urban Plan, a mixed-use redevelopment simulation for microeconomics class, I realized how passionately I feel about studying business...
I have always loved to dance. I have never even taken a professional dance class but I know dancing is something that I was born to do. On stage, dancing, is where I feel the most content. For Dance Concert, the stage represents my youth and my growth; ironically, during all of the construction that my school has gone through, the one part that hasn't been touched is that stage...
Illuminated by the stark fluorescent lights overhead, I gripped the rubber handles of the wheelchair tighter and raced down Aisle 9-- feet pounding against the tiled floor, heart slamming against my chest. The bright groceries and alarmed shoppers blurred in my peripheral vision-- my grandma and I the only people that mattered in that moment...
I giggled with glee as my X-Acto knife pierced the binding of Where’d You Go, Bernadette?, slowly ripping the pages out with childish delight. My phone’s screen displayed a bold 5:03 AM. The world began to come alive just outside the window-- the blackness of the sky becoming a murky gray, the tired little birds chirping out a cheery tune, the slamming car doors of night shift employees echoing in the heavy summer heat...
“On my honor, I will do my best to do my duty to God and my country and to obey the Scout law; to help other people at all times; to keep myself physically strong, mentally awake and morally straight.” These words make up the the Scout Oath, and are so universal as to be cliche and through them and the ideal they propose, generations of boy scouts have become men. But as with any code, the Scout Law is open to interpretation...
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