Think About This
Art by Kim Salac
November 19, 2020
It was a late night and I found myself feeling particularly disheartened at the state of the world during these “unprecedented times.” So, in an attempt to cope, I turned on some tunes. But the tunes did not help. Surprisingly, I shed a tear, maybe even two, over Avril Lavgine’s iconic song “Sk8er Boi.” Although I will admit I cry rather easily, this was out of the ordinary; but as the overwhelming pressures and suspense of “real life” built, my mind ran away with my interpretations. I no
Art by Kim Salac
November 18, 2020
Zenaida opened his eyes on a couch to a crowd of voices surrounding him. He could see no people. He saw a small round table decorated in a dinosaur party theme with what had been a large T-rex ice sculpture. It looked like it had a broken neck bent backwards and the arms were nearly completely missing. He glanced at the puddle underneath.
“We apologize for the ice sculpture. We hadn’t anticipated how long you would be unconscious,” a voice spoke from in front of him. He
Art by Kim Salac
October 28, 2020
Before anyone gets mad, the answer is a resounding NO. You simply cannot; well, at least, not if you care about someone other than yourself (I am looking at white people specifically, yeah, you). You see, the issue with separating morals from politics lies in how privileged you are. The more privileged you are, the more you can separate the two, because the repercussions decrease the higher up the ladder you go. I’ve had this heated discussion with the same person at least six times
Art by Kim Salac
October 15, 2020
Picture a family. How many children do you see? How many parents? Mother, father, boy, girl: the nuclear family almost always appears as a two-parent household with (usually) two children. One child or two, “the family,” according to popular media, has two parents.
That is not the reality for me; I am a part of a two-person family -- one child, one parent.
Just as an only child behaves differently than a child with siblings, a single-parent household functions differently
Art by Kim Salac
September 29, 2020
I wrestled with the Brita filter for maybe 12 minutes this morning, which is at least 10 minutes too many. The filter refused to fit correctly, and I was exhausted, but eventually I triumphed— exciting because it seems to me that water may be the cure for everything. “Have you been drinking enough water?” “Drink more water.” “Hydrate or die-drate.” I assume there’s at least an ounce of truth in that considering the human body is 60% water.
Admittedly, I don’t drink enough water. I
September 15, 2020
Growing up with a fully Japanese grandmother and a half-Japanese mother, I have often seen them take hits from racists over their skin color, eye shape, face shape, and my grandmother’s accent. I have heard a cacophony of racist names thrown with precision at my family, and yes, chink thrown at me. I even, once, was called a “dumb Asian,” and I just laughed at the reverse stereotyping he had tried to pull on me.
I do not ‘look’ as Asian as my grandmother, mother, and younger
September 15, 2020
Truthfully and begrudgingly, this season, the existential swamp that is 2020, has brought about more questions than I care to count. Who of us hasn’t looked into the mirror and asked: am I doing any of this right? What will be my life’s greatest work? Am I doing it right now? (Just me?)
Here is my rebel yell: Blue Jay. I hope you will yell with me.
This poem was born out of memory, existential inquisition, longing; each
Art by Kirsten Hemrich
April 20, 2020
…
When I think of ellipses, I think of more to come. Or depending on its placement, sometimes it means there was something before. I’m not sure where my placement of ellipses goes in this piece—or what it represents. I’m not sure where my placement in this world is at the moment.
And for some reason I keep trying to force that knowledge upon myself. I keep trying to make myself sit down and write about my past four years at the University of Virginia, so I can lead you
Art by Kirsten Hemrich
April 20, 2020
Magazines have a habit of piling up at my house. I suppose I could cancel the subscriptions, but I'm a child of the 80s and, while I value finding articles on my phone and laptop, I’m not ready to give up print magazines. My budding feminist sensibilities were formed by reading my mother's
Art by Kirsten Hemrich
April 11, 2020
Easter always begins the same way for my family. My mother and aunt compete to see who can call my grandpa first on Easter morning to say, “The Lord has risen,” to which my grandpa will respond, “Indeed.” Last year my mom woke at the break of dawn to beat my aunt, but generally my aunt wins. Then my grandpa will call my cousins, brother, and me to relay the same message. As a whole, we’ve always been “indeeders,” rather than “the Lord has risen-ers.” This year is so bizarre because nearly