Compared to the fall, the spring season carries with it a palpable shift in tone. Especially speaking as a fourth-year student here at UVA, I haven’t been able to go a single week without suddenly being ambushed by a wave of “it’s almost over,” something I didn’t experience much if at all during the fall. It’s not just those of us who are rapidly approaching graduation either; there’s a thick cloud of anticipation hanging over our Grounds, possibly our entire country. From a new Congress to a new award season–even a new MCU installment this month! 2023 is still so young, and none of us really knows what to think of it all. These are the issues we’ve asked our writers to grapple with for our first issue of the new year: how we feel anticipation manifest in our daily lives.
Of course, the most common way we see and talk about anticipation is in regards to media. Whether through books, TV shows, movies, or other popular culture, you don’t need to look very hard to find a new property people are excited for, or a new property that plays off of relevant anxieties and excitements in this moment. Exploring the zeitgeist through the return of angsty musical styles and tones in pop music, Eryn Rhodes questions how exactly the feel of music connects with modern day anxieties and identity in “The Radio Rock Revival: The Kids Are Not Alright.” Along similar lines, Kiki McLaughlin turns her attention to post-apocalyptic dramas like The Last of Us, and asks why exactly are we spending so much time on these stories when we’re already living in what feels like “Our Own Apocalypse.” The several-year-long buildup to Disney’s upcoming adaptation of The Little Mermaid fuels “Memories of a Mermaid,” Miriella Jiffar’s personal reflection on how casting choices recontextualize the important stories from our childhood.
Pop culture is a community experience, something we can all connect to and in turn use to connect to one another. Bailey Middleton’s “When I Exploded” describes the way energy can change in a crowd as we all come together in anticipation of a singular event, gathering tension and emotional momentum until we reach catharsis. In coming together, we form a unified identity. A new poem from Linlin Wu describes her idealized world where notions of gender and sexuality have expanded to encompass everyone in all their complexities, forming a “Queer Utopia.” The shared experiences that define us aren’t limited to the present or a hypothetical future, either; it carries over to the past as well. Word on the street is, the peplum tops and high-low skirts from the 2010s are making a comeback, and while anyone who lived through that time period is screaming in terror of its return, Cheyenne Butler is here to meditate on how the trend cycle functions, and who it functions for in “The 2010s Are Back Already?”
Beyond community, there are deeply personal ways in which we tie events and anticipation to our own lives, stories and identities. In “When Will You Come Home?” Jasmine Wang provides a thoughtful, glowing reflection on Lunar New Year, a holiday that holds great significance for Asian Americans who may struggle to find space for their identity outside of the holiday. Haily Robbins also reflects on personal narratives in an experimental, dynamic, abstract poem about everything from laundry detergent from the 2000s, to ballet books being thrown through windows, and dobsonflies. “An Elephant?” explores grief over an idealized past that one must process in order to grow up and move on.
Despite what my brain may tell me, it’s not all coming to an end, and there is still so much to look forward to as we move through this spring semester. I hope our readers have been anticipating Iris’ return in the new year as much as I have. As always, special thanks to Mary Esselman, Addie Gilligan and KJ Villanueva for all your help and hard work in putting this issue together.
