The pair of us were swathed in warm rays of sunlight streaming from the big windows in 1515, illuminating the few drops of caramel that had dripped down to the metal grommets of her already stained white converse—probably from a drink she had just made during a shift as a part time barista. She tried to pick off the hardened caramel, then shrugged nonchalantly because after all, it wasn’t that big of a deal.
Lindsey Smith is the only second year on the Iris magazine staff this year. She deftly writes in a variety of genres, from funny and witty sociocultural commentary to more intimate and vulnerable pieces about her own lived experiences. Ask anyone on the Iris staff, it’s Lindsey’s unique voice that remains with them, the words are always alive, breathing off the page. Lindsey says she has little writing experience, but between you and me, she’s just being modest.
Earlier she sweetly offered to make me a drink if I wanted. I foolishly declined, excusing myself because I already had my caffeine intake of the day, but my morning mug of English Breakfast suddenly seemed bland upon seeing her drink.
I caught up with Lindsey after her afternoon shift at Starbucks and before her Sociology office hours—Wednesdays are no mean feat. Since my Professor ended our Storytelling and Media class early that day, I got to 1515 a little earlier than expected, but when Lindsey walked through the double doors I waved her over to my spot in the coveted window seats. She mentions that she’s never sat up here, but never missing an opportunity to try something new, she hops right up on the window seat leaning back into the large pillow.
After setting her backpack to the ground, she turns to face me, Starbucks drink in hand, a sweet reward after her barista shift that ended only a couple hundred feet away. Earlier she sweetly offered to make me a drink if I wanted. I foolishly declined, excusing myself because I already had my caffeine intake of the day, but my morning mug of English Breakfast suddenly seemed bland upon seeing her drink. Honestly, I’m not convinced if my self imposed coffee-ban will last that long (spoiler: it didn’t).
Giggling over this cornerstone in our adolescence, I admit to being secretly impressed at the number of Lindsey’s Wattpad followers and moderate fame. My eighth grade, fourteen-year old self was in awe, might I add even, slightly jealous?
We hit play on her computer that has the recording software, initially talking about everything and anything with no grand theme in mind. We’re writers, so of course the conversation turns to the steadfast, cherished companions of any good writer—books! We quickly bonded over shared fondness for reading, and realized how the discovery of fanfiction was a monumental milestone in our tween and teen years. Giggling over this cornerstone in our adolescence, I admit to being secretly impressed at the number of Lindsey’s Wattpad followers and moderate fame. My eighth grade, fourteen-year old self was in awe, might I add even, slightly jealous?
Joining the University Dance Club (UDC) her first year, Lindsey first heard about Iris Magazine via the UDC choreography chair at the time, Hailey Robbins who had interned for the Magazine that year. (Iris alum Hailey if you’re reading this we love you, you’re the best!!)
“I was friends with Hailey Robbins, she was in my dance club. And she would post her stuff on her [Instagram] story. And I'd go in and read it because I'm nosy. I was like, ‘she's such a good writer.’ And then I was, you know, I like writing, [but] I hadn't creatively written in a very long time before Iris.”
Inspired, and excited to try her hand at writing outside the realm of the standard academic paper, Lindsey did what any ambitious UVA student would do—wrote her Iris Magazine internship application at the Taylor Swift Boylan Trivia Night.
Inspired, and excited to try her hand at writing outside the realm of the standard academic paper, Lindsey did what any ambitious UVA student would do—wrote her Iris Magazine internship application at the Taylor Swift Boylan Trivia Night. Needless to say, it worked out well, didn’t it?
Before UVA, Lindsey wrote mainly for herself, and was also involved in her high school’s yearbook, manning the helm as the Editor during her senior year. But she quickly found herself yearning for more.
“Iris is the thing at UVA [that’s] really helping me become more confident [in] my opinions. I come from a really small town and a really small high school. It was very much that if you were doing something differently from everybody else,…that was weird. No one was creative writing.”
Now at UVA, Iris has opened up her writing world, especially since the magazine gives wide creative liberties to its writers.
“I'll say whatever I want in this. What is anyone else gonna do about it? That's, I think one of the best parts of [Iris]—you can write literally whatever you want, obviously, according to the theme, but it's all your opinions. The creative control and direction that I [can] set is so different from any other organization.”
Iris has been a space for Lindsey to hone her writing skills, but most importantly, it helped boost her confidence, both as a woman and as a writer.
Iris has been a space for Lindsey to hone her writing skills, but most importantly, it helped boost her confidence, both as a woman and as a writer, after a negative high school experience with Model General Assembly—a club similar to Model UN, except on a state basis, she explained.
“In high school, I was really big into Model General Assembly. My junior year, I got elected as youth governor. Then my senior year came and this [was] the first one we had in person after COVID. And I was like, ‘okay, I'm excited to run this conference.’ But everyone was really hateful. I know deep down it was nothing else but [the fact that] I was a woman. It was just all men poking at me the entire time and I was like, ‘Wow, I really hate this.’ I feel like I became a lot less confident in my opinions after that experience. I feel like it should have been the opposite.”
Happily, Lindsey has a home for her voice and her writing in Iris, among her other extracurriculars, and relishes in her reignited self-agency. She’s not afraid to tell it like it is, with innovative takes on social media trends that have overtaken the internet, trying her hand at poetry, or penning stunning reflective essays.
"What’s your favorite piece in Iris, something you or someone else has written," I ask.
Her response is immediate. Her favorite piece for Iris is her first—you never do forget your first.
Yet, a few stray feathers still cling, askew, to the brittled branches she still calls home, so she reckons with the push and pull of the tides, questioning should she stay or should she go?
"a requiem to my hometown" recalls her roots in the Eastern Shore, where she sees herself as a bird in flight, in perpetual motion, who does not want to return to the nest. Yet, a few stray feathers still cling, askew, to the brittled branches she still calls home, so she reckons with the push and pull of the tides, questioning should she stay or should she go? Though a semester has passed, her piece is still fresh for me because her lyrical poetry is simply hauntingly beautiful.
Lindsey has such a unique, sincere and powerful voice, painted so vividly it is as if you were there with her, marinating in it all. Her word, not mine.
Even now, Lindsey’s writing has garnered slight fame on Facebook when her mom first shared it with their family and friends back home on the Eastern Shore who, after reading, deeply resonated with her piece.
The accompanying illustration for her requiem was a surprising new dimension for Lindsey, but it slid directly into place like a puzzle piece, the art finding its contours among her winding words. A unique part of Iris Magazine that most writers still in university don’t always get to experience, is having a fellow student artist work alongside you to create a design that complements your written work to tell the story across a visual medium. For Lindsey, that impact was monumental.
“When I saw the artwork for that piece…I just burst into tears…I literally had to pick myself up from the chair and just walk out [of class],” Lindsey recalls.
But in the future, ten, twenty years down the line, I’ll be proud to say I know Lindsey Smith, novelist and immigration attorney hand in hand, when we were both in college writing for our feminist magazine.
Her most recent piece, "Things that Weren’t on my 2024 Bingo Card: Preteens Terrorizing Sephora Employees," uncovers the social implications of the so-called Sephora Kids trend. After almost drawing a blank during the first pitch meeting of the spring semester, she thought back to her winter break and not so fondly remembered her run in with a few pre-teens shoving past her in a Sephora. Despite her witty and critical analysis, Lindsey kindly reminds us that this phenomenon we’re seeing is a lot bigger than the theories blaming only the unrestricted internet access or the lack of “good” public-facing role models.
“I feel like we have to take a more nuanced approach. I see a lot of people just hating on them. Okay, but also remember that these are kids and we made them like this, regardless of how this happened,…we need to be a little bit more gentle.”
In the future, Lindsey hopes to write a series of novels, and has strong aspirations to become a lawyer. In the meantime, you’ll find her savoring some free time from her double major in sociology and public policy, curled up playing video games on the PC that she built herself, and reading Fourth Wing for fun if she’s emotionally drained from her current read, Tomorrow, Tomorrow and Tomorrow. But in the future, ten, twenty years down the line, I’ll be proud to say I know Lindsey Smith, novelist and immigration attorney hand in hand, when we were both in college writing for our feminist magazine.
Fading echoes of voices bounced back and forth on the brick walls and a gaggle of green chairs left behind in a circle whispered to the sweet summer breeze, Iris was here.
post. script.
Lindsey, when you said “I’m intimidated” to write a profile on me in that edit meeting two weeks ago, I must confess, I was surprised (in a good way!). I’m always so blown away by every article that I’ve gotten the privilege to read and occasionally edit. In a way, it somehow reminds me of my own first year writing for Iris Magazine. Maybe you’ve got it wrong, because I might have been intimidated by you ever since the conclusion of our first Iris meeting this year, outside in the sweltering August heat under the steps of the Rotunda. Fading echoes of voices bounced back and forth on the brick walls and a gaggle of green chairs left behind in a circle whispered to the sweet summer breeze, Iris was here.
