This past May, I moved out of my first non-dorm housing in Berlin. Behind a dense pile of important documents that had been pressed tightly (carelessly?) against my bedroom wall, I rediscovered my Language and Thinking notebook, about half-filled and bound in red Bard College Berlin cardstock. I also found the course reader, stuffed with
Attending the annual Berlin Christopher Street Day Parade this past weekend marked my second experience with the increasingly global phenomenon of LGBT Pride. My first experience took place in my home city, Boston, USA, in the summer after I graduated high school. I remember the anticipation leading up to this first exposure to LGBT cultural
About a month ago I applied for an American tourist visa at the US embassy in Skopje because I plan on visiting my boyfriend there during fall break. Admittedly, I felt a little resentful of the process. Security guards with guns they weren’t going to use led us into the waiting room
I had met Aya Ibrahim (2015 BA alumna) before but was only properly introduced to her work earlier this year when she sat down with a group of current students to talk about transitioning from our liberal arts Pankow campus to the sometimes turbulent world of broadcast journalism. Confident, well articulated and clear-headed, she sat
About two months ago, on one of those perfect days that alluded to the upcoming Berlin summer, I was craving falafel. I stopped at one of the many Dönerbuden that line the streets of this city (near Eberswalder Straße, if anyone’s curious) to give into my cravings. After encountering the chirpy vendor and ordering my
Our memories are sculpted through the constant wrestling of forgetfulness and remembrance. Time is given a name and calendarized; we make sense of our past, present, and future as triplet brothers identified under the deceivingly named “I”. This universe of being sometimes talks about the weather twice a day, filling in gaps created by silence.
“Are we still in Berlin?” My wide-eyed, black-clad friend, Neuköllner to the bone, certainly feels out of place on Am Iderfenngraben. On her face, I read: What is this land that the M1 tram drops people off at, where cashiers speak German and only German, Altbauten lack a fifth floor, and stickers on lamp posts