FORTY-THREE NORTH made waves when it came out this semester. For starters, Kina and I barely publicized the journal, other than by word-of-mouth, so when copies started showing up in spaces around campus, people were attracted to the foreignness of the cover design. It wasn’t Red Weather, our College’s literary magazine—that came out about a week earlier. It wasn’t either of the weeklies—The Spectator or The Duel. And it certainly wasn’t The Daily Bull. When people picked up copies of FORTY-THREE NORTH and perused, it became clear to them right away that this publication wasn’t quite like any other on campus. We were proud.

Below, you can read my own essay that’s published in the first-ever issue of FORTY-THREE NORTH. I wrote it my freshman year, and while it’s certainly not “journalistic work,” it’s something I’m proud of nonetheless.


Sophomore Year Roundup

Didn’t I just start college? How am I halfway done? I’m not saying I feel like a freshman; in fact, I feel like I’m lightyears away from that version of myself. Still, I’m shocked at how quickly two years went by and how much has happened since I first moved into my freshman dorm room.

I’ve learned a lot since that photo was snapped. In my final post as a Hamilton Admission Journalist, you can read about some of the lessons I took away from my sophomore year.

Money Makin’

I sort of stumbled into the world of music publicity this summer when I accepted an internship offer from Universal Republic Records. When I walked into the office on day one, I hadn’t the slightest clue what my day-to-day responsibilities would be, but within a few hours, I learned the ropes of the UR office. My primary focus as an intern is drafting press bulletins after going through the day’s mailings. That means I get to read a lot of newspapers and magazines for the first chunk of my workday. As a hopeful journalist, I can’t complain.

At The Creators Project, I’ve also dabbled in publicity, as one of the site’s main goals is to promote artists using tech in their work. A few days ago, I wrote up a post about a new release from A-Trak and Dillon Francis. Take a look.

In Defense of 20-Somethings

The transition from the teenage years to “adulthood” is a big one—or, at least, it feels big when it’s happening. Being a teenager is a long and mostly painful experience that ends when you turn 20.

I celebrated my 20th in December. The birthday resembled many I’ve had in the recent past. My roommate, Meghan, came to visit me in Millburn, and we went out to dinner with my family. When we got home, I had a few of my good friends over for cake. Whereas other milestone birthdays—such as 13 for myself and 16 for many of my friends—consisted of elaborate parties with official invitations, this one was pretty unremarkable. Not only that: It instilled in me a sort of anxiety.

This generation shrouds the 20-to-29 age bracket in dread. We’re always hearing about how terrible the job market is, and the closer we get to graduation and the “real world,” the more tangible the threat of unemployment becomes.

At the same time as we’re trying to figure out what we want to do, we’re also supposed to be figuring out who we are. You might think the self-discovery chapter of your life will be over when you graduate high school. You might think it’s already over. But I promise you: It’s not.

However, we young adults, the innovators we are, are finding ways to rise against. I’ve met people my age who are CEOs of companies they’ve founded independently. I have some incredibly talented friends who will be interns this summer at companies where they might someday work. I know students who have received prestigious awards in their areas of study, students who are genuinely passionate about what they do.

My point is twofold. First, turning 20 may seem like a rite of passage, but you’re only an adult insofar as you act like one. That being said, a 17-year-old has the capacity to surpass a 22-year old in mental age. Just because you’re in high school doesn’t mean you shouldn’t start taking yourself seriously. There’s so much you can do. Why not start now?

via Hamilton Journals

Marina Abramovic Didn’t Make Me Cry

I don’t remember much of what I learned in elementary school, but I do remember my first exposure to still-life paintings and imitating one of Paul Cézanne’s many portraits of fruit in an “art appreciation” class. At the time, I didn’t really know why Cezanne’s work was interesting, per se. I had no awareness of Art History as a cultural thing and, instead, appreciated the work as it stood on its own. Now, having studied the backgrounds of a number of artists, I’ve learned that a lot of their works are only interesting insofar as they violate certain culturally and temporally engrained conventions and expectations, or only really mean anything with respect to the contexts in which they are created.

Marina Abramovic’s performance art transcends context. The ways in which she pushes the boundaries of bodily form and functionality are beautiful and strange in a way that most any living, breathing person could appreciate—that is, a person from any time period.

Abramovic came to Hamilton earlier this year to talk about her medium of choice. She didn’t perform, but she was very funny.