In November when Trump won the presidency of the United States, that Friday I went to a party. It was interesting, as the lone American in the room I was bombarded with questions. “How do you feel? How could America vote him?” Then they tried reassuring me, “not much will happen… He is just a politician. They don’t do much anyways.” It was interesting, because as a history major, I shut my mouth – not wanting to start anything at a birthday party. Continue reading “When the World is Watching : Macron vs. Le Pen”
I am the daughter of an immigrant. Continue reading “Daughter of an Immigrant”
Two Years Ago
An article I wrote in the midst of my anger.
“No child left behind, that’s the American scheme” raps Macklemore in Ten Thousand Hours, words that to me, resonated as I drove by the high school I graduated from.
Continue reading “No Child Left Behind… But I Was: Building My Own Dream”
When I moved to Paris, I realized my femininity. I was in the big city and I wanted to dress well, forgetting the small town norms of jeans and a t-shirt and feeling self-conscious when wearing red-lipstick, I went all out in heels and dresses that made me feel beautiful. I wore pumps for the first time, bought myself a sexy romper for girl’s night (first time I ever truly dressed sexy and a little provocative) and you can now see me always sporting the lipstick, what my friends now call V’s trademark. I always highly believed that my self-conscious of being slightly revealing was due to my body image. This weekend while reading #WhenIWas tweets, I had a sudden flashback to 5th grade. Continue reading “#WhenIWas: Growing Up as a Girl “
Before I start, I don’t mean to personally attack or make anyone feel uncomfortable. I also want to say, I love Belgium, I love Brussels and love the family I have in that country. I am so grateful that they are OK. Continue reading “Attacks and the Effects of Social Media “
It’s taken me a while to put these words together. I do not want to misspeak. What happened on Friday, November 13th, 2015 is unimaginable, and I can only imagine what the victim’s friends and family and the people who were an audience to the horrors of that night are going through. I was luckily far away from anything that happened (even though the original plans for the night were to be around the area where the events occured, in the 10th and 11th arrondissements. For some reason, we changed plans last minute). I was in the 15th arrondissement at a friend’s apartment (near the Eiffel Tower). It seemed like a normal night. We were making mulled wine and telling stories. My friend received a message from a friend saying that they had heard what was going on in Paris and that she hoped that everything was going well. We were confused. What was happening in Paris? I then looked down at my phone to figure out what was going on and Fred was calling me. Continue reading “An Aftermath of Paris”
Bullets can’t stop pen.
“We are free! We are Charlie!” I chanted along with thousands of other people as we walked the streets of Paris this past Sunday, January 11th, 2015. It felt like I was in the heart of free expression. On Monday, January 12th, every newspaper and magazine filled with words such as “Liberty will beat terrorism, live liberty and free expression…”