A Thesis on Change
It’s 6 a.m., still dark and cold outside in the early March gloom, when Temple University third–year Ph.D. student Daniel Carsello leaves his apartment to pick up the UHaul loaded with supplies.
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It’s 6 a.m., still dark and cold outside in the early March gloom, when Temple University third–year Ph.D. student Daniel Carsello leaves his apartment to pick up the UHaul loaded with supplies.
If you’re used to Penn’s infamous pre–professional culture, walking into the studio of WQHS—the University’s only student–run radio station—might feel like a culture shock. Graffiti scrawled across the bright blue walls declares that “love is the answer” and “love is fury,” while overflowing racks and bookcase shelves full of CDs and vinyl records provide ample inspiration for any music lover.
Towering high–heels, flashy dresses, and colorful wigs: the iconic symbols of drag performance, a powerful form of art. What was once a countercultural rebellion, drag has since become a well–known phenomenon, generating both fanaticism and contention.
After snoozing your alarm three times, you roll out of bed in a rush, throw on a pair of pants you picked up from the floor, and weave your way through the throng of students on Locust heading to their 10:15 classes. Students like Christina Kim (E ‘22), however, don’t have this luxury—she regularly had to wake up at 5:45 a.m. to get to campus on time.
At 7 p.m. on a 30–degree winter night, the bundled up masses of high school and college students could only be going to one place. No, not a frat, a BYO, or a date night, but a house show. Similar to '90s Riot grrrl movement in Olympia or the early 2000s alternative scene in NYC, the house show scene is characteristic of what it means to listen to music in Philly. The scene is underground, and the people who inhabit it are much like me and you, except cooler. They smoke Marlboros, have mullets, and wear tight muscle shirts with wide–legged pants.
What makes life worth living? What factors contribute to happiness? What are the best paths to success? Positive psychology, the study of well–being, seeks to answer these questions and more. The field was popularized in the late 1990s by former President of the American Psychological Association and Penn’s very own Martin Seligman.
For a generation that would rather get run over by a SEPTA bus than be forced to go dark on social media, it's no surprise that having any kind of online presence can naturally progress into a content creation hobby. Now, being an influencer is not only a hobby, but an occupation. Though creators seem to take all shapes and forms, student–influencers have thrived in their own corner of the internet for some time. In particular, student–influencers at Penn (Pennfluencers, if you will) have taken over our for–you pages, but what are the implications of curating a robust online presence?
Students enter college expecting “the best four years of their lives.” Many are on their own for the first time: decorating their dorm rooms with posters, registering for classes they're passionate about, and choosing which frat to party at on Friday night.
Content warning for mention of rape, sexual assault, and suicidality.
There’s something about the Netter Center that makes people want to stay, keeping its former volunteers tied to Penn. Year after year, graduated students mark their work with Netter as the start of their careers, trailing years of undergraduate involvement. There’s no better example to look to than Netter’s founder, Ira Harkavy (C ‘70), who attended Penn as an undergraduate and founded the center in 1992.
Iris Brown, a founder of the gardens at Norris Square Neighborhood Project, sits at a picnic table against the backdrop of a bright–colored pergola inscribed with the word “hope” in three languages as she shares the story of how the Kensington–area urban garden came to be.
In Amedeo Modigliani’s case, it was destiny. Painting was the only path for the winsome, sickly boy whose mother once wrote, “He behaves like a spoiled child, but he does not lack intelligence. We shall have to wait and see what is inside this chrysalis. Perhaps an artist?”
Many of us will experience some form of chronic pain or illness in our lifetime. One study from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention suggests that over half of adults in the United States have been diagnosed with at least one chronic disease, while many grapple with two or more.
Catia Colagioia (C ‘24) grew up less than a mile away from South Philadelphia’s Franklin Delano Roosevelt Park—one of the city’s oldest woodlands.
The phone rings at one o’clock sharp, signaling an incoming call from Diane Cornman–Levy.
On Sept. 7, 2022, more than 100 students, faculty, and staff celebrated the reopening of Locust Walk’s Arts, Research and Culture House (ARCH). After decades of being a hub of student advocacy, cultural houses once relegated to ARCH’s basement like Makuu: The Black Cultural Center, La Casa Latina, and the Pan–Asian American Community House (PAACH) now technically were allowed full use of the building.
Angelina* (‘26) can’t eat most of the food served in Penn’s dining halls. She’s allergic to many of the “Big Nine” food allergens, as well as several other foods. Exposure to any one of these allergens can elicit a range of reactions—running the gamut from mild dermal symptoms to a response as severe as anaphylactic shock.
Stuck in the monotonous limbo between her Spring 2022 graduation and her Fall 2022 post–baccalaureate program, Natasa Rohacs (C ‘22) was profoundly bored. There was not much to do in Philadelphia after her classmates had scattered to take on their post–grad commitments. “There was one day when I was just like, ‘I don't have a hobby right now. I need a hobby,’” Natasa says.
Content warning: The following text describes an incident of sexual assault, which can be disturbing and/or triggering for some readers. Please find resources listed at the bottom of the article.
Imposing cement walls line long stretches of South Philly’s Dudley and Mifflin streets, casting shadows over flocks of students from the neighboring elementary school making their ways home after the end–of–day bell and the occasional car rolling by on the adjacent roads.
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