Street's Class of 2020 Penn 10
In the event of nostalgia–related emergency, press play.
Below are your search results. You can also try a Basic Search.
In the event of nostalgia–related emergency, press play.
Annabelle Williams is a writer. But just about everyone else in her life came to realize that before she did. To Annabelle’s father, she was the “most adult child” he had ever met, constantly clinging to books and absorbing bits of new information. Annabelle’s mother wrote about her “unquenchable desire to read, at all times, in all circumstances.” (She also shared a picture of young Annabelle hula–hooping while reading The Iliad). It’s a mystery how she started out as a Wharton student, when Annabelle has been a writer since she was 12 years old.
The six hushed stories of Van Pelt watched over campus as Cynthia Dumizo (C ‘82) walked past College Hall and the ivy–lined fraternity houses that dotted Locust Walk. A seemingly mundane commute through Penn’s campus turned into a bitter memory in seconds as a student standing outside of a fraternity house caught Dumizo’s attention.
Laura Ng didn’t cry once during nursing school. No tears during her first year and a half of professional nursing, even in an emergency department. But on one of the first days COVID–19 cases started to ramp up, she worked a 16–hour shift: her ER was short–staffed. After getting home, she showered and used the bathroom.
Quarantined hundreds of miles away from Philadelphia, I meet Andrew Guo (C ‘21) in front of Van Pelt for a tour of Penn’s campus.
As many students have returned home following Penn’s decision to move all classes online for the semester, the Penn community can feel farther away than ever. But this hasn’t stopped groups of students from coming together to advocate for their peers and community members amidst the coronavirus pandemic.
The Tiger King series is undoubtedly the universal quarantine past–time, but watching con men with five teeth attempt to murder each other can get disheartening, at least for me.
Reality in the United States today is drastically different from the blissful ignorance of a few weeks ago when COVID—19 seemed—and was—an ocean away, a danger desensitized by distance. Now trapped in quarantine, people have inevitably been turning to screens to pass the time, oscillating between news—reading, binge—watching, FaceTiming, social—media—scrolling and even Tik—Toking. Life in the real world may be on pause, but the online world seems to be operating as usual, if not hyper—actively.
As far as motivational mottos go, “We need TV now more than ever” is pretty bleak. But it’s true. We’re social distancing, we’re self–isolating, and we’re working from home. That leaves us with a lot of free time to do whatever, as casual as that sounds. Sure, you can read, or pick up a new hobby, or try to exercise, but we all know what you really want to do is watch Netflix. So, if self–improvement isn’t your thing, here are some ways you can kill time while locked inside. Just don’t watch Contagion.
Right now, many of us are championing WFH, or work from home status. Some of us now have the luxury of extra downtime, which means, now more than ever, it’s easier to crack open a book and start on that New Year’s reading resolution we have been putting off. A good book can allow us to escape and ward off the climate of anxiety we are currently facing. Movies like Contagion and World War Z are good if you like confronting doom headfirst, but nothing can transport you to another world, sans travel bans and toilet paper shortages, like the dog–eared page of a new novel.
Walking down 34th Street from Walnut to Ludlow to Market to Powelton, I was thoroughly disoriented once the “Giant Heirloom Market” sign disappeared behind me. Last semester, my friends and I decided to try Sabrina’s Café, a raved–about brunch place near Penn. As we walked, I left all navigation up to my friend, wary of my ability to direct us anywhere beyond Penn’s campus. New to Penn and new to Philadelphia, I was unaware that walking a few blocks northeast of the Quad would place us directly into Drexel territory.
Gavin O'Connor, C'86, has a thing for sports. Not only was he on Penn's football team back in his salad days, but he's since gone on to direct films like Miracle, about the US hockey team's eponymous "Miracle on Ice" in the 1980 Winter Olympics, and Warrior, in which Tom Hardy and Joel Edgerton portray brother MMA fighters. The greatest departure from O'Connor's groove may be The Accountant, in which he directs Ben Affleck playing an autistic hitman who spends his days as a CPA.
The acronym “CAFSA” didn’t mean anything one year ago. But as summer ended and students returned to Penn for the fall semester, mentions of CAFSA appeared in flashes. A poster by the elevator in Harnwell. A recommended account to follow on Instagram. It started slow, but the group’s presence was soon impossible to ignore. On October 30, students walking past Van Pelt saw a bloody sheet, the Button plastered with posters, and a mattress covered in clothes and a sign that read “IT WAS NOT CONSENSUAL.”
“Large iced coffee, no ice for Miss Jennifer,” was a phrase I’d hear almost daily when I entered Mark’s Cafe.
“A lot of people think that Native Americans are essentially extinct,” says Connor Beard (C ’21), “I’ve been really struck by the invisibility of Natives on campus.”
Essay contest winner: Love, Toolbox Child
I don’t like how time takes me farther away from you. It’s not the space, it’s the time, the number of days that pass since I’ve woken up beside you, making me feel like you’re moving farther and farther away. It's after midnight and I'm lying awake in a hotel room bed next to my sister and this is the only thing I can think. It didn’t matter when you left to go home to Chicago for the holidays and I stayed to wait for my family to pick me up. You weren’t far away when you left. You only got that way later.
I first held a hammer when I was three years old.
Claire Epstein (C’ 23) needed money.
Unsurprisingly, I am a diehard fan of outdoor concert venues. Though typically the kind of person who would rather stay inside at all costs, outdoor concerts are one of the few exceptions I make. Unfortunately, however, more and more outdoor venues keep getting shut down each year. Case in point: Even Philadelphia lost Festival Pier in Summer 2019, and no more appear to be taking its place.
Get 34th Street's newsletter, The Toast, delivered to your inbox every Friday morning.
Newsletters