Representation in the Not So Modern Age
“Dearest Gentle Reader, this is the story of Queen Charlotte from Bridgerton. It is not a history lesson. It is fiction inspired by fact. All liberties taken by the author are quite intentional. Enjoy.”
Below are your search results. You can also try a Basic Search.
“Dearest Gentle Reader, this is the story of Queen Charlotte from Bridgerton. It is not a history lesson. It is fiction inspired by fact. All liberties taken by the author are quite intentional. Enjoy.”
Fifty years ago, people had to remember the different local seven–digit phone numbers to reach their police, fire, or medical services. Accidental (and preventable) deaths and injuries had become an epidemic. Enter 911, the standardized national number for emergency services. Fast forward fifty years, and 988 hopes to be the 911 of mental health emergencies: the number to call for the suicide hotline as well as during behavioral crises which don’t require police intervention.
Every morning, pretty much as soon as I wake up, I want to see what’s happened in the world during the (ideally eight, but likely closer to five) hours since I was last awake. Like so many other members of the screen–addicted Gen Z, I turn to my cell phone. But instead of tapping on the blue bird of Twitter, or the rainbow newsstand of an aggregator like Google News, I’ve found myself turning to the orange and white alien icon of Reddit.
In another universe, Emily White (C ‘23) and I are mortal enemies. Once upon a time, we ran against each other to be editor–in–chief of the magazine you’re reading right now. Back then, they were put off by my skinny white twink demeanor, and I almost threw away any remaining good will over a petty grudge (I lost that first election, if you couldn’t tell). But we’ve both had our time at the helm of Street now, and somewhere along the way they became one of my best friends.
Surprise! It’s you. Yes, you. Congratulations on making it; we know these past four years haven’t been easy, but now here you are, having achieved so much along the way.
Rebecca Hennessy (C ‘23) begins every day the same way: with tea. Her mother was a religious tea drinker, and ever since middle school she’s made it a habit to start her mornings the same way. Breakfast is crucial too, a rarity among college students. “I like to pick up every morning with breakfast. I can't really get through a day without it,” she says.
What matters most to Elena Miller (C ‘23), in no particular order, are friends, family, and music.
Jane Lozada Foster doesn’t want to burn any bridges. She emphasizes this as we finish our conversation, which is chock full of the kindest and most generous evaluations of the times that Penn failed her or that she failed at Penn. When Jane’s roommates found out that Street wanted to profile stories of failure and successes this year, they both told her she was the ideal candidate. Most Penn students would be horrified to hear that their social circle sees failure as characteristic to them, but Jane just laughs when she tells this story. “I have failed a lot,” she says. “It doesn’t impact how I see myself.”
To Winston Peloso (C ’23), the world can be broken down to a mathematical equation. Sitting outside Houston Hall in the late afternoon, he easily switches between scientific jargon and the casual lingo of students as he talks about his time at Penn; emotions about senior year are carefully parsed, meanwhile the scientific process of creating purified crystal can be explained away as “super fucking specific.”
Benson Gao (C’ 22) has gained a new perspective on education over the last five years—literally. After switching his major in the middle of his junior year and graduating from Penn in the fall, he is now a teacher.
“I always joke with my friends that I’m obsessed with New Jersey,” giggles Ashna Yakoob (C’ 23) , seated at a metal table outside Saxbys. “I think it’s the crown jewel of the United States.” She does not appear to be joking. Her hands move expressively—they will continue to do so throughout the conversation.
Ben Moss-Horwitz (C’ 23) has been trying to escape his fate for the past four years—but to no avail.
One quick glance at her Twitter, and Niva Baniya’s love for Harry Styles is apparent. Her pinned tweet is developed film photos she took at his latest tour. After we’ve finished with the formalities of the interview, it’s the first thing I want to ask about.
By the time she became a senior, Lee Schwartz (C ‘23) had never spent a full school year on Penn’s campus.
On visits to the Barnes Foundation, I usually have the same expectations in mind. I’ll see Renoir’s pale naked ladies, Degas’s French dancers, and piece after piece by other white Impressionists. I’ll take in every hazy, pastel–colored world, locked in gold frames, chosen by Dr. Barnes himself.
Philadelphia’s housing market today is completely different from what it used to be decades ago. Today, neighborhoods that were considered undesirable 50 years ago by real estate investors see increased market values. Accordingly, developers try to take advantage of these rising prices and acquire property to build market rate housing complexes at a handsome profit. These developments normally do not keep with the architecture of the existing buildings and are above the average price of housing in the community: Think the boxy, colorful paneled row homes that are popping up all over Philadelphia. Often, new developments are inaccessible to low–and middle–income buyers and eventually result in raised property taxes that price out current residents. The potential housing development at 4601 Market Street is currently grappling with this narrative, with developers attempting to build market rate housing units. However, community members are fighting back, urging the developers to include affordable housing in the housing complex.
On a cloudy Thursday night in late March, the cozy, domestic interior of the Penn Women’s Center has been transformed into a hub of action. Harley Haas (C '24), the chair of Abuse and Sexual Assault Prevention, balances her laptop on her knees as she simultaneously sends out emails and welcomes in another volunteer. Leslie Lytle (E ‘23) yells over the organized chaos, “Has anyone heard from Liz Magill?” Two volunteers sit on the couch sorting through bags of chalk while sharing the run–down of their day. In just one week, these months of planning by the campus–wide organization, ASAP, will leave the living room of Women's Center and culminate as the campus’ largest anti–violence rally—Take Back the Night.
In late February of this year, Congress passed a bill that would block a bill proposed by Biden that allowed retirement funds to consider environmental, social and governance (ESG) investing. This would have allowed pension fund managers to take into account the effects of climate change when determining where to invest.
Around noon on a quiet, overcast Saturday, people started arriving at high rise field with folded blankets and suitcases in tow, just waiting to be unzipped. The unpacking process revealed piles upon piles of people’s clothing from moving carts, backpacks, and even trash bags. In just minutes, the quiet lawn had transformed into a bustling crowd of students. Music to the likes of Wallows, The 1975, and Vampire Weekend was blasting from a hefty Bluetooth speaker. Early April marked the return of a highly anticipated event for a small niche of Penn students: Tina Zhang's (C ‘25) and Jill Li’s (C ‘24) spring closet sale.
An A24 film is defined by two unmatched qualities: surrealist art and realist relationships. Grounded in these A24 principles, Beef reveals the underbelly of humanity, ascribing a certain proposition to the audience: “anger is just a transitory state of consciousness.” And moreover: it’s okay to be angry.
Get 34th Street's newsletter, The Toast, delivered to your inbox every Sunday morning.
Newsletters