i will apply to york

in another universe
we are together.
our souls are one
our hands entwined.
my tears are yours
and your blood is mine.
and the outside voices
have no consequence.

in another universe
we are apart.
our paths never crossed.
you never applied for that job
or i actually moved to new york.
we have no clue.

in this universe
our souls are one
but we are not.


They said “We gotta talk to the 30%
of Latino voters who went Red” -
As if we are all the same. As if
my grandma from Texas who has a 6th grade education is the same as the white
Cuban immigrants in Miami. As if
they are the same as the Dominicans
cooped away in their tiny New York

When I apply for jobs, or apply to colleges,
or register to vote there are two boxes:
They read:
“Are you Hispanic or Latino?”
and then:
“Please check your race.”
As if they’re not the same.

They wanted the Latino vote
but which one?
The families who were working the labores
until one of them finally graduated
high school?
The ones who are still there?
The ones whose grandparents owned
plantations in Central America but their
last name is Garcia?

They are not the same.

—  K.M.

even though I know evergreen is the best school for me, sometimes I wish I’d applied to art schools in new york. wish I’d just decided to get as far away as possible from here.

“I thought I would thrive here. I’ve got an MBA and a Masters in Engineering. I worked for a major real estate developer back in Brazil. I was in charge of land acquisitions. They would tell me: ‘Bruno, go find opportunities for us.’ I’d locate good properties and then negotiate a price. I generated a lot of revenue. I felt powerful. When I spoke to rich people and politicians, I’d feel like their equal. Not in an arrogant way. But I did not feel inferior when I spoke to them. Coming to New York has really challenged my confidence. I applied to over fifty companies when I arrived. Maybe one hundred. But nobody hired me. I have a new daughter coming in August, so now I’m trying to work as a real estate broker. But that has been very difficult too. I’ve only closed one deal so far, and I split that with another broker. Maybe it’s because my English is not perfect. Recently I offended a wealthy lady by suggesting she clean her apartment before showing it. I showed her some dust and she told me to never come back. That was really tough for me because I was really proud of my people skills. And now it seemed that even those had left me. But I think that things are finally beginning to turn around. I have two closings scheduled this month. And yesterday I spent all day with a lady from China, and she barely spoke English, but at the end of the day, she told me: ‘I trust you.’”

Professor: Why Teach For America can’t recruit in my classroom - The Washington Post

Every spring, without fail, a Teach For America recruiter approaches me and asks if they can come to my classes and recruit students for TFA, and every year, without fail, I give them the same answer. “Sorry.” Until Teach For America becomes committed to training lifetime educators and raises the length of service to five years rather than two, I will not allow TFA to recruit in my classes. The idea of sending talented students into schools in impoverished areas, and then after two years encouraging them to pursue careers in finance, law, and business in the hope that they will then advocate for educational equity really rubs me the wrong way.

It was not always thus. Ten years ago, when a Teach For America recruiter first approached me, I was enthusiastic about the idea of recruiting my most idealistic and talented students for work in poor schools. I allowed TFA representative to make presentations in my classes, filled with urban studies and African American studies majors. Several of my best students applied, all of whom wanted to become teachers, and most of whom came from the kind of high-poverty neighborhoods where TFA proposed to send its recruits. Not one of them was accepted!

Enraged, I did a little research and found that Teach For America had accepted only four of the nearly 100 Fordham students who applied. I become even angrier when I read in The New York Times that TFA had accepted 44 of 100 applicants from Yale that year. Something was really wrong if an organization which wanted to serve low-income communities rejected nearly every applicant from Fordham, students who came from those very communities, and accepted nearly half of the applicants from an Ivy League school where very few of the students, even students of color, come from working-class or poor families.
Since then, the percentage of Fordham students accepted into Teach For America has marginally increased, but the organization has done little to win my confidence that it is seriously committed to recruiting people willing to make a lifetime commitment to teaching and administering schools in high-poverty areas.

Never, in its recruiting literature, has Teach For America described teaching as the most valuable professional choice that an idealistic, socially conscious person can make. Nor do they encourage the brightest students to make teaching their permanent career; indeed, the organization goes out of its way to make joining TFA seem a like a great pathway to success in other, higher-paying professions.

Re: Taylor Swift

Dear Billboard, Never did I think I would feel the need to pose an open letter to you, a site I once deemed credible and fair.. Yet, here I am. This morning you posted a story covering “A timeline of Taylor Swift’s 10 relationships (and their songs).” Now, normally, that wouldn’t be an issue, because I would expect it from Radar Online, TMZ, or another “credible” news source (gossip rag). However, on this particular December morning, it didn’t come from one of them, it came from you. So, along with my comments, I also have a few questions. 1. When do we stop placing such sexist claims on Taylor and her music? Yes, she has dated and, in response to said relationships, has written songs about how/what she felt. The sad thing about it is, instead of praising her for her ability to convey emotion through lyric, you down play her ability and make her into a spiteful-ex/serial dater. As Taylor once mentioned in an interview, why does nobody talk about other artists in the same way? They’re writing about their love lives, same as Taylor, but you would never see a story such as, “A timeline of Ed Sheeran’s 10 relationships (and their songs)”. So, tell me, why is that? 2. Since when does working with someone constitute a relationship? I ask this because in your article, you mention Zac Efron, Lucas Till, Cory Monteith, etc.. However, Taylor never once dated any of these men. So, why include them in the “10”? To gain more views? To draw attention? To make her past dating history seem a lot worse than it actually is? What? Because I’m having a hard time understanding how three of her friends/colleagues, made it on the “list of exes”. Maybe, and this is just a thought, you don’t even know why. Maybe you didn’t even give it two thoughts before you posted it because, “it’s Taylor, she probably did date them.. Plus 10 sounds better than 5.” 3. Why are we only ever concerned with the songs she has written about exes? It’s sad to me because, unless you’re a fan of Taylor and her music, the media places you under this assumption that all of her songs are written about exes. However, there are multiple songs Swift has written that aren’t about exes at all. To name a few, “Long Live”, “The Best Day”, “Ronan”, “Innocent”, “Mean”, “Welcome to New York, "Shake It Off” (I guess this now applies to you, Billboard). So, tell me, why must we constantly publicize the songs about exes and not the songs about everyday life? However, I guess to answer that, we have to answer the first question). 4. Words.. Words.. Words.. Your article is filled with little instances in which you make snide comments or just flat out ludicrous claims. For instance, when you said, “(when does she ever do that?)” in regards to Taylor’s apologizing to Lautner in “Back to December”. What was the point of that comment? Then, multiple times in your article, you mention how someone might not have made enough of an impact to warrant a song.. However, did you stop to think that it wasn’t that they didn’t make enough of an impact, but that there was never any impact to be made? 5. Why now? You posted the story at 12:30am on 12/18/15, however, the story was actually written last December (12/30/14). So, what’s the point of reposting it a year later? As if your posting it once wasn’t unwarranted enough, you felt the need to send it out again? Although you mention in the article that all of the information is speculative and based on rumor, it still doesn’t warrant your posting it.. As a credible, respected source, I feel you should know better than to help fuel such sexist views of an artist you so widely respect. I hope, for whatever reason, your post was worth the views and the retweets, because one story lost you the respect and admiration of thousands. So, as I close this letter, I ask that you remember one thing: To you, this might not be anything more than an entertaining, attention grabbing story, but to the young woman you’re referring to, it’s much more than that.. It’s her life, her words, her heart, and you’re twisting and manipulating it to benefit yourselves. Signed, Not only a Swiftie, but a human being

“Looking Down Fifth" 

Hasselblad SWC, Ilford Delta 100

This is a counterpart I suppose, to my other shot, ”5th Avenue Wedding,“ which has since become my most hearted picture to date (thank you rebloggers!).  

As you can see, this one was shot during an overcast moment, while the other has some serious sunlight and shadow going on, as well as a few wedding guests.  Also, I shot this one further down the building, closer to 49th Street.  So they’re kind of the same, but totally different.  

Which one is "better?”  Who knows!  Let’s see how many hearts this one accrues.  

Also, I figured since this is allegedly a film photography blog, that I should at least get some film photography posted, as opposed to whatever might be happening on my bookshelves or in my bookcases, as documented by my phone’s camera.  

The Dinner (Jack Johnson)
AN: This is my first imagine/smut on here, so please be nice. Yes is this a smut and this involves sexual content so please read it if you dare. This actually took me awhile to write (just kidding like 2 days) and I hope you like it! This is a teaser to a new fanfic I am currently working on! Inbox me some feed back and as always you’re all beautiful and I love you all so much! :) <3 <3 <3


Our silverware clicked against the plates as we sat there eating dinner in silence. I sat next to Jack and across from my dad while Jack sat across from my mom. This is the first time my parents have ever met Jack. He wore black dress shoes, black dress pants, a Ralph Lauren pale blue long sleeve polo that thankfully hid his tattoos, and a black tie. “So Jack,” my dad said finally breaking the awkward silence. He wiped his mouth before speaking. “Where do you plan on going to collage?”

I looked at Jack with a worried look on my face. I remember Jack telling me that he wasn’t planning on going to collage because collage seemed ‘overrated’ to him. Hopefully he wouldn’t tell my parents that because they’d easily judge him and not approve our relationship, forbidding me to ever see him again. “I’m planning on applying to New York University. I want to study literature then graduate and become an English teacher.”

I looked at my mom and saw her smiling at me. “You’re a very bright kid Jack.” I heard my dad say.

“NYU is defiantly going to want you,” my mom added. A smile grew on my face.

“Thank you,” Jack replied.

Dinner seemed to go by really slow. Jack and I didn’t really talk much because both of my parents finally opened up to Jack. They talked about our past family trips and Jack and I sat there listening and laughing. Jack would occasionally tell them about his trips around the world.

When we were half way done with our dinner Jack did something unexpected that caught me off guard. I felt him place his cold hand on my inner right thigh, sending goosebumps all over my skin. His hand started gently going up and down my thigh causing my dress to roll up. His hand started getting closer and closer to my underwear with each stroke.

Then he took his hand and made it into a ‘number two’ sign to trace the outside of my underwear. He slowly moved his fingers up and down teasing me. Taunting me. I could feel my lace underwear getting wet. Finally Jack stopped teasing me and moved his hand to my vagina. I jumped a little receiving weird looks from my parents.

“Y/N, honey is everything okay?” My mom asked me.

“Yeah everything’s fine. Why would you think that?” My parents looked away and began telling Jack about the time I found a sea turtle at the beach when I was 7.

I tried to remove his hand from my underwear but he wouldn’t budge. I soon gave up and tried to look as normal as I possibly could. My parents asked Jack a question and he answered it like nothing was happening. I decided that it was my turn at this game. In the middle of his answer I grabbed his dick. Jack jumped in his seat then coughed. “Excuse me,” he apologized. He coughed one more time then continued to answer my parents.

When he was finished my parents started talking again and Jack turned his head to look at me. I gripped his dick harder and batted my lashes. During the next few minutes Jack would rub my drenched pussy through my underwear while I would clench and unclench his hard dick through his pants. I would look at Jack from time to time and watched as his jaw tightened. God he knew that his jaw was my weakness. When he would catch me staring at him he’d look at me and grin.

Finally I couldn’t take it anymore. I was so close to ripping his pants off and fuck him on the kitchen table when- “Has Y/N ever told you about her record collection?” My mom asked.

“No I don’t think-”

“I’ll go show him right now!” I said while standing up. Luckily my dress fell back down at it’s rightful place like nothing had ever happened. I looked at Jack as he stood up from his seat. “We’ll be right back,” I added while grabbing Jack’s hand. I lead him up the stairs then sprinted to my room when my parents couldn’t see us anymore.

Jack quietly shut my door while I forcefully locked it from behind. Jack pinned me against the wall as we started to roughly kiss each other. He ran his hands all over my body as I tried to undo his tie. I took off his tie while unbuttoning the first three buttons on his shirt before he squeezed my butt which made me automatically jump up and wrap my legs around his waist. One of his hands were on my butt while his other hand was around my waist. I pulled on his collar with one hand while the other tangled into his hair. Our kiss deepened and things got hotter.

He moved his lips to my neck making it no problem finding my sweet spot. I let out a small moan before saying something. “What the hell was that about?” I asked referring to the stunt he pulled during dinner.

“I was just playing.” He replied smirking into my neck. He carried me over to my bed and dropped me.

“Careful!” I quietly said. “They can still hear us,” I added while pointing to the ground.

“Then you have to be extra quiet.” Jack crawled on top of me then started to place sloppy kisses all over my neck.

"What do you mean by me?” I asked in a sassy tone. I felt one of Jack’s hands on my right thigh, under my dress.

"Honey,” he whispered in my ear. He started to pull on my underwear. I moaned with frustration. “You could wake up a whole city.”

I bit my lip and flipped Jack over to his back. I sat on his dick while flipping my hair to one side. I slowly unbuttoned his shirt while placing small kisses on his jawline. I started grinding on him, making his dick harder than before. Now I was in control.

When I was done unbuttoning his shirt he sat up and started forcefully unzipping the back of my dress. “Don’t ruin my dress,” I giggled softly into his neck.

When the zipper was at the bottom I removed his shirt then he removed my dress. Jack started to play around with my bra as I fumbled with his belt. When I took off his belt he unclasped my bra. I swung my head back as he cupped my breasts and kissed them. I unzipped his pants and he pinned me against my bed. He slid off his pants while he was on top of me.

Jack started to kiss every inch of my body and eventually made it down to my underwear. He slowly slid off my black lace underwear, purposely teasing me. “Jack fuck stop.” I whispered. I closed my eyes when I felt my underwear at me knees. I could feel Jack grin while watching me tremble.

God I wanted him so bad and he knew it too. My underwear made its way to the ground and I felt Jack lick my inner thighs. He left kisses on my hip bones before moving on to the next thigh. I moaned quietly. “Fuck Jack. Just fuck me already.” He sucked on the skin of my inner thighs and slowly licked his way to my pussy.

Jack finally licked my clit to wipe away the wetness I’ve made. He slowly rubbed two of his fingers up and down my pussy as he watched me melt to his touch. I grabbed his hand and started to move it faster and harder. “Jack. Jack fuck.” I said quietly. I removed my hand once I felt like he knew what pace I wanted him to go.

He surprised me by sticking a finger into my vagina. I yelped causing him to bring his face to my face. I looked him in the eye as he stuck his second finger in. I opened my mouth as he went faster and faster.

“Shhh..” Jack said quietly in my ear. He began to slow down as he made his way back to my legs. I wanted to yell at him when he pulled his fingers out of me. His tongue instantly replaced his fingers almost sending me over the edge.

“Uhh.. Fuck,” I quietly said as he flicked his tongue. He inserted his two fingers again while licking my clit. I gripped my bed sheets as his tongue and fingers moved faster and harder. His other hand made their way to one of my breasts. He cupped it and grabbed it which made me want to scream. Jack was pleasuring me so quickly that my body couldn’t catch up. My body melted under his touch and everything started to become numb.

“Jack. Jack. Harder. Faster. Faster.” I pleaded. “Jack I’m about to- Uhh oh- Don’t stop.”

Suddenly I swore the world dropped. Jack stopped pleasuring me right when I was about to reach my climax. I hated when he did that. I opened my eyes and found Jack staring into my eyes with a huge grin on his face. I was just about to punch him when I decided to push him off of me. My turn.

I crawled off my bed making sure Jack had a good quick glance of my ass. I kneeled at the edge of my bed as Jack got up and sat at the edge of my bed. I slowly removed his boxers watching as his jaw clenched. He licked his lips once I made contact with his enormous penis.

I wiped my hands on my drenched pussy first so my hands wouldn’t be dry. I wrapped my tiny hands around his huge shaft and started lightly twisting. I planted small gentle kisses on the head of his penis. His leg bounced up and down, eager to feel my lips around his throbbing penis.

I kneeled on my bed just barely inserting his dick into my vagina. I rubbed his erected penis over my clit making him groan. “Now now,” I whispered onto his lips just before licking his bottom lip.

“Y/N please,” Jack begged. “Fuck. Don’t be such a tease.”

I got off of the bed and kneeled in front of Jack again. I started to slowly move my hands up and down his penis then wrapped my lips around the top of his head. “Oh god,” he quietly whispered when I picked up the speed. I moved my mouth deeper and deeper into his dick, close to deep throating him. I felt Jack grab my hair and moved my head faster and deeper. He let go of my hair and I continued at the speed he wanted me to go at.

“Y/N. Y/N fuck. Fuck I’m going to-” I took my hands and moved them up and down his dick at the same pace I was moving my mouth, making sure that my hands gripped hard. “Oh yeah,” he moaned. He looked down at me and I looked up at him. I batted my lashed with innocence. “Fuck just like that yeah. Y/N I’m about to-” When Jack swung his head back and made his precum face I removed my hands and mouth from his erected penis. His head shot upright and looked at me with anger. “What the fuck,” I stood up as he grabbed his penis, wanting to finish what I started.

“Don’t get cum on my floor,” I said as I grabbed his hand away from his penis. I could see it throbbing which made me grin in success. His dick stood straight up making me want it in me. “Fuck Jack,” I said seductively as I ran a gentle finger up his shaft. I bit my lip, turned around, and started walking across from my bed making sure that my hips swayed.

Jack made no time to come up and pin me up against a wall. He inserted his penis in my pussy from behind, making me want to scream. “UH-” I said before he placed his large hand over my mouth.

“Shh..” He said as he thrusted harder, faster, and deeper in me. I moaned in his hand while he groaned. He spun me around so that I was facing him and he grabbed my ass. I jumped up and wrapped my legs around his waist and felt his immense penis enter back inside me. Jack’s hand covered my mouth again before I had time to scream. His other hand moved my body up and down. I threw my head back with complete overwhelming pleasure. My tits bounced up and down with each movement.

I felt Jack throw me onto my bed, getting ready for a new position. I laid flat against my back, not having time to move. Jack pounced on me, hungrily wanting to get inside me again. He inserted his dick again and went harder and faster than ever. I clenched my vagina as he hit my g spot every single thrust he made.

“Uh Jack fuck,” I said a little too loud. It was hard trying not to scream his name. Thankfully Jack covered my mouth again.

“Oh fuck Y/N. You’re so fucking tight. Uhh yeah.” Jack added with his voice getting louder each word. He bit down on his lip trying not to yell my name. When he opened his mouth I quickly covered his mouth with my hand. He shoved himself in me harder and faster. We both looked at each other while screaming in our hands.

I could tell that we were both going to reach our climax soon. Jack could tell too because now he was moving faster and faster. Harder and deeper.

A few tears escaped my eyes that were mixed with pain and pleasure. It hurt so bad but felt so good, I wish he could never stop. He gave me a feeling that not even heaven could give me. Jack went so deep and so fast that I thought it was impossible.

I screamed Jack’s name one last time in his hand before our juices combined in me. There was so much that it leaked out of me. We uncovered out mouthes and disconnected from each other. Jack fell down next to me and we breathed heavily.

After two seconds of resting Jack crawled down to where my legs were at. He licked the mess that we made from my clit and kissed my vagina one last time. Jack then climbed back to where I was at and rested on his left elbow, facing towards me. He kissed my lips transferring the cum onto my lips. I licked my lips as Jack licked his. I sighed and scooted more closer to Jack.

“I wish we could just stay here,” I quietly whispered.

“So do I,” Jack replied before kissing the top of my head. “But we have to go down before your parents suspect anything.”

“Shit, I hope we weren’t too loud.” I giggled softly making Jack chuckle. Jack climbed out of the bed letting me check out his ass as he got dressed. He pulled on his boxers again making a pout slip out of my mouth.

He looked behind him, right into my eyes. “Don’t worry babe. You’ll see it again soon.” Jack said and added a wink before sliding on his dress pants. I got out of my bed wobbling a bit. I heard Jack snicker to himself as he watched me try to walk. I stuck my tongue out at him and purposely bent down for my underwear so he would get a nice view of my butt. “Damn,” I heard him say to himself. I grinned with success and put on my underwear then my bra.

“Hey go make my bed,” I said to Jack.

“What? No!” He replied with a childish tone.

“Go make my bed! I can hardly walk because of you!”

“Okay. Okay babe,” Jack replied and kissed my cheek making my heart flutter.

I watched has he made my bed through my mirror as I fixed my makeup. I stared as his muscles, the way they would flex when he pulled on the sheets. Once I was finished with fixing my makeup I walked over to where my dress was at.

By the time I had my dress on and asked Jack to zip it up for me, he was already done fixing my bed and had his dress shirt on unbuttoned. I pulled my hair to the side and felt the zipper go up my back. I turned around and grab Jack’s tie that was in his hand as he started to button up his shirt. When his shirt looked nice and neat I swung the tie around the collar of his shirt and started to tie his tie.

When I was finished I pulled on his tie bring Jack closer to me. I pecked his lips one more time before grabbing his hand and jogging down to the dinning room. We sat back down and fortunately my parents didn’t suspect a thing. We all finished up the last of our dinner talking about music and books.

When Jack and I finished our dinner we slouched down in our chairs and played with our fingers as they intertwined with each other. My dad’s cellphone went off so he excused himself from the table to take his usual business call.

“I’ll go grab some dessert,” my mom said to Jack and I.

“Oh Mrs. Y/L/N dinner was already enough. Thank you though.”“No Jack I insist!” My mom argued back politely. I giggled and scooted closer to Jack, knowing that he wasn’t going to win this fight. Before Jack could stop her she grabbed our plates and rushed to the kitchen to receive the apple pie I helped her prepare.

“But I already had dessert,” Jack whispered in my ear.


Hasselblad SWC, Ilford Delta 400

So what do you know, I posted a picture after all.  I took this the Friday after the hurricane.  This was the last day downtown was without power.  I’ve been meaning to finish up this photo for ages and either print a hard copy or send it to my friend here.  I also took pics with the Rolleiflex, but this one came out the “best,” even if the wide angle isn’t serving the photo too well since he’s getting lost in the mix.  

I’m also not entirely happy with my post-processing.  Maybe the unsharp mask was a bit too harsh.  I feel like it’s been ages that I’ve worked a scan in photoshop, but I just had to get this damn thing done.  O has been bugging me about it for over a year, and I’ve been flaking on it for over a year.  

Yes, that’s his name, “O.”  No, he wasn’t born with that name, but that’s what he goes by now (and yes, he legally changed it to that).  But why am I telling you all this when you can go to his own tumblr.  

Brittana: All I ask

@allie-shades asked for a Brittana short fic to Adele’s “All I Ask” this is set after Diva before All or nothing. Some where in the weird season 4 time line. 

You didn’t even know you were here. You knew Brittany had spent the early evening with Sam. After Diva week, you didn’t even know why you were going to bother again. You needed to see her at least. You nervously let your hand knock on the front door to the Pierce’s house.

It wasn’t long before Brittany pulled the door opened, surprised to see Santana standing there. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

I will leave my heart at the door
I won’t say a word

You told her when you were here last you had made a mistake. You told her you still loved her. That you will always love her, but you still don’t know what to do. So you just shrug and look down at your feet.

They’ve all been said before, you know
So why don’t we just play pretend

Brittany just looks at you with her big blue eyes and smiles softly, “Come here, you.”

Like we’re not scared of what is coming next
Or scared of having nothing left

You look down when she takes your hand and laces her fingers with yours. You know she understands why you’re here. You’re still not ready to let go.

Look, don’t get me wrong
I know there is no tomorrow
All I ask

“This is just for tonight,” She says softly just before she kisses you on the lips. “You belong in New York, at least for a little while.”

If this is my last night with you
Hold me like I’m more than just a friend

“Not forever?” You challenge back as she tugs you upstairs towards her room.

Give me a memory I can use
Take me by the hand while we do what lovers do

She grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls you close to her, “You’re my forever, Santana.” She kisses you softly, leaning her forehead against yours. “Even if our forever hasn’t started yet.”

It matters how this ends
Cause what if I never love again?

She always knows the right things to say to you. Even if you didn’t know it’s what you needed to hear. You feel yourself relax when you sit down on her bed.  “When will it start?”

I don’t need your honesty
It’s already in your eyes

“I don’t know when,” She sits down in your lap, kissing you again on the cheek. “I just know that when it does, we’ll both know.”

And I’m sure my eyes, they speak for me
No one knows me like you do

You place your hand on her hips and pull her close to you, “Why can’t we just start now? If I love you and you love me.”

And since you’re the only one that matters
Tell me who do I run to?

“You belong in New York for now,” She kisses you again, more deeply this time. More like all of the times you remember. “I need to finish school. I’ll apply in New York.”

Look, don’t get me wrong
I know there is no tomorrow
All I ask is

You kiss her back with everything you have. You know she’s right. Louisville you grew up a little. Changed some even if it was just in a little way. “I’ll wait forever for you.”

Let this be our lesson in love
Let this be the way we remember us

She  pushes you down and kisses your neck softly, “All I ask is you try and live a life you can be proud of. You need to be as proud of you as I am.”

You just let out a loud sigh, “I’ll do anything you ask Brittany.” Now you know why she wanted you to go to Louisville and New York. She wanted you to be proud. Celebrate who you are. The best part of yourself. The real you. That’s all she’s ever asked.

cuarto feliz de julio

July 4, 2012: I’m on a bus in Israel on a grant to write about Israeli comedy. I look down at my dated bus ticket and realize I’m celebrating Independence Day in the Middle East and I start to almost cry because of knowingly heavy handed metaphors about my own independence. I had never left the country, I had never before had the balls to listen to a professor compliment my work and push me to apply for something, I barely fucking functioned 6 months prior.

July 4, 2013: I’m on Coney Island, watching the fireworks. I start to almost cry because of some heavy handed metaphor over my own independence and luck and path. I had no idea what I was going to do with my English degree with a concentration in Creative Non-Fiction. In late March I had started working for my favorite website in the whole entire world – a website that had previously let me garner enough visibility that I was getting paid a teeny bit to write silly articles all around the internet. I could have never dreamed that a position would open up that was suitable for me to apply for. I moved to New York knowing no one, I was making friends. I wasn’t failing.

July 4, 2014: I’m in Mexico. I’m in fucking Cancun. I would’ve written about it earlier, but the the decision to go happened 9 hours before our 9 AM flight. I’m lying in bed next to my boyfriend, our very good friend is on the couch. Both of these full grown men fell asleep when I played My Heart Will Go On on my phone. I teared up writing this because of some heavy handed metaphorical bullshit about my independence and growth and how I’ve spent the last 3 Fourth of Julys in places that were brand new to me just days, weeks or months prior to the holiday.

Preeti Chhibber: How I Got into Publishing

Senior Editorial Manager for the Teens & BookBeat Scholastic Reading Clubs

I didn’t realize publishing was an actual career until I was a few years into college. Growing up, my mom had been clear that I was the one who would be a doctor (with my brother the lawyer and my sister the accountant*). It should be noted that I’m not good at math or science.

Unfortunately for my mother, when I was fourteen, she gave me a copy of The Agony and the Ecstasy by Irving Stone. It’s a heavily romanticized version of Michelangelo’s life. Beyond that, it’s about loving your work, and being passionate about what you do. He sacrificed everything to able to create and carve. Agony became a book that I read once a year. (I think we can agree that what comes next is pretty much my mom’s fault.)

Two things happened after my freshman year of college. I’d floundered through one year of pre-med and hadn’t done well (remember? Not good at math or science). Not long after grades were released, I had a conversation with my older brother. He had just met someone who worked at Tor and immediately thought of his nerdy sister who read all the time. He suggested I talk with her. I thought of Agony. I thought about books. I knew that in my life, reading was the thing that excited me most. This was the lead-in to the Big Change: I became an English major.

It’s not carving marble, but telling your Indian parents that you’re not going to be the doctor they spent 19 years expecting to have? Terrifying.

They took solace in the fact that maybe I could still be a lawyer. Ha! It’s a difficult thing, breaking up with your parent’s idea of the future for something new and different.

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bisexualtimothydrake  asked:

hi! i have a question: do you have any advice on writing essays for colleges? like when they say "why us?"

yes!!!!!! i do!!!!!!!!!! this is knowledge that I had to gain and use quickly and in a very short span of time

  • start by make a list of every school you’re applying to and list WHY you want to go to each of them. spend some really thinking about different reasons you want to go to each school, the reasons will be different.
  •  I’ve also read that it’s important to mention the the city/town you would be studying in, or something specific about the campus. One professor told me he doesn’t vote to admit people who don’t even mention NYC in their statement of purpose. which might be ridiculous but there you have it. When I applied to NYU I made sure to list the reasons why New York specifically. Also, if you’re looking at urban campuses (which I think you are) talk about that! You want to show them that you know what you’re getting into. 
  • get to know the department!!!!! honestly, in my experience this is the most important. Look on their website and read faculty bios. find a few faculty members who write things you care about (for example, I go straight for the medievalists), if you have access to the things they’ve written try to skim through them but honestly I just kinda name dropped and said I was a fan of their work, even if I had never read it. But you gotta be confident in your ability to bullshit (I am very confident)
  • caveat to this: do not list just one or two. You can favor one over the others, but if you’re gonna name more than one faculty member you’d like to work with make sure you list several. the reason why is that you really never know when a faculty member is going to be gone or leaving or going on sabbatical or whatever, so if you make it sound like “the only reason I wanna attend X school is because I love [professor]” they’re gonna be like welp, [professor] is retiring next semester so, you probably don’t wanna go here anymore huh?
  • As for the rest, think of it like a CV. 
  • List any conferences you’ve attended, significant experiences you’ve had at your current school and how those experiences changed you or challenged you. (example: I listed my independent study course I took as an undergrad when I took a graduate level course and it really solidified how much I wanted to become a medievalist)
  • Your goals - what do you want to do with your degree? How far within academia are you planning to go?
  • Now, take the answers to the previous 2 bullet points and explain HOW this particular school/program/department can continue to challenge you and help you to achieve future goals. 
  • and don’t use a sob story unless you have a really good one!!
  • Remember that I’m coming off graduate applications, so that’s what most of this experience comes from. But honestly most of these apply to every level.