In the winter of my eighth grade year, a determination to twist my hair consumed me. I inhaled all the information I could find about the history of dreadlocks. I listened to the stories of famous activists with locks. I spent hours before the mirror in deep contemplation. I meditatedRead More

As I’ve spent my time at Choate, I, like so many, have danced the silent dance of perpetuating sexual assault. I begin the dance by jamming thick, heavy earplugs into my ears. This layer of padding silences the deafening noise of sexual assault that pervade my surroundings. “I’m a feminist,”Read More

Let me be frank: I decided to take a term abroad at King’s Academy, a boarding school in Jordan, to escape Choate. After two years of the same clothes, the same classrooms, and the same routine, I desired nothing more than separation from the quirks and traditions that make ChoateRead More