Spring 2023 | Flat Hat Magazine

FLAT HAT MAGAZINE

Photos by Zachary Lutzky ‘24

“Reflection” came to me in a dream. I was brainstorming theme ideas, but they were all really, really, really bad, so bad that I honestly reconsidered my decision to run for Editor-in-Chief. I must have dozed off because at some point I woke up, the word “Reflection” running through my head.

Seven months later, I am ecstatic to present Flat Hat Magazine’s “Reflection” Issue.

Reflection is an essential part of the human experience, a tool for personal growth, learning, and creativity that allows us to gain deeper insights into ourselves, our relationships, and the world around us. Reflecting helps us identify our strengths and weaknesses; learn from our mistakes; unlock our full potential; and gain a deeper understanding of others’ perspectives, experiences, and emotions.

I’ll start with a personal reflection: I never thought I’d end up as Editor-in-Chief of a college magazine. I did journalism in high school, then joined The Flat Hat, if anything, out of habit. I applied to intern for Variety and Opinions but got placed in the magazine instead. I didn’t even know Flat Hat Magazine existed.

Now, I look back and can’t even imagine what my college experience would have looked like without Flat Hat Magazine. “Spiralling,” “Big Scoop,” “Technicolour,” “Baroque,” “Movement,” and now, “Reflection” are more than just magazines for me — they were experiences where I made not only magazines but also life-long friends and memories.

A big thank you to our amazing Flat Hat Magazine staff — our biggest yet — who made this issue possible. Making a magazine isn’t easy. Imagine a four-month-long group project with seventy people, but it’s all for “fun,” on top of insane class schedules, jobs, clubs, and other commitments. From intern, to Managing Editor, to Chief-of-Staff, to now Editor-in-Chief, I’ve helped out in nearly every section — page design, social media, editing, style, photography, graphics, website, business, you name it — and so I know first-hand how much work goes into every single section. Thank you to our creative, copy, social media, business, digital, photography, style, and beauty teams; to our editors, artists, and writers; and above all, to Rebecca Altman and Vivian Hoang, our dedicated Chiefs-of-Staff who help keep the ship running and are always willing to transform into Flat Hat Magazine jacks-of-all-trades when the need arises. A big thank you as well to Gavin Aquin Hernández, Flat Hat Magazine co-founder and former Editor-in-Chief, for brainwashing me with Flat Hat Mag propaganda when I was a freshman, for being one of my closest friends, and for always responding in 2.5 seconds to dumb questions like “What font is our logo in?” and “How do I log into the merch website?” Also, shoutout to all my (non-magazine) friends, who, despite not seeing me much this semester “because of Mag” are still the very best a girl could ask for.

From antiquity to Y2K, from fairy tales to AI, from magic to our own minds, reflect with us on the past, present, and future — and our place in it.

Judith-Renée Herman, Editor-in-Chief

editor@flathatmagazine.com

AI & Academia: ChatGPT at the College

Artificial intelligence is transforming countless industries across the globe — higher education is no exception. Continue reading to explore how professors at the College of William & Mary are adapting to a world with ChatGPT.

Story by Will Kobos ‘24

Graphic by Monica Bagnoli ‘25

Before we begin, let me make one thing clear: I am not an AI language model. I am a human writer, and I’m here to explore the complex issues surrounding the use of those models in higher education. From academic dishonesty to privacy concerns, the implications of AI in education are far-reaching and require careful consideration.

In case you haven’t guessed, I did not write that paragraph. It was my seventh attempt at getting ChatGPT to write an introduction for an article about AI in higher education. I had to do a fair bit of hand-holding along the way — the chatbot’s first response felt more like something from the mind of a middle schooler, dutifully assembling the blandest, most formulaic topic sentence possible for their assigned essay about a generic dystopian novel.

Round two went a little better. “Try again,” I instructed in the input box. I tapped enter, and the AI, whose dark-mode UI has become ubiquitous in the screenshots shared since its public debut on Nov. 30, 2022, seemed to pause and think for a moment before making its new attempt. The cursor didn’t move as fast this time — it paused for a second every few words as if it was furrowing its brow in digital concentration (humans, by the way, are very bad about anthropomorphizing

technology — more on that later). About 15 seconds later, it produced an introduction that I thought graduated from “middle school essay” to “junior year high school English paper, but it’s due in an hour and you have to crank something out in the library.” It still felt generic and a bit mechanical, so I kept tweaking the instructions in pursuit of something that could be considered original.

Writerly difficulties aside, it’s immediately obvious to a first-time user of ChatGPT — a public-facing interface for GPT-3.5, the newest publicly available model from a class of generative AIs called Large Language Models (LLMs) — that this technology holds enormous disruptive potential. The chatbot generates large volumes of mostly coherent language in an instant. The task of collecting information and synthesizing something from it, a central part of the life of a college student, is now something that a computer can do in a fraction of the time. In the short term, educators are forced to account for the presence of technology when issuing assignments. In the long term, the future of education, creativity, and human expression is thrown into question.

The College of William and Mary’s Studio for Teaching and Learning Innovation provides pedagogical advice for professors, especially where technology is concerned. Adam Barger, STLI’s Interim Director, said that their office became aware of ChatGPT and its probable implications in December, shortly after it went public.

“The President and the Dean of Arts and Sciences asked us to do a couple of things at the start of spring semester,” Barger said. “The first was to develop some quick guidelines to send out as the semester started. And we did that in conjunction with a working group that the Dean established called the ‘AI Writing Tools Working Group.’ The heart of the recommendation at this point is just for the faculty members to be very clear in their syllabus and in their teaching as to what role generative AI should or could have in the class. So, for example, it might be completely accepted as a way to learn new things, to see drafts from AI, to explore its accuracy, and use as a writing tool, or it might be completely forbidden and it would be an honor code violation if it were used on an assignment. And then anything in between. That kind of spectrum of potential use needs to be in the syllabus and very clear so students understand the reason for it.”

While Barger emphasized that ChatGPT and its successor technologies will have a place in higher education, he conceded that they’re more of a threat to educational environments than an asset right now.

“I would say I’m probably more on the side of ‘This could really cause some problems.’ And it’s, at the very least, a technological disruption that changes the status quo and presents opportunity for both good and bad.”

I also spoke with Philosophy professor Matt Haug, who specializes in the philosophy of the mind, which encompasses the nature of human and artificial intelligence.

“I am going to require students now to tell me how they’re using ChatGPT if they did use it,” Haug said.

In many cases, Barger said he expects professors to respond to the proliferation of AIs by leaning back into low-tech, “AI-proof” assignments, in contrast to the existing post-COVID trend towards remote assessments and asynchronous environments.

“I think there’ll be some kind of bounce back, some pressure back towards in-class assessments and maybe even more traditional blue book written essays and things,” he said. “I don’t know if that’s the best path. I think that could be one of several ways, because there are, of course, legitimate reasons to have essay writing skills, depending on your major and the class. It can be a great way to accomplish your learning goals by having an in-class writing assessment. But I think the large majority of classes could really get more creative with their assessment techniques.”

The best way learning can respond to the

disruption of ChatGPT, Barger says, is to place more emphasis on the incremental thought process that goes into formulating and expressing an idea rather than the outcome itself.

“The term we use for that is scaffolding. And it’s the idea that you break these big assignments into smaller assignments that helps students see the value in each step of the writing process. So, for example, instead of just saying, ‘Hey, get me a five-page paper by the end of the month,’ maybe we’ll start with a discussion about your interests, and then maybe there’s an elevator pitch that you make to define a topic. Then maybe there’s an outline, and then there’s some research, and there’s a draft. And so by doing these pieces along the way, pieces that are a bit harder to use generative AI for, [it] allows the student to really focus on the learning process as opposed to just a product. The product is important, but so is the process. And so I believe by focusing on process, we can navigate this world much more effectively.”

Haug echoed that the proliferation of AI tools, whether they’re used or not, reinforces the importance of process, as opposed to outcome, in an educational environment.

“I think one of the reasons why, pedagogically, we don’t want students to ask ChatGPT to write their papers is that then, they’re not thinking. In Philosophy, most paper topics that you’re writing about have been written about by thousands of other people; it’s not like you’re writing on some new topic or creating something new. You’re not creating novel ideas, right? But you’re thinking really hard about an argument and how to phrase it clearly and in a way that’s understandable and logically valid, and that helps you create new work down the line.”

“I think it’s very tempting to think about ChatGPT as this kind of purely instrumental output like the end product is the sole goal of an assignment,” Haug added. “Especially in the school context, but even when you go out to the job market, that all that matters is that it produces this article or this short story. And I think there are lots of reasons why humans write and engage in the writing process that are more process-driven. And

there are ways that you can use ChatGPT and still have a lot of hard, critical thinking and struggle with the ideas, and I think those kinds of uses are the most exciting and potentially helpful.”

Haug explained that the disruption of generative AI and the scrutiny it brings could actually improve the engagement that professors have with their students.

“I think [AI] raises interesting questions in the classroom, like, ‘Why are you assigning this particular paper?’ You know, if this assignment is one that’s easily reproducible by ChatGPT, I don’t think that necessarily makes it a bad assignment,” Haug said. “But I think it forces professors to convey the reasons why you’re doing a particular assignment to their students, like much more clearly than we have in the past. I think that’s helpful and interesting.”

It’s important to note that ChatGPT does have obvious limitations, some of which are innate to all similarly designed LLMs. It doesn’t take much work to expose its habit of “hallucinating,” making unfounded and false assertions in an attempt to give an answer. Like humans, AIs tend to dislike admitting when they don’t know something.

Additionally, while it can offer superficial imitations of a huge variety of writing styles, ChatGPT’s own writing leaves a lot to be desired. Despite my persistent re-prompting and the fact that the response improved considerably from the original output, I still have a whole host of issues with the opening paragraph that ChatGPT gave me. As a proofreader, seeing an introduction that contains tedious phrases like “complex issues” when the whole rich palette of the English language is right there, waiting to be used, makes me want to scream and throw my laptop out the window. I have a similarly visceral, negative reaction to the wanton use of words like “explore” and “implications.”

My issues with its efforts to write my lead-in point to a broader problem I’ve noticed with the responses that ChatGPT generates: every expression that it cranks out tends to have a depressingly banal quality. This isn’t surprising given the AI’s vast training datasets — one can easily imagine somebody throwing the collective textual emissions of all of humanity into a blender in some ultra-high-rent office space in San Francisco, then pouring out the resulting neutral beige goop into the verbal soft-serve machine that is the ChatGPT interface we all know and love.

That’s ultimately some comfort for those who think the written word still holds potential as a medium for individual expression. Given the technology’s reliance on hoovering up all the writing they can possibly find, it seems like an inherent property of these models that they will always reflect the most vague and overused parts of the contemporary English lexicon.

Haug said the stylistic shortcomings of ChatGPT come partially from the fact that it reduces human expression to its least common denominator, and the average piece of writing on the internet is not particularly original or interesting.

“I mean, think of all the clichéd writing that just your average reporter produces,” he said.

Language AIs are bound to improve dramatically on what ChatGPT currently offers. GPT-4, which recently launched in a limited-access beta test version, is the successor to ChatGPT’s model and features a larger neural network with a much better and more truthful writer than ChatGPT. In testing, GPT-4 was able to pass a bar exam in the top 10% of scorers, whereas GPT-3.5 flunked it. Google also recently started public testing of Bard, a comparable AI tool that it hopes will act as something between a chatbot and a search engine, like a kind of internet librarian. Notably, Google has said it plans to integrate Bard with a secondary logic model that should enable it to

undertake computational tasks more effectively than an exclusively language-oriented model like GPT. The pace of advancement in the field is dizzying; even as they lay off tens of thousands of workers in other sectors, large tech companies are still enthusiastically shoveling money into deep learning R&D work.

That said, there’s still a lot of ground to cover before we have a fully capable artificial general intelligence, and it’s not a given that the current exponential pace of development will continue forever. Jie Ren, a Computer Science professor who conducts research relating to deep learning models, said she isn’t concerned about the effects of AI tools on Computer Science instruction yet. Although generating simple Python scripts is billed as one of GPT’s strong suits, it still tends to make mistakes when it comes to the logical reasoning necessary to build a functioning computer program.

“I actually tried to feed my assignments and homework to GPT-4 to see if it can get the answer correctly or not,” Ren said. “And I think it still cannot answer all the questions we are trying to design for the students. This is basically because this GPT model itself is trying to predict what the next word will be. It lacks a lot of inner communication. So basically, this model cannot solve the problem with logical steps efficiently.”

She pointed to an example cited in OpenAI’s research publication for GPT-4 — “Just to a simple question, like how many prime numbers there are between 100 and 250, they cannot give you the correct answer. This is because they cannot think as people do, finding the least of the prime numbers and then counting them and giving back the answer. They are just trying to solve it in this one-step way.”

Still, she said the current rate of improvement makes predicting the long-term effects of AIs difficult.

“I’m not too worried about students using GPT-4 for their homework right now, but who knows what will happen five months later? Maybe the GPT model is getting smarter, … but I think at that time we’ll change how our assignments and exams look.”

There are still unanswered questions about the place of human labor in the age of AI, and they may persist as open questions for the foreseeable future. As language models become ever more sophisticated, if you’re the editor of a literary magazine and you’re handed a stack of 100 short stories and 99 of them were written by AI, how confident can you be that the one written by a human will stand out? Up to this point in history, any piece of writing could be counted upon to have a human at the other end who sat down with the express purpose of communicating something to you, the reader. There was an intention behind it. The author could have died a century or even a millennium ago, but a reader still has a kind of intellectual telepathy with them through the ideas they expressed. Now, as AIs take on the roles of creative assistants and ghostwriters, that certainty is no longer there.

When I asked Dr. Haug about the topic, he said evaluating the precise degree of “intention” behind an AI-generated work is tricky because of the way humans are involved in the training process.

“There is no intention in the sense in which humans have intention,” he said. “Well, there’s a goal that it has, which is to predict the next word. And it uses a very, very huge data set and a complicated algorithm to do that. And then what’s really interesting is that it doesn’t have any intentions — it didn’t want to produce a good response in a sense. But it’s also been trained by reinforcement learning with humans saying ‘Is this a good response or not?’”

When you get a response from an AI, you still engage with other humans in some way. For the general question of whether an AI’s response should be seen as belonging to the human authors of its training data for the purposes of copyright or academic plagiarism, the jury is still out.

“There’s the kind of claim that even if their work was just this one little minuscule part of this huge collection that was used to produce this novel creative thing, you should get some credit for that as well,” Haug said. “And I’m sympathetic to those kinds of arguments.”

Ultimately, Haug says, both in the classroom and the wider world, the questions posed by the new generation of AIs defy easy, unequivocal answers, and we will likely have to wrestle with them over the coming years and decades.

“I think the messy middle is where we probably want to be,” Haug says. “Trying to figure out on any particular question what the actual nuanced position is is a hard thing.”

Meanwhile, Barger added that the conversation about AI within the College has only just started.

“We’re trying to see you all as pedagogical partners so that we can get your side of the story as well,” he said. “That’s the real goal.”

Fighting for A Conversation with Cameron Lynch Disability Rights

For the past three years, Cameron Lynch ’23 has been advocating for the needs of the immunocompromised. Currently working as an intern for Save the Children, serving on the Board of Directors for the Disability Law Center of Virginia, and acting as the undersecretary for Disability Affairs on campus, Lynch’s life centers around disability advocacy.

Story by Phebe Fahmy ‘26

Design by JR Herman ‘24

ameron Lynch’s story as a disability advocate began amid the COVID-19 pandemic in May 2020 when she voiced her experiences and frustrations as an immunocompromised individual on social media.

“I ended up posting on my Instagram page a letter that I wrote to my able-bodied friends about COVID and what it felt like to be immunocompromised during COVID,” Lynch said.

Diagnosed with Type I diabetes, muscular dystrophy, and Celiac disease, Lynch wrote about the often overlooked privilege of a healthy immune system. While for young, able-bodied people, viruses, the flu, and COVID-19 typically result in minimal damage, for those with auto-immune diseases, the consequences can be serious, forcing them to take extra precautions. Quarantine was a reality for Lynch even before COVID, and the pandemic only worsened this fact of life. Lynch expressed the anger — and loneliness — she felt during the pandemic as she watched others disregard essential safety measures, posting group hangouts on Instagram.

“I think that a lot of times able-bodied people don’t understand the privilege that they have,” Lynch said. “People have had to be cognizant of their health for way longer than before COVID… I have always had to beg my friends to get the flu shot because if I get the flu, it’s much more dangerous for me than other people. That was always a conversation I had to have before COVID.”

Lynch’s letter was an expression of overwhelming emotion over her isolation but ended up developing into something entirely unexpected: a support group for immunocompromised college students nationwide, first set in motion by the responses she received from her letter.

“I had maybe fifty people DM me reacting to the letter,” Lynch said. “People I had never met — someone who had seen it from their friend who posted it from a friend. It got pretty widespread.”

These responses inspired Lynch to partner with a friend to create Chronic and Iconic, an immunocompromised support group that connected through weekly Zoom meetings and a group chat.

“It started off with me just DMing all of the people I heard from,’” Lynch said. “I think 20 people came to the first meeting. After that, it became a weekly thing. At 7 p.m. on Sundays, we would have a

Zoom call. We had a GroupMe, and people just kept getting added.”

Chronic and Iconic provides encouragement and assistance for those who are disabled. Although Chronic and Iconic is less active now than in 2020, it still serves as an online platform for students to ask questions about COVID-19 university policies, medications, accommodations, and more broadly, the struggles of being a young, immunocompromised student.

“Having someone who understands the life that you live is really important,” Lynch said. “If you have questions about your life, it’s hard to find a doctor who’s going to talk about how to drink safely on this medicine, or like, ‘Hey, can I still go to a party if I’m on immunosuppressants?’”

A central struggle of being disabled involves having additional daily considerations that aren’t always acknowledged or addressed by nondisabled individuals, so Chronic and Iconic gives disabled individuals the space to discuss the nuances of their lifestyles.

“I think it’s hard being a disabled young person,” Lynch said. “It’s very isolating… and so I wanted to make others feel like they had someone to talk to or had a community behind them.”

Lynch’s disability activism also focuses on the lives of students at The College of William and Mary. Lynch envisions a future peer advisory program for those who have disabilities or are seeking accommodations. Through this program, students at the College familiar with the accommodations process would help coach others on Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) rules and forms as well as educate those who may act insensitively toward those with disabilities. Lynch said that she personally experienced issues with professors asking her to provide reasons for accommodations.

“Professors aren’t legally allowed to ask you what accommodations are for — they just have to accept them,” Lynch said. “But I’ve had a lot of professors ask me what they’re for. I know that’s a common thread, but you don’t have to explain yourself to professors. So teaching students the right ways to go about everything would be beneficial.”

Not only does Lynch desire a peer advisory program, but she also has been helping establish a new student organization on campus for disabled individuals.

“I’m starting a student organization called Student Accessibility and Disability Alliance with two other students that’s more of a social club for disabled students,” Lynch said. “I’m working with another member of [Student Assembly]… [and] also other disabled students from around the school to try and make… a community because it’s hard to find other disabled students at the school.”

Lynch’s peer advisory vision and communitybuilding efforts were inspired by her negative experiences with obtaining accommodations during the COVID-19 pandemic. Despite the administration approaching the issue with sensitivity, no tangible action was taken.

“There was a statement on the website… about how if you couldn’t go back to in-person learning, you should take a gap semester,” Lynch said. “And I think that really hit me pretty hard because it felt like there were no accommodations willing to be made. I did a lot of research, and I pulled out ADA clauses that were in violation and I sent them, and I met with administrators, and they were very understanding of the situation that I was in. But I don’t think a lot of action was taken to remedy it.”

The lack of administrative response ultimately resulted in Lynch taking part in the Washington Center’s D.C. Semester program, which allowed her to take classes online but unfortunately led her to fall behind in her progress toward her Sociology major.

For Lynch and the immunocompromised, COVID-19 proved to be both a blessing and a curse: harmful for their immunity, yet progressive for society’s view on health safety.

“I think it’s nice in a way that COVID kind of accelerated people’s awareness of health and mortality in a sense, but some people have had to think about that for way longer or grow up not being able to go to school because of a disability,” Lynch said.

After Lynch advocated for greater accessibility access at the College, she pursued this same goal across Virginia, emailing and reaching out to disabled students at other schools to create a widespread platform for the cause. After submitting letters to Virginia schools with no response, Lynch reached out to news sources with the unlikely goal of appearing on national news. Here Lynch finally found success, making headlines in The New York Times, The Washington Post, USA Today, CNN, and BBC.

“I wrote to every other school in Virginia trying to get them to add online classes and found a disabled student at each of the colleges to sign their name off on the letter,” Lynch said. “And then after that, and not hearing back from a lot of schools, we reached out to news sources on Twitter and Instagram. And then after having stories written about that… I heard back.”

While valuable, the media coverage had its downsides. Online haters pushed back on Lynch’s platform by minimizing Lynch’s disabilities and experiences.

“I knew that media coverage would help us accomplish everything, but it’s kind of hard when your personal life is put on blast like that,” Lynch said. “I gave a lot of personal information, and honestly, I got pushback on social media… A couple people told me I wasn’t disabled ‘enough’ to be talking about this issue. I had some people talking about how I was lying [about my experiences].”

Despite the online animosity, Lynch hopes to continue aiding the disabled community. In the future, Lynch, a Government and Sociology double major on the pre-law track, hopes to work on legislation and ADA compliance. Recently, Lynch worked alongside disability lawyers in the Department of Justice to gain experience creating change through policy-based law.

“I worked for the first time with disability lawyers, and I thought that that was a really cool profession,” Lynch said. “They were really amazing people who wanted not just to stick to the status quo, but wanted to really impact the ways that disabled Americans live their lives. So that’s the goal.”

Lynch’s goal has remained the same throughout these past three years: to provide equity for disabled individuals. Lynch’s previous work on Chronic and Iconic, her current advocacy with the Student Accessibility and Disability Alliance, and her future goals of working on ADA legislation all revolve around creating an inclusive community for disabled individuals, all while teaching them what true inclusion looks like.

“I love my friends here, I love the school, and I just really wanted to make sure that this community felt as inclusive as possible,” Lynch said. “So what I stand for is equity. I really want to make sure that students feel that they are taken care of.”

Photos Courtesy of Cameron Lynch

HERE TO

STAY?

Story by Peerawut Ruangsawasdi ’26

The Richard Bland College of William and Mary is governed by the College’s Board of Visitors. Richard Bland’s alumni and administrators say it’s time for the school to chart its own destiny.

When the Virginia General Assembly created “the Colleges of William and Mary” system in 1960, Luther J. Carter of The VirginianPilot said, “All this apparently is to be accomplished smoothly and painlessly, with no hit dogs, gored oxen, or other casualties.”

But all did not go as smoothly as planned. That system — under the leadership of its sole chancellor, Alvin Duke Chandler — lasted two years.

Chandler left his role as the College’s 21st president after the Board of Visitors selected him to serve an honorary and ceremonial role as the chancellor, the chief executive of the Colleges. He once described the system as his “empire.”

Although its dissolution took place over 61 years ago, the remnants of that bygone organization still remain today. During its two-year period, the Colleges consisted of the College of William and Mary, its Richmond Professional Institute, its Norfolk division, and its two junior colleges — Christopher Newport College and Richard Bland College.

Most of these subsidiaries broke off from the College and achieved total independence: RPI merged with the Medical College of Virginia to form Virginia Commonwealth University, the College’s Norfolk division became Old Dominion University, and Christopher Newport College became a university in 1992. But what of RBC?

In an interview with Inside Higher Ed in February 2023, RBC president Debbie Sydow said the public junior college has evolved to the point that it needs its own dedicated governing board, not a fraction of one.

“So this is the thing I want to be sure you understand,” Sydow told The Flat Hat after a BOV meeting session for the RBC committee. “We are already two separate institutions. We have zero connection to William and Mary as an institution. [Yet] we are governed by the same board.”

In a video released by RBC seven months ago, however, Sydow emphasized the benefits of the institution’s connections to the College.

“Richard Bland’s academically rigorous programs are grounded in the liberal arts tradition of one of America’s oldest and most prestigious public universities, the College of William and Mary,” Sydow said.

For Nina Raneses ’22, an alumna of Richard Bland College, those types of connections with the College were the main reason she chose RBC to start her college career.

“Going to Richard Bland was a very unexpected but a very necessary part of my college experience,” Raneses said. She enrolled in RBC after taking a gap year in Alexandria, Virginia, following her high school graduation. “I loved everything about William and Mary as soon as I’d learned about the College.”

After learning about the College’s history, Raneses knew it was her dream school.

“I love history, especially British history, and so going to a school named after British monarchs that had a cypher with a crown was good enough for me,” she said. “I knew the student body was passionate, and the small size meant I could count on my professors to be mentors, I could meet all kinds of people, and [I could] ensure that I’d never get lost on campus.”

Because of several academic and personal factors, Raneses opted to apply to RBC before transferring to the College.

“William and Mary was always my dream school, and that was the driving factor for applying to Richard Bland. I’d heard it was a guaranteed way into William and Mary that was different from the [Virginia Community College] system,” Raneses said.

Raneses would eventually be accepted into RBC’s honors program and go on to serve in its Student Assembly. She transferred to the College in 2019 and became a resident assistant, transfer admissions intern, and copy chief for The Flat Hat and Flat Hat Magazine.

“Richard Bland and William and Mary are two completely different worlds from each other, but they do have a number of similarities. The drive and passion of students at both institutions are admirable, and I had the pleasure of meeting wonderful people at both schools,” Raneses said. “Students at Richard Bland and William and Mary both have overall goals of using their education to propel their careers, but what a ‘career’ looks like and what ‘success’ looks like is very different between the two campuses.”

RICHARD BLAND HAS BEEN CAUGHT IN A TIME WARP FOR 50 YEARS. IT WAS CREATED IN THE 1960S BY WILLIAM AND MARY ALONG WITH ODU, VCU, AND CHRISTOPHER NEWPORT. ALL THOSE SCHOOLS WERE LAUNCHED WITH THEIR OWN BOARDS LONG AGO AND THRIVED. RBC NEEDS TO DO THE SAME.

- JOHN RATHBONE CHAIR OF THE RICHARD BLAND COLLEGE

“William and Mary was always my path forward and Richard Bland was the way I chose to do it. I couldn’t have been more proud of myself for making that choice, and I wouldn’t change it for the world,” she said.

RBC alumna Stephanie Curtis, who attended RBC from 2021 to 2022 and now attends Virginia Tech, raised similar points and added the perspective of a soccer player.

“I decided to go to RBC specifically because of their relations with W&M,” Curtis said. “RBC takes pride in their athletes for soccer, volleyball, basketball, baseball, and softball. With that said, the campus advertised its residential space as a marketing point to entice other students to enroll, and the dorm life was fun in my experience.”

Though Curtis was a studentathlete, her main priority was always academics.

“I saw that the professors went above and beyond for their students. One of my favorite professors, Ms. Hines, pushed me to join the debate club along with the Honors program. I met a lot of people within one year at RBC,” she said.

Despite all of these connections, both the College and RBC agree that RBC must determine its own future — with its own separate governing board.

“Today, Richard Bland is overseen by a committee of the Board of Visitors of William and Mary,” Chair of the Richard Bland College Committee John P. Rathbone P ’02 said. “This divides the attention of the board and does a disservice to both institutions.”

Rathbone added the historical context of RBC’s status among Virginia public colleges.

“Richard Bland has been caught in a time warp for 50 years. It was created in the 1960s by William and Mary along with ODU, VCU, and Christopher Newport. All those schools were launched with their own boards long ago and thrived. RBC needs to do the same,” Rathbone said.

The College’s BOV approved a resolution endorsing the separation last November.

Like the “Colleges” system of the 1960s, the separation initially seemed to be headed in a seamless direction. Senate Bill 1077, sponsored by state legislators from both parties in the General Assembly, would have granted RBC total independence with its own governing board.

The bill, which incorporated a similar House bill, received bipartisan, unanimous support in the Senate and the education committee in the House.

RBC was expecting to have its own system of governance in July 2023 until the bill reached the House Appropriations Committee.

“But what she shared with me is that some of the appropriations staff — not elected members, but the folks who actually crunch all the numbers — thought that there might actually be a larger fiscal impact than what there was,” Del. Amanda Batten, R-James City said, relaying information from Del. Emily Brewer, R-Isle of Wight, a patron of the bill and a member of the appropriations committee.

Batten serves on the House Education Committee and, like every other member, voted in favor of the legislation. But because the bill had a fiscal impact statement attached to it, it had to receive final approval from the appropriations committee before it could be considered by the full chamber.

The impact statement claims that a cost of only $41,000 would be exacted on the Auditor of Public Accounts, with no cost at all to the College and minimal costs for RBC.

The House Appropriations Committee never let the bill proceed. As a result, SB 1077 is

1925

Richmond Professional Institute founded

1930

Norfolk Division of the College of William and Mary (later ODU) founded

1960

Richard Bland College and Christopher Newport College founded alongside the Colleges of William and Mary system

1962

The Colleges of William and Mary dissolved by the General Assembly

2023

Richard Bland College failed to establish an Independent Board of Visitors

considered dead following the General Assembly’s sine die adjournment on Feb. 25, 2023.

Batten noted that financial concerns were not brought up during the Education Committee’s deliberations on the bill. Instead, members judged purely on its merits while considering that the College’s BOV “very much wanted this.”

The House Appropriations Committee was not the only faction raising objections to the current separation plan. The Virginia Community College System suggested that, instead of becoming independent, RBC could become another subsidiary of the VCCS.

“VCCS already has a lot of institutions that are under their governance,” Batten said. “So whether or not they should take on another one, I think is a question to be answered.”

State Sen. Monty Mason ’89, D-Williamsburg, a sponsor of SB 1077, said he doesn’t believe that the separation would have added additional costs to the state budget.

“There’s no necessary [additional] money in the budget because we already have an established structure, and we just want them to have their own board and their own autonomy,” Mason said. “I think there has been some difficulty on the House side, maybe with concern about more costs because they’re independent. We don’t believe that to be the case.”

Mason, like many others, pointed to DroneUp’s announcement to establish a testing, training, and research and development center at RBC.

“We believe with the DroneUp opportunities that are there, with the programs that they’ve put in place, with their beautiful residential campus, that the time is right for them to go on their own,” Mason said. “And they’ve earned it. We worked together for a lot of years. And we in the Senate unanimously believe that the time is now.”

Batten, Rathbone, and Sydow all discussed DroneUp’s plans with RBC, noting the opportunities that it would create.

“Richard Bland is kind of going into innovation,” Batten said, noting that RBC is different from any other twoyear institution in Virginia, being a residential campus along with opportunities from DroneUp. “I would say their drone program is up-and-coming and has had a lot of publicity on it.”

Rathbone echoed Batten’s sentiments.

“RBC’s collaboration with DroneUp and the development of a new research and development hub for drone technology highlights the need for a dedicated board,” Rathbone said. “The mission of each institution is unique.”

These efforts, first begun in 2014, have resulted in legislative failure. It is unclear whether Gov. Glenn Youngkin supports the legislation; his office did not respond to multiple requests for comment.

RBC’s future plans remain to be seen. Mason pointed to the possibility of incorporating the breakaway into the Senate’s budget negotiations.

“It could conceivably still be a part of the negotiations on the budget, but that doesn’t bode well for it on that side,” Mason said. “As we discussed last time, it was unanimously supported in the Senate. It’s in the Senate budget because we think the time is right. I don’t know what part of the negotiations it will play, but unfortunately, maybe not a lot.”

Batten articulated that while the prospect of it being included in budget negotiations is unlikely, she points to the possibility of a long-term review of the process.

“We’re looking to see if there could be a longer term review of the financials for Richard Bland rather than just the input that we’d received from William and Mary and some of the other stakeholders,” Batten said.

Rathbone said RBC and the BOV will try again in the near future.

“We look forward to continuing to make our case next year,” Rathbone said. “Many times, it takes more than one attempt to gain passage of a bill, but I think we established a strong foothold in this legislative session to pursue an independent board for Richard Bland College.”

For Raneses, even though she applied to RBC in hopes of eventually transferring to the College, the separation seems like the right course for both institutions.

“I think if you asked me while I was still a student at RBC, I would’ve said RBC should remain affiliated with and governed by William and Mary,” Raneses said. “As I mentioned, Richard Bland’s affiliation with William and Mary is literally why I applied and convinced myself to attend, but having now been to both schools, I think it makes more sense for them to separate.”

She pointed to the relationship of RBC with its vibrant local Petersburg community. Situated approximately an hour outside Richmond, Petersburg’s population size is about double that of Williamsburg.

“Don’t get me wrong, I benefited a lot from the close relationship between RBC and William and Mary. But I do think both schools would do really well on their own — Richard Bland especially,” Raneses added.

She said RBC is colloquially referred to as just “Richard Bland” and “many may not even know about their affiliation” with the College.

She also cited her involvement in RBC committee meetings at the BOV as a source of her support for the separation.

“As someone who has sat and spoken on Richard Bland committee BOV meetings, I can also say that I think Richard Bland could benefit more from a BOV tailored to the needs of the school itself,” Raneses said. “It would be much easier for William and Mary BOV members to not have to deal with the logistical nightmares of traveling to campus and hosting meetings on top of their other work as members.”

Like Sydow and others, Raneses believes disunion would be the most beneficial path forward.

“As an alumna of both institutions, this is the best outcome for them both. I truly believe RBC and W&M have gotten all they can through their partnership, and so have other students like me who

have degrees from the both,” Raneses said. “I am unsure of why the bill was killed in committee, but I could easily chalk it up to people being afraid to take a step forward.”

For alums like Curtis and Raneses, the connection between the institutions represented opportunities for students.

“I loved that the affiliation with William and Mary was a huge plus in terms of resources, scholarships, and programs,” Raneses said. “I hope Richard Bland will still be able to keep some of these things intact if the schools separate, but I know they have plans to chart a path to a future beyond William and Mary.”

Even if RBC and the College officially separate in the future, officials from both institutions say the impact of the separation on the day-to-day operations of RBC would be limited, and connections between the College would remain.

“William and Mary has guaranteed admission agreements with all of Virginia’s public two-year institutions, and the university would continue to welcome RBC students to William and Mary,” Suzanne Clavet, the College’s Director of News and Media, said.

“I suppose ‘separating’ is the technical term,” Raneses said, “but I see it as a way for Richard Bland to grow on its own and into a new era.”

Images Courtesy of The College of William & Mary and Richard Bland College

Reshaping the Study of Antiquity

A Conversation with Professor Jessica Stephens

Since arriving at the College of William and Mary in 2016, Visiting Assistant Professor Jessica Stephens has become a well-loved and core member of the Classical Studies department, and her infectious energy and enthusiasm have attracted students across disciplines to the department. Over the past few years, Stephens has pioneered new courses that connect ancient history to contemporary issues, widening the scope of what has traditionally been considered “Classics.” Read on to hear about Stephens’ novel approach to this corner of academia as well as her efforts to foster community with students.

Story by Vivian Hoang ‘24

Photo by Ryan Goodman ‘25

For how big of a Classical Studies enthusiast she is, you might be surprised to discover that Professor Jessica Stephens never read the “Percy Jackson” series — at least, not until this past year, when her students jokingly pressured her into engaging with the young demigod. Indeed, you might wonder how she missed out when Jackson became a cultural staple, regardless of any preexisting interest in Greek and Roman mythology.

Perhaps it was because Stephens instead spent her time directly studying classical languages and history. After developing a love for Latin in high school, she decided to minor in Classical Studies at Truman State University. Her passion for Classics only grew, leading her to earn her first Master’s in Classics at the University of Colorado at Boulder and, eventually, a Ph.D. in Greek and Roman History at the University of Michigan.

These intensive years of schooling and research ultimately prepared her for her role as Visiting Assistant Professor in the Classical Studies department at the College of William & Mary.

One of the most common misconceptions that Stephens encounters is that “Classics” refers to classical English literature written by authors like Jane Austen. Instead, the term traditionally has been used to refer to the study of ancient Greece and Rome.

“The reason we’re called the ‘Classics’ is because elite Europeans thought that these texts by Aristotle and Plato and Tacitus and Livy, [and] the poets Catullus and Virgil, and the like, should be the canon, the classical canon,” Stephens said. “So our name as a field is really bound up with that history. And it’s not something that I think many Classics departments engage with.”

Stephens possesses a more expansive view of Classical Studies than most, which in turn, influences how she conducts her courses. Even in survey courses like the History of Ancient Greece and the History of Ancient Rome, Stephens strives to traverse the Mediterranean through time and space.

“One of the things that I like to try and do in the context of my courses is teach on a Mediterraneanwide basis and try to understand Greece and Rome within the context of a much broader series of cultures,” Stephens said.

In addition to widening the scope of what regions constitute Classical Studies, Stephens strives to connect the ancient world to modern society and highlight the constant relevance of Classics.

“Because we’re products of the Enlightenment, we are engaged with the Classical world — with Greece, with Rome — every day, whether we want to be or not,” Stephens said. “And understanding how that works is actually, I think, key to being able to understand why things are the way that they are, why there are certain social inequities, why there are certain ideas that culture values.”

Stephens further explained how crucial Classical Studies are to not only understanding contemporary societal structures and values but also challenging the foundation upon which these ideas lie.

“Because Greece and Rome remain cultural touchstones in Hollywood pictures, in film and TV, in literature, in philosophy, in math, in everything, and in our understanding of the history of biology, you have to go back to these texts,” she said. “In this part of the world that we call the West, these ideas tend to be foundational. We don’t have to accept them wholesale. We don’t have to accept them uncritically. But in order to criticize, in order to change, we have to know what they are.”

Two of Stephens’ most noteworthy courses, Comparative Slavery: From Antiquity to the Modern World and The Use and Abuse of Classics: Ethnicity in Antiquity and Race in the Modern U.S., exemplify her commitment to creating a more holistic view of Classical Studies not solely centered on Greece and Rome, as well as her meaningful alignment of the past with the present.

“More recently, in 2018, I introduced a course called Comparative Slavery. We look at slavery from basically as early as we can up into the modern world. And slavery in antiquity has always been a research interest of mine, in no small part because of how ubiquitous it was and how different it was in many ways as compared to slavery in the United States, which is always our cultural touchstone,” Stephens said. “And in crafting that class, I started thinking more about how the field in many ways was instrumental in creating the world that we have today post-transatlantic slave trade. And so out of that interest — in fact, out of one lecture in my Comparative Slavery course — I came up with an entire other course that looks at ethnicity in antiquity and racism in the modern U.S.”

Stephens hopes to build upon her Comparative Slavery course to contribute to academia.

“I would love to write a sourcebook for my Comparative Slavery course. There isn’t one that looks at primary evidence from all the way back to today,” Stephens said. “I have collated a lot of sources from different places, but I’d love to put them in one volume. I’m not sure if that will ever happen, but it’s a dream.”

Her current research examines assimilation and acculturation during the transition from the Roman Republic to the Roman Imperial period, particularly in terms of what that transition looked like at different times and places for people of varying statuses.

But Stephens has even bigger plans than these projects — she has made it her mission to continue diversifying and expanding the classes that the Classical Studies department offers, hoping to create even more courses like her Comparative Slavery and Ethnicity courses.

“I hope that I can start offering a broader selection of the courses that we have on the books,” Stephens said. “We have a lot of classes on the website that we haven’t been able to offer in recent years. So I’d like to branch out into those, in addition to adding some more. I’ve been very fortunate in that the department has already allowed me to add these two new courses that are odd in some ways to be housed in the Classics department. I think I make a good argument for why they are in the Classics, but they’re not your typical Classics courses, so I’d love the chance to continue that tradition.”

Despite their significance, pioneering courses centered around such topics can be challenging. Stephens quickly recognized that she needed to build rapport with her students and turn the classroom into a safe space to enable productive discussion and comfortable engagement with the source material.

“[Having safe spaces is important] especially in a class where you’re talking about difficult topics like slavery or rape or racism ... I mean, these are fraught topics,” Stephens said. “And if you don’t come up with a way to become comfortable with one another, you’re never going to have real conversation. I do lecture, but I think conversation, in no small part, helps students articulate their ideas in a way that me lecturing for 50 minutes or 80 minutes will never fully achieve. So even in what I consider my lecturebased courses, there are still opportunities to dialogue.”

Stephens explained that she maintains tight-knit relationships with her students and facilitates long, fruitful discussions, even in bigger classes with upwards of 50 people. To achieve her goal, Stephens employs two crucial methods: infusing her personality into the classroom and getting to know her students as friends and equals.

“One of the things that I think I have always tried to be to my students is not just a professor, but a whole person,” Stephens said. “And as a whole person, I have an entire other world and an entire other life, aside from this job and from what I do on campus. And it’s always fun to sort of bring that into the classroom and become a little bit of a human because I think sometimes there’s a tendency to not think of professors very much as people. And so I’m always interested in getting to know my students a little bit more and allowing them to get to know me a little bit more. And I think that’s part of why I have so much fun, and I hope my students have so much fun in their learning.”

Stephens proudly noted that her students regularly check in with her about her gardening hobby and her beloved cat, who has become somewhat of a mascot for Stephens’ classes.

“If someone’s had me before, they’ll usually ask the question, ‘How is Mr. Vincent doing?’ And that is my cat,” Stephens said with a laugh. “It’s sort of adorable because I try and put a picture of him in my PowerPoints every semester.”

When talking to Stephens, a self-proclaimed “glass half-full kind of person,” you’ll soon see that she radiates pure love and enthusiasm for the work she does on campus and in academia. She even failed to come up with even one thing she dislikes about her job. She stressed that a large part of what keeps her glass overflowing is the strong community she has built with her students through her warm and caring approach to teaching.

“Something that is kind of a recurring phenomenon is just my intense joy of working with you guys, with William and Mary students,” Stephens said. “This is the third university that I’ve taught at, and you students are remarkable. It is fun to work with you, fun to talk to you. And so teaching a new course and then getting feedback from students along the way, learning what is working for you guys, what isn’t working for you guys, is very much enjoyable for me.”

Reflections

Reflections

Reflections

Our “Reflections” shoot was an incredible day of exploring perspective. We captured the models’ reflections on a grand piano, which, given their clothes, makeup, and poses, fashioned an elevated elegance. We assembled three outfits, each exuding off similar, yet unique auras, ranging from sophisticated and simple to dramatic and glamorous, from Taylor Swift’s “reputation era” to New Year’s Eve style. Each look was classy in its own way, embodying society’s understanding of beauty and formal attire, important given the theme, as most people try to reflect the best version of themselves — physically and intellectually — when presenting themselves to the world.

Flat Hat Magazine Style Director

Inaya Mir ’25

Vision by JR Herman ‘24, Justin Sherlock ‘23

Style by JR Herman ‘24, Inaya Mir ‘25, Hannah Montalvo ‘25, Leyah Owusu ‘23

Production by Inaya Mir ‘25, Grace Rivera ‘25, Justin Sherlock ‘23

Makeup by Rachel Bardon ‘23, Emily Han ‘25, Julia Varner ‘25

Modeled by Senam Amevor ‘24, Mary O’Leary ‘25, Leyah Owusu ‘23

Photos by Zachary Lutzky ‘24, Hannah Montalvo ‘25

Design by JR Herman ‘24

For more photos, visit flathatmagazine.com.

AI

Story and Art by Taylor Robertson ‘23

Design by Andrew Johnston ‘25

Taylor Robertson ’23 details his journey creating art through AI image generators like Lensa and Midjourney, discussing their current capabilities, potential benefits, and ethical and legal considerations.

For me, it began with seeing someone I follow on Instagram post a flawless digital portrait. I thought, “Oh, they commissioned it.” Then I tapped to see the next photo in the story, only to find another portrait. Then another. A whole album’s worth.

After investigating, I discovered Lensa. Lensa was able to generate 100 artistic digital portraits of me based on 20 photos of my face, a feature dubbed “Magic Avatar.” Sure, only 20 of the portraits looked enough like me for me to recognize myself, and of those, there were only 10 I truly liked.

Little did I know that this experience was my first plunge into what would become a deep dive into AI art.

As a fantasy fiction writer, I’ve pictured dozens of fantastical places and people in my head, things I can describe with words but have never had the patience to draw or learn to paint digitally. Lensa was just the tip of the iceberg once I started researching what else was out there.

I began to experiment with three different image generation AIs: Stable Diffusion, DALL-E, and Midjourney. Stable Diffusion was the first to market and can run on your own computer (if you have the technical prowess, patience, and RAM). DALL-E was made by OpenAI — the creator of ChatGPT — and is generated on their servers. Midjourney runs through Discord, which makes it handier than the other two; I can easily prompt AI art on the fly from my phone.

Over the past three months, I have generated thousands of AI art pieces. I’ve iterated on a single prompt a dozen times to get a piece of art more specific to what I want. Using those initial avatars I created of myself through Lensa, I’ve even been able to place myself into the art through prompting with a starting image in addition to text, or through a combination of two images.

However, I couldn’t write this article without acknowledging that these image generators scraped the internet without seeking permission from artists or photographers. The images Midjourney or Stable Diffusion generate are a prediction based on everything it has seen before (in other words, everything on the internet is up for grabs). It isn’t capable of true creativity, but the sum of humanity’s artistic creation until now is quite a hefty sum to jumble up and regurgitate. For the modern user who wants to picture their Dungeons & Dragons character better or bring

the imaginary wonders in their head to life, AI art is a very strong tool.

Attempts to copyright art produced by one of these AIs have failed to hold up in court. Many artists feel cheated out of their work and art styles without any form of compensation. But if any human’s art is merely the recombination of everything they’ve ever seen before, how is Midjourney any different? It’s a question to be further answered by the courts, but there’s no resealing this Pandora’s box.

Through my creations, I’ve learned a few lessons of little import:

1) Midjourney is awful at generating flying broomsticks and mirroring fantasy traits (like placing pegasi wings on both sides of a horse’s body or putting a set of bunny ears on both sides of a human head).

2) Midjourney doesn’t know Hogwarts wouldn’t have lamps.

3) Text will be unintelligible.

4) Weird things appear in weird places. Look too closely, and nothing is what it seems.

Ultimately, it makes me happy to feel my dreams realized by art in a way that would have cost tens of thousands of dollars to commission only a year ago. AI has challenged artists, and with ChatGPT and GPT4, it’s threatening other fields as well. My recommendation to everyone would be to create — create whatever AI is currently incapable of creating but also use AI’s current capabilities to create art that will further enrich your life. Even if you’re not interested in AI, being able to use it will likely become one of the most marketable skills.

Talking Animals,

Princesses, & Cannibalism

The Fairy Tales

We All Know and Love

Story by Sharon Sandler ‘25

Photo by Ryan Goodman ‘25

Design by Marion Biondi ‘24

A fairly ubiquitous childhood experience, fairy tales have long served as a repository of delight and fascination for young children. However, through careful analysis of the source material that modern fairy tales ostensibly seek to retell, Sharon Sandler ’25 reveals the dark and even grotesque underbelly of these seemingly innocent stories. Through thick and thin — that is, disturbing and even more disturbing — Sharon braves the depths of the Brothers Grimm’s twisted tales, tracing their ties to violence, incest, cannibalism, misogyny, and even the rise of Nazism.

What makes a fairy tale a fairy tale? Is it the princess? The enchanted animal? Or perhaps the incestuous father and cannibalistic stepmother?

To understand fairy tales, we must first understand their origins. Fairy tales fall under the field of folk studies, and a disputed — but key — idea in folk studies is that there is no single “original” version. In other words, the fairy tales we know today are just the popularized, highly edited versions of stories from an endless sea of diverse, unrecoverable, orally transmitted variations. The popular Brothers Grimm were not authors but story collectors, and originally, their collections were not even intended for children — their goal was to preserve cultural history, and only a combination of dwindling prospects in academia and nationalistic ideas sweeping German lands would lead to the collection’s introduction into schools. The brothers’ editing practices strongly influenced the stories preserved today — because the brothers disapproved of premarital sex, for example, mentions of premarital sex were edited out of many of their tales. However, violence, incest, sexism, and cannibalism were, perhaps surprisingly for a modern audience, not on the brothers’ list of discomforts.

Disney’s adaptation of “Cinderella” is far from the tale the Brothers Grimm recorded in their 1812 and 1857 collections — theirs is replete with violence, gore, and female mutilation. In the Grimms’ version, there is no godmother or carriage. Instead, Cinderella sleeps in ashes, weeps, and prays for three days until animals help her attend the ball. When the prince eventually tries to uncover her identity, he traps her in a path filled with a sticky, tar-like substance and then sends his guards to find her — stalking and physically restraining a woman are “charming” acts that will get you the girl. After Cinderella’s

stepsisters unsuccessfully cut off their heels or toes to take her place, Cinderella proves her true identity by sliding her foot easily into the slipper (without, of course, leaving behind blood like her stepsisters). Nor are the loss of toes and heels sufficient punishment for these women — pigeons peck out their eyes at Cinderella’s wedding, the happy ending. The Brothers Grimm’s Cinderella is a tale of repeated female suffering laced with violence and gore. But there is still a princess, enchanted animals, and what is supposed to be a happy ending. There are no internal thoughts — everything is on the surface, and that surface is bloody.

To find the incestuous father, we look to “Allfurs,” also known as “All-Kinds-of-Furs” or “Allerleirauh.” The queen, on her deathbed, told her husband that if he chose to remarry, the woman must be as perfect as her, and the king decides that their daughter is the only woman who meets this standard. The daughter is forced to disguise herself as a feathered creature to escape her father’s desire and ends up having to work as a servant for another king, whom she falls in love with and eventually convinces to be her beloved.

Image Courtesy of Wikimedia

Upping the disturbing material to evil stepmothers, murder, and cannibalism, we look to “The Juniper Tree.” A man and his wife essentially conceive a son from a tree outside of their house, but the wife dies as soon as the child is born, and the husband eventually remarries and has a daughter, Marlene, with his new wife. The new wife is a “gold digger,” and to make sure nothing will come in the way of her inheritance, she chops off the head of her husband’s son, then puts the head back on his neck to disguise her crime, all while placing an apple in his hand. When Marlene enters the room and asks her half-brother for the apple (unaware of the situation), he, of course, does not respond, and Marlene’s mother instructs her to ask for the apple again and to hit her half-brother in the ear if he doesn’t respond, which, of course, causes his head to fall to the floor. The wife then cooks the son and feeds him to her unsuspecting husband and daughter, who believes she killed her half-brother by hitting him. Marlene cries and buries his bones under the juniper tree. The tree produces a bird that sings an eerie song and goes on a journey to retrieve a golden chain, red shoes, and a millstone. The bird returns to the juniper tree, gives the father the golden chain and Marlene the red shoes, and kills the wife with the millstone before miraculously transforming into the son. The happily reunited family goes inside and enjoys a joyous meal together.

There is no shortage of unsettling elements in “The Juniper Tree.” Like in “Cinderella” and “Allfurs,” good

things follow female suffering, but more importantly, the addition of the evil stepmother reaffirms a misogynistic narrative intertwining murder and cannibalism. Yet, like other fairy tales, the story lacks depth, character development, and explanation. This lack of surprise and questioning by the characters when experiencing and witnessing horrible things helps create the unnerving tone of fairy tales. Our discomfort with fairy tales is further amplified when looking beyond the actual content of the tales to how they helped advance the Nazi party. Amid the rise of German nationalism, the Nazis turned to fairy tales as a source of socialist realism, which they used to create nostalgia for Germany’s “pure” and “innocent” past. Popular fairy tales like “Cinderella” were employed to showcase the “good German girl,” while other tales like “The Jew in the Thorn Bush” (also in the Brothers Grimm’s collection) manifestly promoted antisemitism. However, like the characters in the tales, German citizens seemed not to question the horrors happening around them. Nor should this parallel be interpreted as merely coincidental — folktales both are shaped by and shape contemporary society.

So, what makes a fairy tale a fairy tale?

Perhaps it is their strange connection to reality, despite their supposed distance from it.

Image Courtesy of Quora

MADNESS MERCH

This semester, we dropped an exciting new line of merch: our “Classic Logo” and “Top Hat” Collections. With stickers, mugs, tote bags, sweatshirts, hoodies, t-shirts, baseball caps, bucket hats, crop sweatshirts, and crop tops, we’ve got merch to match your mood, style, and budget.

Worldwide shipping.

StrutyourstuffontheWren-way!

Story by Mary Beth Bauermann ‘24

Graphics by JR Herman ‘24

Think back to any major moment in your life and, chances are, there is at least one song that you can tie to it. Mary Beth Bauermann ’24 traces the evolution of music technology and playlisting practices, both of which provide a lens through which we can analyze music and the ways it complements memory.

e all have songs that we’ve come to associate with memories throughout our lives, songs that act as time machines and evoke nostalgia (check out our staff-curated “Reflection” playlist, and you’ll see what I mean). Over the years, technology has facilitated people’s ability to put all those memory-inducing songs together on cassette tapes and CDs, transport them anywhere, and share them with others. In recent years, the rising popularity of Spotify has provided a means of curating intangible playlists and creating a digital archive that, in theory, we should be able to revisit and reflect upon for years to come.

At the tail end of 2022, I read a book that changed the way I think about music and memory. It all started last summer when, in hardcore Beatles fan fashion, I decided that my “fun” summer read would be a nonfiction book called Dreaming the Beatles by Rob Sheffield. A prominent critic for Rolling Stone Magazine since the ’70s, Sheffield has shared decades of musical opinions, but Dreaming the Beatles offers both a historical account of The Beatles’ lasting impact on generations after their initial fame, as well as a personal narrative of his life told through the group’s music. As a reader, I resonated so deeply with certain experiences detailed by Sheffield that, at times, I felt as though he was telling my story, too. Reviews of Dreaming the Beatles showed that I wasn’t the only one who felt this way. The idea of collective narratives surrounding music intrigued me and, upon finishing Dreaming the Beatles, I set out to read Sheffield’s most famous book — Love Is a Mixtape: Life and Loss, One Song at a Time — over winter break. I had no idea the pages before me would soon transform my perspective on the ways in which I listen to my favorite songs, construct and circulate playlists, and generally think about music as sonic markers of specific moments of my life.

Over the course of Love Is a Mixtape, Sheffield shares 22 mixtapes that he made, spanning decades of his life. From “Roller Boogie,” composed of the songs Sheffield chose to play when he was put in charge of the music for

his middle school dance, to “Paramount Hotel,” which provides the soundtrack to his first summer as a widower, each tape acts as a window into Sheffield’s life at any given moment, just as any playlist on our Spotify profiles might represent a specific time in our lives. Each chapter, framed by a different mixtape, explores events and particular tracks in great depth, providing insights into personal resonances with songs. This is illustrated in Sheffield’s discussion of the song “Thirteen” by Big Star, which introduced him to his wife and was the first dance song at their wedding. Many of us likely have songs that we associate with life events, whether it be a song that reminds us of a fond childhood memory or a song we listened to during a breakup. For me, David Bowie has been the maestro for several significant life memories. On the last day of high school before COVID-19 prevented us from ever returning, my choir teacher let us sing karaoke, and we chose to sing “Starman.” It’s the last song I remember us singing together. Bowie’s “Heroes” was playing when I made the decision to go to the College of William and Mary.

We don’t make mixtapes in their traditional sense anymore, but some of us may have experience burning mix CDs. I remember making mix CDs for birthday parties in elementary school with lots of Natasha Bedingfield, Fearless and Speak Now-era Taylor Swift, and the Jonas Brothers. My cousins and I exchanged mix CDs for Christmas one year,

which introduced me to artists they loved, like Glass Animals and St. Vincent, while I introduced them to some of my favorites, including Animal Collective and Geographer. Whenever I hear songs from those mix CDs, vivid memories of specific places, events, and people come flooding back. Ultimately, a retrospective look at what is now considered antiquated music-sharing technology, like cassettes and mix CDs, illustrates the link they have to memory. It leads me to wonder what we’ll experience one day when we revisit the playlists we’re currently making on Spotify and other streaming platforms.

Already, if we look back at the playlists we made in 2020 — an extremely eventful year in most of our lives — it’s likely that the songs they contain transport us back to what feels like a different world, evoking a wide array of emotions. Listening to “Starman” makes me nostalgic for high school choir rehearsals and pre-pandemic normalcy, just as listening to “Heroes” brings back all the anxiety I experienced during the college decision process and the clarity that accompanied

committing to a school. As college students, we’re living through a formative period of our lives, and the songs on the playlists we create will one day have the power to transport us back to our college years, for better or for worse.

In the past two years, I’ve started making semesterly playlists, compiling all the songs I listened to on repeat during that semester for the sole purpose of keeping a record. I know that I’ll always associate the songs on them with the people and places important to me during my time at the College.

I think Sheffield said it best: “The times you lived through, the people you shared those times with — nothing brings it all to life like an old mixtape. It does a better job of storing up memories than actual brain tissue can do. Every mixtape tells a story. Put them together, and they can add up to the story of a life.” Maybe my Spotify playlists will add up to the story of my college life. Only time will tell.

for the diehards

Story by Katie Fitzgerald ‘26

Design by India Turner ‘24

Image Courtesy of Rolling Stone

Katie takes a trip down memory lane and reminisces on the good ol’ days of the emo 2000’s, while also looking at the current emo trend in all of its glory. By looking at examples of both pure, nostalgic emo music, as well as more mainstream, clout-chasing artists simply capitalizing off of the trend, Katie attempts to discover the cause of this resurgence at all of its facets.

Picture this: you’ve recently heard one of your favorite bands — Fall Out B Boy — is touring the United States this summer. You frantically head to the library, crossing your fingers as you order tickets for the pit — yes, the pit. You deserve it after such a hard year, and your heart lifts with excitement as the order confirms. Fall Out Boy, here you come! There are three different eras where this could possibly happen: the early 2000s at the peak of the “emo movement,” the mid-2010s when bands like Fall Out Boy and Paramore were returning from long hiatuses, or the early 2020s when emo became a nostalgia trip for millennials. If you guessed the year 2023, you’re right. Fall Out Boy, along with other bands like My Chemical Romance and Paramore, have made swaggering returns to mainstream culture and found a new audience among teens and young people who wish they were around for the early aughts.

“Emo” is a subculture that generally consists of expressing deep feelings through clothes, gender, and music. This movement embraced the outcasts, those exiled by mainstream trends and society, as they pursued selfexpression via dark clothes and punk music. Some of the titans of this trend — celebrities such as Gerard Way and Pete Wentz — wore their hearts on their sleeves in the form of witty and slightly misogynistic lyrics that captivated teens in 2000s America. Yet, at the end of the day, the emo movement had a short-lived 15 minutes of fame that faded

with the rise of the 2010s four-on-the-floor dance club music. Of course, the bands themselves didn’t die, and many remained active (with plenty of backlash from fans and critics). Fall Out Boy took a hiatus, returned in 2013, and is consistently popular to this day. Paramore has also remained steady, and they’ve found new success on TikTok. To the surprise of many, My Chemical Romance has returned after many thought they had permanently broken up. Other bands like Panic! At The Disco have not been as fortunate, with the band losing all of its founding members besides singer and frontman Brendon Urie who announced the official breakup of the band in January of this year.

It’s common for old trends to be brought back from the dead under the rose-colored glasses of nostalgia, and the emo movement is no exception. With the rise in 2000s nostalgia, the emo movement followed along like a younger sibling. It’s hard to pinpoint what exactly caused the explosive return of emo culture, but it is happening during a storm of nostalgia-based trends, with a heavier focus on instruments in music and growing interest in Y2K fashion. Social media apps such as TikTok act as a cultural catalyst for every trend under the sun — songs, styles, and trends can be shared and reshared faster than ever before. It’s no surprise that this app helped spur the explosive revival of emo.

OUR HEARTS eat for for the

Alongside the resurgence of a trend comes those wishing to capitalize on it, and in this sense, emo has nearly been run to the ground. Some fresh faces like Olivia Rodrigo with her breakout album Sour — which partially kickstarted the “emo renaissance” — have good intentions releasing their art, but others don’t. At the end of the day, emo is still a trend, and it is one on which people want to capitalize. In the past year alone, hundreds of bands categorized under the emo moniker have released new singles and

THE diehards

albums. I would like to discuss a few of these titans in particular — Paramore, Fall Out Boy, and My Chemical Romance — and compare them to rising “emo” stars.

For Fall Out Boy and Paramore, their most recent releases in 2023 are simultaneously returns to form and breaths of new life for the bands. So Much (For) Stardust and This Is Why incorporate themes of isolation from the COVID-19 pandemic, anxiety, and romance, alongside sharper sounds from both groups. Fall Out Boy has taken on the form of heavier guitars and drums — a pivot from their previous album — while for Paramore, a smoother and funkier tone is introduced in songs like the title track “C’est Comme Ça.” Although they did not return to their pop-punk roots, both bands have continued to mark their place in mainstream alternative spaces, all while leaving the days of Monster Energy and heavy eyeliner behind. The sounds on both albums are new to fans, but they have been positively received as steps forward. The elusive My Chemical Romance, on the other hand, has only released a single song amidst touring: a five-minute ballad titled “Foundations of Decay.” It is reminiscent of the band’s early, harder work with lyrics inspired by their personal history as well as familiar imagery of death and decay.

this emo renaissance. As the trend slowly fades away, artists who have created one-hit wonders under the guise of emo — utilizing simple chord progressions and shallow, elementary lyrics — will either hop onto another trend or fade into obscurity.

This isn’t to say that there aren’t good artists who’ve reinspired the emo movement. Some bands — especially those consisting of women, people of color, and queer people — have created new spaces for themselves, as many grew up on bands like Paramore and My Chemical Romance. Some prime examples with releases in the past year are Meet Me @ The Altar’s recent debut album Past // Present // Future and Pinkshift’s 2022 album, Love Me Forever.

for the the DIEH

When considering more famous recent artists, two controversial examples come to mind — Machine Gun Kelly and YUNGBLUD have utilized the resurgence of emo to their advantage. With their most recent releases, mainstream sellout and YUNGBLUD, respectively, they’ve broken into mainstream culture, selling the emo phase as not just a trend, but as a genre and lifestyle. Unfortunately, their albums feature uninspired lyrics, grating vocals, and a substantial lack of any unique chords or rhythms. What’s even more obscene is how both artists hail from other musical backgrounds, poorly imitating the greats in

While classic artists who hailed from the original rise of emo will continue to stand the test of time, the most crucial part of the movement has been creating a safe haven for new artists and fans alike. If there’s one thing the trend has done, time and time again, it’s creating a space for the outcasts and misfits. For artists like Machine Gun Kelly who struck overnight fame for his shift to pop-punk “emo” music, emo isn’t about embracing anything in particular. Instead, it is only about blending into the mainstream hype. Even past their original prime, bands like Fall Out Boy and Paramore continue to be innovative, experimenting with a plethora of new influences, genres, and instruments to create truly authentic sounds. As we approach the summer, this “emo renaissance” may fade, but I’m thankful for the memories, even though they weren’t always so great.

IN THE AGE OF TRUE CRIME THE ETHICS

OF SOCIAL MEDIA

Story by Emma Saunders ‘24

Graphic by Danielle Seay ‘25

Page Design by India Turner ‘24

True crime media is nothing new — society has always had an interest in shocking and gripping cases, especially taboo ones. However, social media platforms like TikTok have sparked conversations about the ethics of true crime. Is it ethical to call true crime “entertainment?” Emma Saunders ’24 attempts to sort through the convoluted tangle of opinions on the intersections of social media and true crime.

Debates about how true crime should be treated in the media and whether or not it can be considered a “hobby” to consume people’s lived experiences and trauma as podcasts, television shows, movies, books, etc. have risen to the forefront of social media.

This discourse was first brought to my attention a few months ago when a TikTok sound by @joecastlebaker was trending, and it said: “Her arms were cut off. Her legs were cut off. Her ears were cut off. Her tongue was cut off. Her nose was cut off. Her eyeballs were plucked out. Her eyebrows were then waxed. Her tongue was sliced open. Her hair was cut off.”

The sound parodied true crime podcasts that describe murders in similar detail, but what surprised me were the 38,000 videos using it. One video using the sound said, “Me peacefully falling asleep to a crime/murder documentary,” with a written caption that noted, “IDK why it’s so relaxing.” Another video similarly said, “Me watching crime shows to relax.” These online comments raise alarming questions regarding the creation and consumption of true crime media.

Murder mysteries and media revolving around crime are nothing new in popular culture. I am the first to admit to having a Criminal Minds phase and then a subsequent “Buzzfeed Unsolved” fixation. Most people have some amount of morbid curiosity,

and the rise of social media has made me more desensitized than my parents and grandparents to descriptions of violence like the sounds above. However, the release of Ryan Murphy’s “Dahmer” in September 2022 has revived discussions about the ethics of consuming media related to true crime and how true crime should be treated in film and television.

From what I have observed on social media, there are two sides to the discourse about “Dahmer” and, by extension, true crime media as a whole. The first side focuses more on considering the ethics of dramatizing stories of victims whose families are still alive. Rita Isbell, whose brother Errol Lindsey was one of Jeffrey Dahmer’s victims, shared her view on the show’s portrayal of her family’s tragedy.

“If the show benefitted [the families] in some way, it wouldn’t feel so harsh and careless. It’s sad that they’re just making money off of this tragedy. That’s just greed,” she told Insider in a statement following the show’s release. Many people carried this message forward and began speaking out about the damage that media like “Dahmer” does, not only to the people affected by the crimes portrayed but also to the sensitivity and morality of viewers who do not seem to recognize the effects of the media they consume.

TikTok user @nothaja sums up these concerns in her video addressed to fans of the show: “You know as well as I know that these were real people with real lives … these [victims] still have friends that are alive, mothers [and] children that are alive to this day that are possibly on this app, but you don’t care.”

The other side of this discourse reacted oppositely — people began posting that they wished “Dahmer” had been more graphic despite its TV-MA rating for violence, gore, and frightening scenes. Some of these viewers bragged that they were unfazed by the violent acts in the show, sparking heavy backlash. However, some of the more intense fans of true crime and Jeffrey Dahmer himself admitted that they wished the show had featured a more realistic and graphic depiction of Dahmer’s murders.

One fan of the show in a now-deleted TikTok stated: “I’m highly obsessed with crime show/ murder mysteries. Y’all not about to come for me for being into stuff like that. Y’all are the problem for tryna cancel people for no reason. If I wanted to see him cut people’s heads off and eat people, I will say that.”

This statement seems to represent the disconnect that many have between consuming fiction and supporting media that profits off of the dramatization of victims’ stories. I understand the appeal of wanting to sit down and read a good murder mystery; Agatha Christie is one of the most famous fiction writers in the world for a reason. However, being “obsessed with murder mysteries” is not the same as wanting to see real murders play out in all of their gruesome detail.

Western society is no stranger to a fascination with murder and its perpetrators. I’d be shocked to meet anyone who hadn’t heard of infamous cases like “Jack the Ripper” and “The Zodiac Killer.” However, the rapid development of social media has given true crime fanatics a platform, allowing comments like the following from @ tearsofacid1437 on TikTok to go viral: “It might sound crazy but I do love Dahmer. Do I like or agree with what he did? No. But I have my reasons to why I like him.” Social media allows for the formation of communities of like-minded people, but they can easily perpetuate dangerous and harmful ideas.

Many fans of true crime argue that it is not the killer’s story that is being told, but rather, the stories of their victims. However, many point out that this seems more like an excuse than a valid argument. After all, there are very few shows that are advertised as stories about victims rather than perpetrators, and this is evident in their

titles alone. “The Jeffrey Dahmer Files,” “My Friend Dahmer,” “Fresh Meat: Jeffrey Dahmer,” “Hunting Ted Bundy,” “House of Manson,”

“Charlie Says, Manson: Music from an Unsound Mind,” “Charles Manson: The Final Words,” “Manson Family Vacation,” “Ted Bundy: American Boogeyman,” and “Menendez: Blood Brothers” are just a few examples. The constant retelling of the lives of serial killers ensures that their names are never forgotten. If these stories

were being told for the sake of the victims, we would remember the victims’ names instead. The intention of this article is not to criticize fans of true crime or even the genre itself — there is value in understanding what one can do to keep oneself safe in threatening situations. However, I would urge fans of the genre both to think about the intentions underlying their consumption as well as consider who is being affected by this “entertainment.”

Image Courtesy of The Ringer

why are we so y2k? obsessed with

Story and Design by Marion Biondi ‘24

The whimsy of Y2K and all its associated context seems to be scratching an itch for our generation. More than just a yearning for tacky fashion, our nostalgia may be an attempt to restore the youth to our increasingly soulless society.

The revolutionary, whimsical Y2K — also known as The Year 2000. Not only the turn of the millennium and the time of birth for many of us but also the cause of widespread panic for computer programmers, who feared calendar data would not be able to handle the novel coding of ‘2000,’ thus creating the ‘Y2K Problem.’ Computer programming, however, was not the only early-2000s problem — we can’t forget about 9/11, stock market crashes, the Iraq War, and more. And yet, as barely conscious beings at this point, all appeared well for us. While world events rumbled in the periphery, we were enraptured in Scholastic Bookfairs, Trix yogurt cups, the D.S. chat feature, and Hello Kitty everything.

Herein lies the magical dreamworld of youth and denim suits that we have not quickly forgotten. Low-rise denim jeans and trucker hats are making a resurgence, and aughts-inspired pop punk is on the rebound. The Jonas Brothers are back together, and Paris Hilton is now a chef. Now, is this style making a comeback because we actually find the tackiness of the 2000s to be worthwhile? Not likely.

It appears we may be experiencing a bout of nostalgia — longing for the feelings associated with the time. “Nostalgiacore” has permeated online spaces with content full of oddly specific yet ubiquitously recognizable images — from slideshows of Mr. Sketch “Smelly” markers and Kid Cuisines to videos captioned “POV: you’re in third grade, and it’s the last day of school before winter break.” We are stopped in our tracks because a once latent part of ourselves has now been awakened: our inner child. We are also instilled with solemn awareness that that part of us is now gone.

Nostalgia was originally described by a 17th-century Swiss doctor as a “neurological disease of essentially demonic cause” because, sometimes, it can be a painful and even distressing experience marked by grief. We grieve the excitability of what we would now consider mundane. We grieve the naivety of the less savory parts of the human experience. We grieve the courageous minds of children so brazenly present, unaffected by the anxiety of what’s been or fear of what’s to come.

Our generation didn’t invent this. Talk of “the good old days” has occurred for decades. The 20-year rule describing how fashion trends and popular culture cycle every twenty years has been long established. And funnily enough, our reminiscence of these times is often through rose-colored lenses that romanticize the difficult historical context of the past. How else are we expected to cope with the ever-heightening stakes of existence, especially when our generation is feeling the heat?

Adulthood in our postmodern, capitalistic society is no picnic. It conditions us away from the present, teaching us to define ourselves by our

past and attempt full control over our future. Threats of apocalypse — pandemics, war, climate change, and artificial intelligence — keep us vigilant and untrusting. Inequality and bigotry, despite all the progress we’ve made, still run rampant. Our increasingly virtual reality doesn’t satisfy the sensational grittiness we experienced with our bare feet in grass and our lungs full of evening barbecue aroma. Being an adult now also means suffering an overload of media, information, knowledge, opinions, news, ideas, work, waste, things. We are overwhelmed by complexity as adults, so we yearn for the simplicity of our youth.

Sadly, youthfulness has no place in our work-dominated society. Our world, where productivity trumps all, has sustained skewed priorities. What was once the joy, leisure, and creativity of a child becomes the efficiency, professionalism, and submission of a worker. That zest for life is no longer nurtured, leaving us jaded and resigned to the forces around us. This process — written off as “growing up” — is often subliminal, beyond our conscious

awareness. When we see some niche photo of that coveted parachute from gym class or Paris Hilton’s infamous “Stop Being Poor [Desperate]” shirt, it grazes that dormant part of us that we eventually did away with to survive “the real world.”

Luckily, nostalgia is a double-edged sword. Yes, we must confront the despair and grief of realizing what is no longer, but reflection can offer an emotional reprieve from present circumstances and help us identify and restore what we have lost. Our candid generation can question the integrity and value of society’s priorities. Why must we forsake our lightheartedness for seriousness? Reports of mental health struggles have been the highest they’ve ever been. We are looking for a light in the murky waters of modernity, and dusting off that inner child might be our beacon.

So, no, the Juicy Couture sweatsuits and trucker hats of Y2K may not be our most fashionable revival, but our nostalgia for its child-like eccentricity may offer us the comfort and courage needed to rebel against soulless society for the better.

Image Courtsey of Chatter Blast

toMoviesWatch Before Graduation

**Warning: this article may induce feelings of existential dread, melancholy, or wanderlust. Proceed at your own risk.**

Story by Ellie Kurlander ‘24

“So, what are your post-grad plans?”

This well-intentioned question frequently asked by the adults in my life incites a similar response to hearing nails on a chalkboard. At the start of our college journeys, this question functions more as an abstract thought experiment — after all, we have four long years to figure out an answer. However, as many of us quickly approach the end of our college careers, we learn to curate a carefully scripted, coherent-yetvague response to appease our superiors’ wellintentioned curiosities. In reality, transitioning away from school, our closest friends, and the general comfort of being a kid is a nauseating thought.

To ease the anxieties toward our one-way ticket into adulthood, I have curated a list of five films that tackle the all-too-familiar emotions that come with beginning a new phase in life. These movies explore themes of uncertainty, (un)fulfilled expectations, familial and friendship bonds, and finding joy in the mundane. Most importantly, many of these films show that being a nervous wreck in your 20s is one of the most human things we can experience. If you don’t have an hour and fifty minutes to spare, this list also includes notable songs from each film to set the general tone, because what is a great movie without an equally great soundtrack?

Image Courtesy of Embassy Pictures

1. The Graduate (1967)

Song: The entire soundtrack (Trust me on this one. The. Whole. Thing.)

What better way to kick off this list than with an American classic? Darkly hilarious with a perfect soundtrack by Simon & Garfunkel, The Graduate is a must-watch for anyone who doesn’t know what the hell is going on in their life. The Graduate tells the story of Benjamin Braddock (Dustin Hoffman), a 21-year-old college graduate who begins an affair with his much older family friend, Mrs. Robinson. Ben further complicates his situation after falling for Mrs. Robinson’s more age-appropriate daughter, Elaine. While much of the movie is dedicated to exploring Ben’s relationships with Mrs. Robinson and Elaine, the main theme centers around his lack of direction after graduation, worsened by the imposing expectations set by the adults in his life. Though he is an “award-winning

scholar” from a well-off family, Ben finds himself in limbo, unwilling to fully transition into adulthood. In the months following his graduation, Ben floats through life: lounging by the pool, hiding in his childhood bedroom, and attending functions with his family. The reason he feels stuck in life is relatable for many recent graduates — while Ben fears his uncertain future, he is more afraid of an unfulfilling life. Despite the monotony of his current state, Ben wants his future to be “different” from that of his materialistic parents; he wants to live a life of purpose rather than conform to the lifestyle those around him have grown accustomed to. Though this movie has an ambiguous ending and gives no clear answers as to whether Ben ends up living a fulfilled life, watching the protagonist navigate feelings of isolation, uncertainty, and irrationality is something many recent college graduates may resonate with.

Song: “Anxiety Attack” by Ariel Marx

While most films on this list can qualify as comfort movies in one way or another, Shiva Baby relishes in the discomfort of its viewers. The movie follows Danielle (Rachel Sennott), a recent college graduate stuck at a shiva (a week-long Jewish mourning period) with her parents, ex-girlfriend, and sugar daddy, along with his wife and child. Shiva Baby is chaotic, claustrophobic, heartfelt, and so relatable it’s almost painful. The remainder of the film follows Danielle as she performs a tightrope act, balancing her lies, deceptions, and carefully-curated personas. One scene, in particular, features a nightmare-inducing scenario for any graduating senior: Danielle finds herself

trapped talking with distant relatives and family friends who grill her about her choice of study, post-grad plans, romantic relationships, weight, etc. Danielle, who designed her own major and can’t quite articulate what she actually studied, attempts to defend her choice of study and intended career path. Danielle’s search for identity, combined with her feelings of inferiority and immaturity, resonates with audiences, transforming her into a flawed and highly-relatable character. The ending will comfort anyone feeling lost as a post-grad with the simple message that there will always be people rooting for you and your success. Even if you think you’re going about life all wrong, Shiva Baby shows that you’re never truly alone.

2. Shiva Baby (2020)

Image Courtesy of Neon Heart Productions

3. The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (2013)

Song: “Dirty Paws” by Of Monsters and Men

The Secret Life of Walter Mitty poses the question of what it means to be satisfied with one’s life. Is it getting the girl? Is it leading a life of adventure or landing the top job? This movie suggests that pursuing satisfaction is a simpler journey than we make it out to be. The Secret Life of Walter Mitty follows the titular Walter (Ben Stiller), a photo processor for LIFE Magazine, who escapes reality through fantastical daydreams. In reality, Walter is awkward, nervous, and has difficulty connecting with those around him. Upon learning that LIFE is transitioning from print to digital format, Walter begins a globetrotting adventure in pursuit of the lost film negative intended to be developed for the final print’s cover photo. During his travels,

Walter’s daydreams are slowly replaced by reallife adventures, including longboarding down a winding Icelandic road, climbing snowy mountains in Afghanistan, fighting a shark, and jumping out of a helicopter into icy waters below. Though Walter experiences these once-in-a-lifetime moments, the film emphasizes that the pursuit of adventure is not what activates Walter’s feelings of self-worth. Instead, Walter’s happiness comes from his choice to live in the moment and savor the small things in life. This movie can serve as a great comfort for those who fear living an unfulfilling, “ordinary” life. Walter is not a superhuman who changes his attitude toward life overnight. Instead, Walter rediscovers the joy of living not without fear, but in spite of it.

4. The Worst Person in the World (2021)

Song: “Waters of March” by Art Garfunkel

Despite the title, this film is not actually about the worst person in the world. Instead, it’s based on a popular Norwegian phrase where someone refers to themself as “the worst person in the world” whenever they make a mistake, a phrase that rings true to the film’s protagonist Julie (Renate Reinsve). The story is divided into twelve parts, with a prologue and epilogue, and follows Julie through a decade of her life as she flirts, fights,

and confronts the existential dread associated with growing up and finding one’s purpose in life. As a teenager, Julie is an overachiever who attends college intending to become a doctor. However, she quickly becomes bored and shifts to psychology. When Julie burns that bridge, she shifts to photography, but again, rapidly loses interest. Suffering from chronic boredom, she often cuts and dyes her hair and seeks out new hobbies (and guys) in the pursuit of finding some greater meaning in life, and after college,

Image Courtesy of Twentieth Century Fox

Image Courtesy of Oslo Pictures

she similarly struggles to find her purpose and put down roots. The Worst Person in the World confronts our affinity for dissatisfaction in our search for meaning. Julie explains that she feels like a spectator in her own life, lacking agency while everyone else seems to thrive. As the film progresses, though, Julie discovers that, at one point or another, everyone around her has felt like the worst person in the world. The ironic part is

that none of them are the worst people; they’re just people who can learn from the mistakes that make them believe that they’re the worst. As we come of age, this film helps us understand that it’s ok to make mistakes, worry about our sense of purpose, or be unsure of what comes next. We’re all human, and we shouldn’t let our perceptions about the “right” way of living life get in the way of us actually living our lives.

5. Reality Bites (1994)

Song: “Road to Nowhere” by the Talking Heads

“Hello, you’ve reached the winter of our discontent.” This quote, spoken by Ethan Hawke’s world-weary character, sums up what life immediately after graduation feels like. This movie is a great watch for college students because it explores post-grad life’s unabashed hubris. The film follows Lelaina (Winona Ryder) and her friends, who are thrust into the “real world” following college graduation. What makes this movie so relatable is its documentary-style format. We watch Lelaina film her friends discussing their goals in life and the impact they want to have on the world. Their ambitions are not dissimilar to the Gen Z mentality of wanting to change the world for the better. However, even after graduating as valedictorian of her class, we see Lelaina get fired from an entry-level job as a production assistant and undergo the devastating job search process. Even though she received academic validation and praise from the adults in her life, Lelaina realizes that she doesn’t know it all — she makes a lot of mistakes in her career, love life, and friendships. Lelaina is confronted with tough choices: to sell out or not sell out? Stay true to yourself or settle for financial comfort? Choose a safe or spontaneous partner? Cling to friendships or create distance to get to know yourself better? All of the characters are confronted with the harsh realities of growing up; however, the movie’s message isn’t to aim low and expect disappointment. Instead, Reality Bites encourages

us to find comfort in ourselves and our friends who are just as confused as we are.

“I was really gonna be something by the age of 23.”

“Honey, all you have to be by the age of 23 is yourself.”

What makes these films great is that they address heavy subject matters all while finding time for humor that highlights the absurdity of growing up. This humor and humanity provide comfort and reassurance that we are not alone in our journeys. We can cherish the little moments while taking what is thrown at us in stride.

This list is far from complete when it comes to tackling a diverse range of emotions and experiences, and they can offer no concrete assurances for what lies ahead. For many, life after graduation is a horrifying, anxiety-riddled prospect, and our well-thought-out answer to “So what are your plans after college?” is never quite as cut and dry when put into practice. I do hope though that most readers on the precipice of a new journey can find solace (or at least little nuggets of wisdom) from at least one of these films. And if nothing else, you’ll at least have gotten to experience the genius of Simon & Garfunkel.

Image Courtesy of Universal Pictures

COLLECTION THE

REFLECTION

In this semester’s staff-curated playlist, we’re celebrating all that is reflection. The following is a collection of songs that make us think, evoke nostalgia, relive moments, and see things from new perspectives. Join Flat Hat Magazine staff in our trip down memory lane by scanning the code above.

Story by Flat Hat Magazine Staff Design

“Clean”

“Clean” has been by my side since the third grade. As the phenomenal album-closer that it is, this song is instantly reflective and forever nostalgic, continually reminding me that you can always punch a hole in your roof to wash away your problems.

“My Body is a Cage” by Arcade Fire

This song makes you reflect on yourself and what confines you in your life. It can be interpreted through many metaphorical lenses, which makes it interesting to see what each person takes from it — I appreciate the soft yet dramatic music for the listener to wander through.

“All

I only started listening to Noah Kahan this year, but he’s already helped me to see the good in the maybe-not-so-good. This song just gives me the “home from school and running into people you used to love being around but never talk to anymore” vibe. Big fan.

“Waterways” by Ludovico Einaudi

This is a new song to me but, after listening, I was so moved by the music that I choreographed a piece called “This is Water” to encompass the tranquility and beauty of water, a theme reflected in the melodies themselves.

–

“Big Bad Bill (Is Sweet William Now)” by Van Halen

When I was in elementary school, I made a bet with my dad over something that I have since forgotten. What I do remember is losing the bet and having to fulfill my end, which was to memorize this timeless Van Halen song — his favorite band to this day — and then sing it for him. This song will always get stuck in my head at the most inconvenient times.

“In My Life” by The Beatles

Perhaps The Beatles’ most sentimental song about life, love, and change, “In My Life” remembers “people and things that went before,” while celebrating new love in the refrain: “In my life, I love you more.” It’s the simultaneous nostalgia for the past and present that makes “In My Life” ever-resonant.

– Bailey Langhans ’26

– Emma Saunders ’24

Georgia Thoms ’23

– Mary Beth Bauermann ’24

My Love” by Noah Kahan

– Emelia Marshall ’25

by JR Herman ‘24

by Taylor Swift

– Audrey Gunnlaugsson ’26

“Long

“Long Lost” brings up so many emotions for me, as it was a recommendation from my little brother during a time when we were both struggling. Hearing it now makes me reflect both on the power of perseverance and the absolute glory of coming back to yourself.

– Marion Biondi ’24

“Hey There Delilah” by Plain White T’s

“Hey There Delilah” has enchanted me for 14 years now. A love song so simple, yet intimate. So midaughts, yet timeless. So sincere, yet staged — the real Delilah was just some girl who turned him down for a date. If you want to feel old, she’s 40 and married to another man.

“Self”

“Self” simultaneously makes me reflect on how much I’ve overcome and pushes me to continue growing. When Khalid sings “So I’ve been making changes / Been workin’ on my health / No more competition / Can’t compete against myself,” I remember to protect my energy and stay focused on achieving my goals and loving myself.

– Vivian Hoang ’24

Over

There are few things more comforting to hear than someone saying that they’ll stick by you when you’re at your worst. This song has stayed with me over the years through its simplistic yet powerful storytelling of love and friendship.

– Rebecca Altman ’25

“Difficult” by Gracie Abrams

Revealing her vulnerability through a catchy chorus with lyrics that will hit you like a ton of bricks, it feels like Gracie Abrams understands my innermost thoughts and feelings. This song prompts me to reflect on transitioning into adulthood, and it has quickly become one of my favorites despite its recent release.

– Grace Rivera ’26

“mirrorball” by Taylor Swift

“mirrorball” embodies the feeling of having so many different sides of yourself that you want to reveal while also not having the confidence — which everyone else seems to have — needed to do so. I relate to the feeling of having to try to constantly please everyone.

– Nevaeh Galluccio ’26

“Movin’ Out” by Billy Joel

Besides having a melody that will stick in your head for days, “Movin’ Out” encompasses the internal conflict of a man named Anthony as he questions what his hard work and money are really worth.

“Yellow” by Coldplay

I have listened to “Yellow” for years, especially when I miss someone in my life. There is just something about it that captures wanting to make someone you love proud and show how much they mean(t) to you.

“The Lucky One” by Taylor Swift

This song has always been one of my favorites. It has a soft tempo and reminds us of a valuable lesson — being in a position that others admire isn’t always as glamorous as it seems.

“Cello Concerto in E Minor” by Edward Elgar

This is the song that made me understand what passion meant. Each note is fiery, almost combustible, and brimming with tension. Playing it always feels like a matter of life and death. Even without words, the piece somehow elicits my most extreme emotions. It’s what made me want to be a cellist.

Lost” by Lord Huron

by Khalid

“Bridge

Troubled Water” by Simon & Garfunkel Sweater

– Inaya Mir ’25

– Arianna Stewart ’24

– Ranjani Krishnan ’25

– JR Herman ’24

– Andrew Johnston ’25

Back from the DeaD: the origins of

RE-EMERGING FASHION TRENDS

In a world of fast fashion and social media, it can be difficult to keep track of the latest trends. What is even harder to understand is why “old” trends are reemerging. Join Ava Edwards ’26 as she examines why corsets, tracksuits, bell bottoms, and more are back — at least for now.

Story by Ava Edwards ’26

Graphic by Isabel Li ‘25

Design by Katie Fitzgerald ‘26

During the peak of COVID-19, Generation Z gained a newfound love for the corset, a fashion that fell out of style during the early 20th century. Styles from the ’60s and ’70s have also re-emerged in the form of bold, printed patterns and flared bell bottoms. Tracksuits and tie-dye are back too.

The return of vintage can occur on an individual level as children and grandchildren inherit clothes or thrift; this return can also occur on a societal level when well-known designers feature vintage pieces on the runway or red carpet, catapulting a style back to the forefront of fashion. And sometimes, old styles re-emerge from the dead with seemingly little explanation.

While fashion comebacks depend on numerous economic, social, and political factors, the simplest explanation is that fashion is cyclical — whether it’s a small accessory like the scrunchie or an entire movement like the return of the Y2K aesthetic, many trends cycle through popularity every 20 years, helping explain why many of the styles popular in 2003 are currently making a comeback. This is especially apparent when considering that, according to The Zoe Report, “velour

tracksuits were up [in popularity] 41% from 2019.” Tracksuits were a staple in the early 2000s, with celebrities like Paris Hilton and Britney Spears often sporting these luscious looks. To Gen Z, young children in the early 2000s, tracksuits appear new, allowing the industry to reintroduce them and turn a profit.

Another explanation for the recycling of fashion that characterizes the industry is nostalgia — right now, millennial nostalgia. Recent studies have even suggested that millennials may be the most nostalgic generation to date, and this desire to return to simpler times affects the fashion industry, not only in terms of keeping up with millennial demand but also in that many from this generation now hold prominent positions in the design and fashion worlds.

Not only millennials are influencing the fashion industry: Gen Z is also dictating trends. An article from The Guardian argues that, due to COVID-19 and the climate crisis, Gen Z, particularly those ages 18-24, have turned to a “buy less, buy better” approach to shopping, rejecting the unsustainable, traditional apparel shopping habits of the past. In short, Gen Z’s fashion preferences may have been “shaped

by the ‘Blue Planet effect,’” which, in turn, affects the fashion industry as brands try to meet this demand for sustainable clothing.

Thrifting — an alternative to name-brand stores — has also become a popular trend. According to the Royal Society for the Encouragement of Arts, Manufacturers and Commerce, “28% of people are recycling or reusing more clothes than normal and 35% of women intend to buy fewer clothes in the future,” thanks in part to Gen Z’s influence. Thrifting reintroduces old fashions to the populace as people donate (and others buy) their old clothes, allowing outdated styles to make a comeback among younger generations of consumers.

Other social factors affect the popularity of certain styles. For example, during the Civil Rights era, t-shirts sporting important figures or movement names were popular, and those who attended protests had shirts and other memorabilia made especially for the occasion — buttons too were popular items to hand out to support the protests. After the murder of George Floyd at the hands of police in 2020, Black Lives Matter staged protests nationwide. Many who participated in these protests wore solid black t-shirts, hats, buttons, and other articles of clothing with the BLM slogan. This political movement — much like the

ones of the ’60s — also impacted the fashion landscape, with clothing brands rushing to meet the demand for Black Lives Matter merchandise, not only as a way to express their support for the movement but also to turn a profit.

Trends repeat over history. Given the influence of social media, trends are flitting in and out of existence at a dizzying rate, perhaps faster than ever, making predicting upcoming trends even more difficult. There does seem to be one guarantee, though — old styles always come back in style, at least in some form.

Y 2 K

Vision by Carson Belmear ’25

JR Herman ’24

Inaya Mir ’25

Style and Production by Carson Belmear ’25

Inaya Mir ’25

Sharon Sandler ’25

Makeup by Emily Han ’25

Modeled by Isaiah Nunez ’23, Georgia Thoms ’23

Hazel Vineet ’25

Photos by Zachary Lutzky ’24

Design by Katie Fitzgerald ‘26

As part of our “Reflection” theme, we wanted to take a closer look at the increasingly popular return of Y2K fashion. As if we’ve traveled back in time to the early 2000s, our daily wardrobes are populated with low-rise jeans, tracksuits, tiny sunglasses, chunky shoes, and more. We wanted to capture current interpretations of Y2K style by Gen Z in this photoshoot, so we incorporated iconic cultural staples, including the Burn Book from Mean Girls, a flip phone, and a Juicy Couture purse. Because Y2K is not solely an American or Western tradition, we wanted to portray cultural diversity in our representation of Y2K and thus incorporated jhumka earrings as a way to recognize the presence of heritage and tradition in an individual’s style — mainstream media often westernizes Y2K fashion, erasing the multicultural backgrounds of the individuals wearing these clothes. The bright colors, funky patterns, and blast-from-thepast outfits that we pieced together served as a fun way of depicting an aesthetic that is both modern and nostalgic, reflecting the evolution of fashion trends and culture.

Inaya Mir ’25

Flat Hat Magazine Style Director

Meet

the Wagsters

Meet Brandon and Hannah Wagster, the husbandand-wife team working to make Williamsburg magical. Together, they own the Wagsters Magic Theatre — Williamsburg’s one and only magic venue on Olde Town Road — that has captivated thousands since it opened in June 2022. Continue reading to learn about the Wagsters’ journey to magic, Williamsburg, and each other.

Story and Design by JR Herman ‘24

Brandon and Hannah Wagster are a dynamic duo, both on stage and behind the scenes. Together they own the Wagsters Magic Theatre in Williamsburg, VA., just a few minutes off Richmond Road. Since they opened their 67-seat theater in June 2022, over 7,500 guests have walked through their doors.

Opening the theater was a dream 25 years in the making, set in motion the morning Brandon received his first magic kit at the age of six.

“That kind of sent everything spiraling — in a good way,” Brandon explained.

Brandon grew up drawing pictures of what he wanted his future theater to look like, bought equipment with the money he made doing commercials here and there, and, by age 11, had performed in his first birthday show.

Hannah, on the other hand, hated magic growing up because of a show gone wrong. However, all it took to change this aversion forever was “a cute magician.”

“If I could look back at young me and be like, ‘You’re going to be a professional magician one day,’ I would sincerely laugh,” Hannah said. “I would have never thought I’d be onstage, and I hated magic ... But it’s been the best thing ever.”

Hannah recalled that before she and Brandon started dating, she would often see Brandon performing at parties, but since she wasn’t a magic fan, she would go outside to avoid the show. Later on, Hannah’s best friend fell in love with Brandon and dragged Hannah along to his shows. Hannah remembered talking to him after one show and him snubbing her. While Hannah’s friend and Brandon didn’t work out, Brandon and Hannah did.

“It’s okay, I still chased you down,” Hannah teased her husband. “It worked, obviously, because ... November will be 14 years.”

The couple also recently celebrated ten years of marriage, renewing their vows in front of Hogwarts Castle at Universal Studios.

Two months after they started dating, Brandon fired his two assistants. Hannah, seeing performing with him as a way to spend more time together, begged to be his new assistant. Brandon, on the other hand, initially refused, fearing that it would be a recipe for disaster if they ever broke up (which, as Hannah recalls, they did at one point — for six months — but they performed through it, reconciled, and grew stronger than before).

Brandon and Hannah estimate that they have performed anywhere between 1,500 and 2,000 shows together since Hannah first became Brandon’s assistant in March 2010.

The weekend after Hannah graduated high school, they moved together to Myrtle Beach, S.C. to perform together, and they were there for almost ten years until the COVID-19 pandemic hit. March 16th, 2020 was their last performance at The Carolina Opry, where they’d worked for almost six years.

“I looked at her, and I still don’t know why I said it, but I just came off stage and looked at her and said, ‘I think that was the last time we’re ever going to perform on this stage,’” Brandon recalled.

The next day, they were notified that the city was shutting down and that their show was canceled, a blessing in disguise — the lockdown gave them the time to consider the next chapter in their lives. After an eight-hour-long Zoom call with friends who owned a theater, Hannah and Brandon decided to sell their house and open their own.

Brandon recalled that before the Zoom call, he had been watching “The Imagineering Story,” a documentary series detailing the journey of Walt Disney, one of his biggest heroes.

“They talked about how Walt sold one of his homes to get the park open,” Brandon explained. “He cashed out life insurance policies. He borrowed money. He sold stock in it to employees. He did everything he could to get this park open. And with that kind of

lingering in my mind, I looked at Hannah. I knew what our house was going to sell for ... I was like, we could do this.”

The Wagsters originally planned to open their theater in Myrtle Beach and were getting ready to sign a lease on a building when Brandon got a gut feeling that something was wrong. They pulled out of the deal at the last minute.

“It felt like everything went up in flames,” Hannah recalled. At that point, they had already sold their house and were living in a detached garage without heating or air conditioning, and they were working odd jobs to make ends meet. Hannah recalled working as a nanny, barista, baker, and travel agent during that time.

They knew that these odd jobs were not what they were meant to be doing, so they desperately reached out to a friend who suggested they try working at Busch Gardens. They automatically assumed she was talking about Busch Gardens Tampa, but they didn’t want to go back to Florida, they said. They’d spent enough time there performing after the shutdowns ended.

“Busch Gardens Williamsburg,” their friend replied.

“Where’s that?” Hannah asked.

The Wagsters decided to give Williamsburg, Va. a shot. After some research, they realized Williamsburg not only was a tourist town with plenty to do but also had no live theater competition. They decided to check out the area,

and as soon as they arrived, they fell in love with the town and the community and decided to move to Williamsburg. None of the buildings they had scouted would work as a theater, so they decided they’d search for a building when they went back to South Carolina.

Before they went home, though, Brandon made one last ditch effort — googling old church buildings in the area. They found one and met with the owner, who asked them what they wanted to do with it.

“We told her, we want to open a magic theater,” Brandon recalled. “And she gave us the same look and response that almost everybody did at first: ‘Huh…that’s interesting.’”

She told the Wagsters that she would ask around and see if people thought a magic theater would be a good fit for the area.

“She told us that she talked to a lot of people, and they said, ‘Yes,’” Hannah recalled. “She just told us last week that every single person told her she was crazy, and we’re like, ‘You did not tell us that.’”

But she wanted to give them a chance.

“She said when she and her husband were really young, if there hadn’t been someone who had given them a chance, they would have never done what they did, and so she was like, ‘I just wanted to return the favor,’” Hannah explained. “We’re extremely grateful to our landlady because if it hadn’t been for her, we would not be here.”

The timing was almost magical. The day they booked their Airbnb to visit Williamsburg for the first time was the same day the church had handed in the keys to the building that is now their theater. And the day they moved to Williamsburg — March 16th — was the same day their non-compete agreement in Myrtle Beach expired. 316 also happens to be their apartment number.

Despite finding the perfect building, their journey was far from over. The Wagsters recall working 80 hours a week for three months while preparing for their opening, all the while living in the theater because they couldn’t find an apartment. Because the building didn’t have full bathrooms, they had to shower at the YMCA, which was a humbling experience. When they finally opened, they immediately launched into a rigorous schedule of shows six days a week.

“It was a chaotic season of our life,” Hannah recalled. “I don’t think we could do it again now because I don’t have the energy for it. But it was worth it to get where we are.”

“That was a time where we were not growing closer together,” Brandon laughed.

Once they got into their flow and opened the doors on June 17th, 2022, they knew they were where they needed to be.

the role that he’s always wanted to have has just been a really cool experience.”

And no two shows are the same.

“[People] ask us, how often do you change the show?” Brandon said. “And, you know, it’s never going to be the same show because you never know what somebody is going to say, what they’re going to do, what comment’s going to happen.”

This unpredictability can lead to distracting and, sometimes, even shocking responses from the audience.

“I hand the balloon [to the boy], and I was like, ‘Ever seen a clown take these balloons and make them into animals? Cool, go find a clown,’” Brandon said. “I hand the kid the balloon, and he looks out into the audience and goes ‘Dad?’”

In addition to the spontaneity, the small, intimate size of the performance space keeps them on their toes. According to Hannah, downsizing has been the “hardest transition” for them — they were accustomed to a 1,600-seat theater where people were too far away to interact with.

“We can hear every single thing that people do, whether or not they realize it,” she said, something which can be distracting and make it more difficult for them to remember their lines.

But being able to more closely interact with a smaller audience is worth it in the end because, as Brandon said, “most people only ever get to see these big illusions from really far away.”

Though performing together has brought them closer, it can also be stressful at times, especially when things go wrong during a live performance.

“Our first show here was super emotional,” Hannah said. “I cried my makeup off like seven times.”

Brandon recalled thinking, “We did it. We made it.”

Not only was Brandon finally where he wanted to be, but so was Hannah.

“While [a magic theater] wasn’t my dream originally, it merged, and it became my dream too,” Hannah said. “But just getting to watch [Brandon] step into

“Working backstage is stressful,” Brandon explained. “In live entertainment, there are a hundred different things that can go wrong at any given moment. Then you put a magic trick into it, and a thousand things can go wrong at any given moment.”

“There was one night where I knocked [Brandon] off the box, [then] I fell off the box,” Hannah recalled.

Hannah once even twisted her ankle but kept going as if nothing had happened, and the audience, like usual, was none the wiser.

“It was one of those things where Brandon and I were still covering the trick because even when something goes wrong, we’re still trying to protect the magic,” Hannah explained.

Although they love performing, it can be draining, both physically and mentally, especially for Hannah, who, unlike Brandon, is an introvert.

“Hannah Lynne on stage and Hannah Wagster offstage are two very different people. I love them both,” Brandon said.

“We are at a point in our relationship, and honestly, have been for a long time, where we can separate the ‘performing couple us’ versus ‘offstage us,’” Hannah said. “We can be fighting offstage about something trivial, but then we get onstage, and you would never know that because we know our roles, and we would never sabotage the magic.”

The worst fights they get in tend to be over new illusions, which Hannah joked is a good sign for their relationship.

“I want a certain song; she doesn’t,” Brandon explained. “I want her to do this choreography. She wants me to wear that. I want to say this joke. She doesn’t think I should say that joke.”

The Wagsters are constantly updating their magic to keep it fresh and alive — they see stagnation as artistic death.

“We outgrow our magic because we create it in a younger mindset and creative space, and we just age out of it,” Hannah explained. “It just doesn’t perform the same way.”

For the Wagsters, a show is more than just that— it’s a chance to take their audience on a journey.

“I want [people] to let go of their problems from the moment that curtain opens to the moment it closes,” Brandon said. “I want them to forget about their life. I want them to shut off their phone. Disconnect from technology. Enter into our world for a little bit.”

For one hour, the Wagsters’ audience can do just that: enter a world of magic and wonder, where anything is possible. Brandon, though, wants that feeling to last longer than the fall of the curtain.

“I want them to hear our story on stage and

leave knowing that that crazy dream or hope that they have for their life, that they can do that too, that it’s not unreachable, it’s not unattainable,” Brandon said.

With that being said, they feel it’s important to recognize the sacrifice needed to make that “crazy dream” a reality.

“I don’t think people realize the sacrifice that goes with it sometimes,” Hannah said. “It’s hard, but you have to make those sacrifices now so that you can reap the rewards later. Sometimes, you gotta push through tough seasons.”

Sacrifice wasn’t only driving an old car and foregoing expensive vacations and new clothes, Brandon explained.

“For Hannah and I, [sacrifice] was eating ramen noodles, hot dogs, rice and beans, living in a garage apartment, living here in the theater, selling our house, walking away from our glamorous jobs to do what we had to do.”

For them, though, it has been worth it.

“You’ve got to be willing to sacrifice a little bit,” Brandon said. “And how long?”

“That’s up to you,” Hannah answered. “How bad do you want your dream?”

The Wagsters’ dream took years to become a reality, but now, they’re where they want to be. Their theater was recently nominated for six categories in Coastal Virginia Magazine’s “Best of Readers’ Choice Awards”: Best Nightlife, Best Performing Arts Venue, Best New Business, Best Family Friendly Attraction/Activity, Best Local Attraction, and Best Place to Take Out-of-Towners. Their newest show, “Finding Magic,” which launched March 3, 2023, is bigger and better than ever after a $20,000 upgrade in illusions, lighting, and tech equipment.

Book your tickets to the Wagsters Magic Theatre and experience the Wagsters’ magic for yourself.

Images Courtesy of the Wagsters

WILLIAM &

Story by Portia Dai ‘26

Graphic by Syeda Safdar ‘25

Design by Marion Biondi ‘24

The College of William and Mary boasts the prestigious reputation of being a “public Ivy” and the “Alma Mater of the Nation.” The College, though, is also the alma mater of thousands of alumni from across the globe, as well as a current home away from home for hundreds of international students, of which there were 567 on campus during the 2021-2022 year.

Hedda Gurholt ’25, an international student from Norway majoring in Finance and minoring in Philosophy, found the College through an internet search.

“Colleges in America are not that well known in Norway,” Gurholt said. “I think that most people probably haven’t heard of the school unless they work in academia.”

Executive Director of the Reves Center for International Studies and Associate Provost for International Affairs Teresa Longo explained that the Reves Center itself does not formally recruit international students. As Executive Director, Longo provides resources for the College’s five schools to distribute to international programs and requests that administrators at these schools visit international schools abroad that the Center hopes to impact. Longo also oversees the “internationalization” of the College campus and supervises global education, engagement, and programs.

In addition to the Reves Center acting as a connector for global partners, much of the Center’s work is based on its goal to “internationalize the campus,” as Eva Wong, Director of International Students, Scholars, and Programs (ISSP), explained.

ISSP works to ensure that international students’ transition into a new space is seamless.

“How can we make things easy?” Wong said, describing the goal of the Reves Center during the process of transition. “How can we remove barriers and, in turn, then expand opportunities for as many international students who are interested in coming to William and Mary to be able to come to William and Mary?”

Making “things easy” starts with providing information to prospective students about immigration and visa applications — post-acceptance, students are connected with the ISSP office and participate in international student orientation, which not only provides incoming students with information about visa applications but also other travel considerations, like which airports to use.

The Office of Undergraduate Admissions also holds virtual panels where incoming international students can meet current international students and learn what to expect before even stepping foot on campus — this process happens over the summer, during which students are also connected with peer leaders who help make the transition from abroad to the College smoother.

Support from ISSP continues post-arrival as students purchase SIM cards, open bank accounts, and buy bedding and toiletries.

MARY overseas

The program also hosts welcome socials as well as trips to destinations like Virginia Beach to give students a chance to connect with their peers. These social opportunities are a key aspect of making international students feel welcome, especially when their home cultures differ from that of the United States.

Gurholt explained some of the cultural differences she has noticed between the U.S. and Norway.

“In Norway, we tend to eat more seafood and have a more traditional, home-cooked approach to meals,” Gurtholt said. “The United States has a more fast-food culture. Also, in Norway, people tend to be more reserved and introverted compared to the United States. I have noticed that there are more types of everything in the U.S. — more types of food, clothes, schools, etc. I also feel like people are more welcoming in the U.S. People seem more outgoing and positive here. I have noticed that participation is more valued in the U.S. than in Norway.”

Not only is the culture between the countries different but so is the way universities are structured.

“The campuses are really different,” Gurtholt continued. “Universities in Norway are… not as big as here. In Norway, students don’t live on campus, and the campus is almost just the school itself and not everything around. Also, we have a different school system, where students only take classes related to their major. For instance, if you are an Econ major, you only take Econ classes.”

Candice Xu ’26, an international student from China who came to the College to study Neuroscience and Computer Science on the pre-medicine track, also commented that Chinese university students only take classes in their chosen majors.

“They cannot choose their classes,” Xu said. “They are all the same classes for the freshmen and sophomores. In junior year, they kind of can choose their class[es].”

Xu has also noticed that America has a more informal, casual culture than China.

“People here are more relaxed than [in] China,” Xu said. “There, the people have a lot of things to do, and they don’t have time to just stand [t]here and communicate with you. [Here] you can talk to a lot of strangers on the street, but in China, this just can’t happen.”

Xu also explained that students in the U.S. dress more comfortably and less formally than their counterparts in China.

Linh Huynh ’25, an international student from Vietnam and Finance major at the College, observed that this laid-back culture creates more intimate, friendly relationships, even between those who would traditionally share an imbalanced power dynamic.

“In classes back home, there is always a distance between professors and students,” Huynh said. “But here, I don’t see that much. I feel like professors can have a casual conversation with students.”

Besides commenting on cultural differences, Gurholt, Huynh, and Xu also shared what first brought them to the College.

Gurholt chose the College because she wanted to “go somewhere far from home and get a completely new experience.”

“I really like the historical aspect of the school,” Gurholt said. “I thought the campus was super pretty and that the school was very interesting.”

Huynh was also captivated by the historical charm of the College.

“My first impression when I step[ped] on this campus [was] like, ‘Yeah, it’s very colonial,” Huynh said, adding that it felt like she had “step[ped] back in time.”

Out of the schools Huynh applied to, the College stuck out to her because of its small size. Xu was drawn to the College because of its quality of undergraduate education, good professors, and, like Huynh, small campus size. Both Huynh and Xu were encouraged to apply to the College by their college counselors.

Xu, Huynh, and Gurholt are part of the international student community that makes up 6% of the College’s student population, but international travel is a two-way street. In addition to transitioning international students to the College, the Reves Center’s work also encompasses sending students abroad, with over 750 students choosing to study abroad annually. It is through these two avenues that the Reves Center brings the College’s “internationalization” full circle.

“We also send students out into the world from William and Mary through a lot of different ways, but largely through study abroad,” Longo said. “So, when students are out in the world to study abroad, they also meet people from the places they visit. And that’s how there’s a kind of an exchange of companionship, understanding, empathy, knowledge — all of that. It’s all connected. Yes, they’re going out, they’re coming in. The ideas, the questions. None of those items exist alone. We have to be doing all of that. All of the pieces together.”

Images Courtesy of Linh Huynh & Candice Xu

G l obalCrocheter

Story by Georgia Thoms ‘23

Design by Katie Fitzgerald ‘26

Coffee in hand, Georgia Thoms ’23 sat down with student entrepreneur Celeste Phillips ’24, owner of The Crochet Chameleon, a small business that sells crochet plushies and patterns. The quiet chatter of students in Earl Gregg Swem Library provided the backdrop to Phillips’ story about her business journey from small-time seller to friends and family to business owner of a popular Etsy store with over 33,000 Instagram followers and 2,600 sales. This conversation has been edited for concision and clarity.

Georgia Thoms: Your company’s name is The Crochet Chameleon. What’s the inspiration behind that?

Celeste Phillips: The first plushie I ever designed was a chameleon. I really liked chameleons at the time, and I still do. I would never sell that pattern because it’s kind of janky, but it was the first thing I designed. I remember I wanted my business name to be alliterative, so for me, The Crochet Chameleon was perfect.

GT: How would you describe yourself and your company?

CP: I like to think of myself as making cute plushies to make other people happy, as well as patterns that people can use to make plushies themselves, to spread the love and spread the joy of making something, whether it’s for you or to give to somebody else. And then you experience that joy of somebody having something you made; I just think it’s a nice experience to share. It’s nice to support small businesses and buy handmade things, instead of just something off Amazon.

GT: How long have you been crocheting?

CP: My grandma taught me ages ago when I was probably in middle school, but I didn’t really pick it up much then because I was a middle schooler. During my freshman year in high school, I definitely was crocheting — it’s funny because you look back at the things you were

making then, and they’re kind of ugly, but yeah, I just kept at it. I sold some things in person at a craft show once. I guess that was the first spark that made me think, “Oh, I can make a business out of this.”

GT: Why did you choose crocheting?

CP: I love how with crochet — with plushies especially — when you’re making something soft and squishy, it just makes people happy. It’s a nice break, and it’s nice to see progress as you go. Then, when I post my plushies on Instagram, it’s nice to get positive responses from other people.

GT: When did you start your business?

CP: December 2020 — I had my twoyear anniversary over winter break. Once I got here [the College of William and Mary] for freshman year, when it was still locked down, I was crocheting and just enjoying myself. But I decided to take the plunge over that winter break and really get into it, and I’m glad I did.

GT: So, tell me the steps in creating your business. What did you have to think of beforehand?

CP: At the time, I didn’t have any banking stuff set up — I had to get a bank account just to be able to have a business because I started my shop on Etsy, and you have to be able to give them bank info. You also have to think about how you’re going to

package and ship your things. And I had to make an Instagram because that’s how you get people to know about you.

GT: How do you implement shipping costs into your business?

CP: Some people offer free shipping because, obviously with places like Amazon, everybody wants free shipping. But I was looking at that for a bit, and I just found it challenging because if you want to do free shipping, you have to spread out the cost of shipping between your different items, right? And then if you have smaller things, it’s harder to incorporate that in. One time somebody in Italy bought a bunch of my plushies, and they paid almost $100 in shipping — I was like, “I am obsessed with you for loving my stuff so much that you paid that much for shipping.”

GT: So you ship internationally; that means you must have a really large customer base!

CP: I’ve done Italy, Singapore, Germany, and Canada. That’s because I sell not only physical plushies but also patterns, which are digital instructions to crochet your own things.

GT: Do you make the patterns yourself, and how do you gain inspiration for that?

CP: Junior year of high school is when I started designing my own patterns. I wanted to challenge myself, and I’ve probably designed maybe 20 patterns at this point, but I only sell nine of them. Once you crochet for long enough, you get a sense of the different shapes and the ways that you can manipulate the stitches to make things look the way you want them to look. Eventually, I like to get my patterns tested, so on Instagram, I call for a bunch of people to try out my pattern to see if it makes sense to them too. They provide feedback and then I like to make it all pretty in a PDF to market it a little, and I post it to see how it goes.

GT: Can you describe for me the feeling of making your first sale?

CP: Well, my first sale technically was to one of my friend’s sisters, so I was like, ‘Okay.’ But the second sale, I was like, ‘Wow, it’s cool that somebody wants to buy something that I made.’ Especially on Etsy — they thought it was cute enough to want to buy it, and they thought it was a reasonable price with reasonable shipping. It’s nice to see somebody want to invest in you. It

still gets me excited when I do plushie restocks — I’ll usually have a couple of things that sell immediately. It just makes me really happy that somebody was waiting.

GT: You have a huge Instagram following. How did you start to market yourself and gain so many followers?

CP: The way I got most of my followers was probably through reels that went viral. I had a strawberry turtle plushie reel that got 180,000 views, and then my cow plushies were — and still are — very popular. I had a cow reel that got like 212,000 views. I’ve also gotten followers from giveaways and tester calls for patterns — I got a ton of growth from that. It’s nice just to see that so many people care and are interested.

GT: That’s amazing. What is it like being one crochet account among so many others? Do you feel the competition or anything like that?

CP: No, I don’t think it’s competitive at all — we’re all very supportive and collaborative. I love seeing what other people are doing. We all love helping and sharing other people’s posts on our stories. Honestly, everybody’s just making their own stuff, and it’s all different.

GT: How has your business grown since the first time that you sold on Etsy?

CP: Well, it was very slow at first — I think I got, like, nine sales. But again, I also didn’t have a ton of stuff up. Then over the summer, I designed a pattern, and that started gaining some traction. But what really got things going was when I designed the turtle pattern — I think it’s probably my most sold pattern ever. I posted a reel of the turtle with the “Backyardigans” music that was viral at the time. I think at the end of 2021 I was at 300 sales, and I’m at around 2,400 now. But, you know, I’m just trying to enjoy it.

GT: Has balancing your company with school been difficult?

CP: It hasn’t been too difficult. While I’m at school I try to still be active on Instagram, like posting to my story, and then whenever I do make a plushie, I make a post about it, but it’s not as often as I would like it to be. But that’s okay because it’s okay to kind of go dormant — taking care of yourself is important. I’m in a good spot right now with not overdoing it and just doing it when it feels fun.

If you’re interested in checking out The Crochet Chameleon, join Phillips’ 33,000 followers on Instagram @the_crochet_chameleon or view her popular Etsy store @thecrochetchameleon.

Images Courtesy of Celeste Phillips

Those who frequented the Commons Dining Hall last year will likely recall an unusual visitor who added a certain je ne sais quoi to their dining experience: the Caf Bird. The College of William and Mary prides itself on its principles of curiosity and creativity, perhaps why its students began to investigate the matter.

“Why is there a bird in the dining hall?”

Despite thorough and thoughtful postulations, all that could be deduced was that the affectionately named “Caf Bird” simply flew in one day, and subsequently failed to fly out.

It wasn’t long before Caf Bird was absorbed into the shared anthology of campus culture, making its rounds on YikYak and Instagram, including a cameo on @wm_dining_, a student-run Instagram account dedicated to “The Cuisine of William and Mary.” The account features in-the-wild photos of the worst of the worst of dining hall food — bugs in produce, undercooked meat, and of course, our beloved Caf Bird.

The College’s Cuisine :

a culinary

CONTRO

Apart from these platforms, students have shared opinions about the College’s food on websites like Reddit. Responses to questions from potential students about food at the College usually range from a recommendation of managed expectations to uncomplicated condemnation.

[Helloooo_ooooo_]: “not amazing but just fine”

[BCWarrior203]: “Food is definitely worse than other colleges, but I honestly like it some days”

[Jlin42]: “Food is not horrible, just don’t expect too much”

[FunCryptographer4761]: “Food is hell”

On-campus publications like the satire newspaper, The Botetourt Squat, have also featured William and Mary Dining as the subject of articles with titles like: “You Were Right: Sadler Dining Hall Has Been ‘Trying to Kill You This Whole Time,’” and “William and

Mary Dining Proud to Announce New Meat Alternative: Soylent Green.”

Outside of campus, parents flocked to Facebook to petition for a change in the “dismal quality of William & Mary’s dining services.” The petition included ideas for improvement and listed transparency as well as improvements to quality and variety among its concerns. It stated that because of the mandatory nature of an on-campus dining plan, “nutritious, palatable, safely prepared foods for students is a nonnegotiable obligation.” At the time this article was written, the petition stood at 1,640 signatures, which is around a quarter of the undergraduate population.

Has the food on campus improved?

“It’s a big ebb and flow,” Jonah Randall ’26 said. “When I first got here I was like, ‘Oh, this food isn’t that bad. People are being

VERSY

Story by Elizabeth Brady ‘25

Photos by Zachary Lutzky ‘24

Design by Andrew Johnston ‘24

dramatic.’ And then towards the middle of my first semester, I was like, ‘Oh, wait, now I get it.’”

Other students shared more of an optimistic outlook.

“I definitely wouldn’t say it’s gotten worse. I think it’s gotten better ... to a degree,” Kiley Smith ’25 said. “I do think they’ve tried. I just think there’s a lot more trying that needs to be done.”

There are also student advocacy groups on campus working with dining staff to enact meaningful change. The Veggie Society is a group on campus “for all students interested in plant-based eating and lifestyles.”

“Last semester we had a conversation with the food specialist ... it kind of worked for a bit, and I feel like they are getting better at it,” Veggie Society member Chloe Santos ’26 said.

Prior to the Fall 2022 semester, the College made some big changes to the food options present on campus, including closing the

Daily Grind, removing the Qdoba counter from Student Exchange, and replacing the Cosi in Lodge 1 with another Aromas Coffee Shop, now referred to by students as “Sadromas.”

“I guess they did surveys and things, so I guess that’s what people wanted,” Smith said. “But from everyone I’ve talked to, that’s not what we wanted.”

Indeed, the loss of such vital bastions of the College’s dining experience was felt deeply in the campus community and was reverently eulogized in a Fall 2022 Flat Hat Magazine article.

For some students, eating at on-campus dining halls is made more difficult due to dietary restrictions — students with allergies are limited by more than just preference.

“Mediterranean has a lot of sesame, and so that’s an issue,” Blake Austin ’26 said about the Mediterranean station in the Commons Dining Hall. For Austin, who has a variety of nut and seed allergies, these seemingly small culinary additions make

certain dining options inaccessible on campus. “Last semester, I got something out of the pastry case thing, and it sent me into full anaphylaxis,” Mari Anzola ’25 said. “I had to go to the ER.”

Meanwhile, improvement behind the scenes has been much more substantial. Because dining hall staff are subcontracted through Sodexo, they are excluded from the College’s Worker’s Union. However, on Oct. 24, 2022, the College’s Sodexo workers succeeded in creating a separate union. The movement was largely supported by students, with a rally held on Sept. 21 on the Sadler Terrace.

“I have a lot of respect for the dining hall workers — I’m a big supporter of their union,” Randall said.

Others acknowledged the lack of institutional support that dining hall staff receive.

“I don’t blame anything on them because they’ve been asked to do impossible tasks with not good systems in place to support them,” Smith said.

Interestingly enough, William and Mary Dining runs the gambit as far as rankings go. It was

recognized as one of the best dining halls in the nation in 2016, and it placed #49 on the top 50 college cafeterias while having a Crating on the college ranking site Niche.

So, the food is food. It’s maybe bad. It’s maybe getting better. But the fact remains that all undergraduate residential students are required to have an on-campus dining plan. We may change the world tomorrow, but today, we must eat.

Austin shared her strategy for eating at the College.

“I ‘ignorance is bliss’ it,” she said. “If I start looking for things that are icky, I’m going to see them.”

Perhaps William and Mary Dining can teach students a valuable lesson that they might not learn in the classroom: sometimes you’ve just gotta close your eyes and hope for the best. After all, there may be college campuses with more options, fresher fruit, and better-cooked meat, but there’s only one Caf Bird.

Fine, i’ll admit it: Trader HOE i’m a

It’s time. I’m finally owning up to my identity as a frequent shopper and supporter of Trader Joe’s — or, in more succinct terms, a “Trader Hoe.” Come with me as I both explore the nationally adored cultural mainstay that Trader Joe’s has become and feed into pernicious cycles of capitalism by offering my favorite, yet underrated, Trader Joe’s products that I believe you should try. However, test at your own risk: you too just might be initiated into the Trader Hoe army after a sample taste.

Story by Vivian Hoang ‘24

Photos by Zachary Lutzky ‘24

If there’s anything that TWAMPs and middleaged white women have in common, it’s their love for Trader Joe’s.

No matter how hard I’ve tried, I can’t quite put my finger on where exactly the allure of Trader Joe’s comes from. Perhaps it’s the way the store has a mom-and-pop, small business feel, despite being a multimillion-dollar grocery chain with locations across the United States. Maybe the answer lies in Trader Joe’s marketing — pretty much every store, from Food Lion to Target, creates its own line of cheaply priced items that knock-off brand-name goods, but Trader Joe’s has simply risen above with its hand-drawn labels, aesthetic packaging, and cleverly titled products (think Scandinavian Swimmers). Hmm, or could it

be the pretense of healthiness that shrouds every Trader Joe’s product? I can’t explain the Mandela Effect that’s at play here, but for some reason, Trader Joe’s has convinced me and everybody else I know that buying from Trader Joe’s is healthier than any other grocery equivalent. Oh, and let’s not forget the reputation that Trader Joe’s employees have earned for not only being notoriously kind and friendly but also insanely sexy (cue the memes).

Either way, I got caught in the clutches of Trader Joe’s during freshman year when the most exciting thing my roommate and I could do was take the bus to New Town and raid the store for snacks to bolster our meager dining hall diets. Now being in the “Trader Joe’s Meal Ideas

for Busy People” Facebook group, with nearly 650,000 other members who regularly post about their latest Trader Joe’s finds and reviews, I’ve come to learn that I’m not alone in my affinity for the beloved grocery chain.

However, the massive Facebook group also reminds me of how many other, more dedicated Trader Joe’s loyalists there are out there. So before the hordes of Trader Hoes come charging at me with their Ultimate Spoons (if you know, you know), I do want to establish some muchneeded disclaimers — I do not claim to be the biggest fan of Trader Joe’s to ever live; Trader Joe’s is not my primary grocery store of choice; and I am in no way commercially affiliated with Trader Joe’s. In fact, I generally prefer Aldi

over Trader Joe’s because Trader Joe’s has a niche product selection and lacks widespread accessibility with its higher prices, especially when it comes to staple goods like fresh produce, pasta, or meats. Trader Joe’s is simply a supplement to my weekly grocery shopping, my go-to place for snacks, frozen meals, and miscellaneous guilty pleasures.

But I still find myself qualified to write this piece because I do harbor a deep adoration for the grocery chain, make weekly stops there, and have sampled an abundance of its snacks and meals. Because I’ve tried so many Trader Joe’s products, let me offer you my Trader Hoecertified recommendations for the best things you should try at Trader Joe’s.

This snack is by far my favorite from Trader Joe’s, which is why I collapse into deep despair whenever it’s randomly missing from the shelves and I have to spend a week orangeless. If you enjoy dried mangoes, you’re already a person with taste and well on your way to becoming a fruit connoisseur. But you won’t ascend to your full fruit potential until you’ve tried dried mandarins, which are even BETTER. Coated in sugar, they’re sweet. Yet they’re a fruit, so they have to be healthy (please don’t tell me they’re not — I’ve consumed too many at this point). Every bite is a fragrant, pleasant delight that leaves me wanting more and more and more until ... wait ... they’re all gone! :(

My toxic trait, you ask? It’s being chronically late to EVERYTHING. That’s why Trader Joe’s frozen rendition of one of my favorite Indian meals has been my lifesaver when I need a quick meal to take to class, am already running five minutes late, and don’t have time to cook or even pack myself leftovers (yeah, it’s that bad). All you have to do is heat up the compostable dish for three minutes (or sometimes a little longer to get the chicken softer), let it sit for another minute, and voilà! You’ve got yourself a pretty respectable chicken tikka masala that, in my opinion, holds its own against restaurant versions of the same dish. The chunks of chicken, doused in an orange-colored cream sauce, have a kick of spice, but it’s quickly muted when you take a bite of the basmati rice included with the meal, so it’s nothing that even the faintest of hearts couldn’t handle. Judging by the sheer amount of these frozen dinners I’ve had — probably over 50 during my undergraduate career — I can’t get enough of them, and neither will you once you try them.

Dried Mandarins

Chicken Tikka Masala

Umami Furikake

The perfect complement to rice, furikake adds just a kick of salt, extra crunch, and new texture to an otherwise unexciting grain. While I could technically eat rice on its own, I would probably struggle and think to myself, “What is this sad life I am leading?” But furikake gives me the confidence that I can indeed live like my ancestors and eat just plain rice. However, if you do want to eat your rice paired with a protein, furikake is a great last-minute addition to bring out the missing flavor profile that comes with accidentally under-seasoning your meats. And because Williamsburg, unfortunately, doesn’t have any Asian or international supermarkets, I always appreciate that Trader Joe’s carries this product, connecting some of us back to our cultures and introducing others to new flavors.

I’m A Trader

Columbus Craft Meats Seasoned Roast Beef

If the student body is known for one thing at the College of William and Mary, it’s our quirks. Hell, even the initial undergraduate application to go here inquires about your quirks, assessing if you’re weird enough to walk these historic grounds for four years. My quirk happens to be that I love eating roast beef — and no, not on sandwiches — from Trader Joe’s as a snack. Yeah, you heard me right: one of my biggest guilty pleasures is eating pre-cooked deli meat straight from the package as a light snack between meals. Raised to be a carnivore, I’ve had this culinary quirk since childhood, and I encourage you to try it, too. I’ve been quite picky with my roast beef since Costco tragically discontinued my favorite kind, so it’s high praise from me when I say the Columbus roast beef is my new go-to. However, I will add that $6.49 for a small quantity of sliced beef that one could theoretically mow through in one (hungry) sitting is quite expensive. But if you have spare money one week and want to treat yourself to a luxurious meat treat, perhaps roast beef could be your unlikely answer.

Gummy Tummies: Penguins with Soft Tummies

A gummy tummy is just what it sounds like: a gummy penguin with a fruity liquid filling in its rotund tummy. Biting into one of these babies produces a literal outpouring of either cherry, lime, or strawberry gummy juice that coats your tongue in a feeling of pure bliss that quickly replaces the shame and guilt of beheading an adorable, innocent penguin. Because gummy tummies are candy, they are undoubtedly sweet, but I never found the artificial juices to be off-putting or overpowering. The gummy is soft and easy to chew, and there’s a perfect balance of gummy and liquid tummy so that one complements the other. Plus, they’re visually so cute. What’s not to love?

Dark Chocolate Bark with Almond, Pretzel, and Sea Salt

One of my go-to snacks has always been pretzel or almond barkTHINS, so I was very excited to find that Trader Joe’s finally created a dupe — and not only that, but the Trader Joe’s version also combined both of my favorite flavors of barkTHINS into one. I felt like I hit the jackpot bringing these home just a couple of months ago. And my expectations were delightfully met: the Trader Joe’s dark chocolate bark was much smoother and less clumpy than its brand-name equivalent, and the chocolate tasted much more decadent, to the point where I even questioned if milk chocolate, rather than dark, was being used. I also felt satiated with only a few pieces of bark, so one bag can really go a long way; it’s perfect for indulging momentary sweet-tooth cravings in a healthier way.

Raspberry Hearts

These heart-shaped, raspberry jam-filled shortbread cookies have truly stolen my heart. I picked these up on a whim this past February because they reminded me of the Pepperidge Farm Verona Strawberry Thumbprint cookies I devoured all the time as a kid. Honestly, I got them more for their aesthetic and Valentine’s novelty; I didn’t expect to enjoy the cookies that much because I’m usually not a fan of raspberry-flavored items. But to my pleasant surprise, the raspberry jam was very sweet rather than bitter like I’m used to with treats of the same flavor. Also, even though it seems like the ratio of thick shortbread to jam is extremely skewed towards the former, the sweet raspberry flavor still shines through with every crumbly, delicious bite. I like to imagine myself daintily munching on these at a fancy tea party, but in reality, I’m at my kitchen table, alone, with jam and shortbread crumbs all over my face — and I couldn’t be happier.

I’m A Trader HOE

Organic Tomato & Roasted Red Pepper Soup

Don’t let the fact that the soup comes in a cardboard carton convince you that it’s not of high quality and taste. In fact, its humble appearance makes its delicious flavor all the more impressive because you would think a soup so creamy and decadent was lovingly crafted in a kitchen with a Michelin star chef, not pre-packaged in a flimsy box. The roasted red pepper adds a slight kick of spice that elevates the soup from being just your run-of-the-mill tomato soup. The last time I ate this soup, my boyfriend made fancy grilled cheese sandwiches (handgrated different types of cheese and everything!) to pair with it, and the combo was to die for. I highly suggest you try it too — not with my boyfriend, though.

I’m afraid this concludes our vicarious journey through the aisles of Trader Joe’s, my patient shoppers. Of course, this list is far from exhaustive, and it does not acknowledge the many Trader Joe’s snacks I’ve tried once but never again (yeah, I’m talking about you, Ridge Cut Salt and Pepper Potato Chips — you sucked). However, I hope these recommendations subconsciously resurface in your mind the next (or first!) time you head over to Trader Joe’s, and you find something both new and worthwhile. Happy shopping!

We Need to Talk

Cultural cuisine in Williamsburg is limited, so when a new Asian restaurant popped up, foodie Arianna Stewart ’24 had to try it. Continue reading to learn how it compares to other Asian restaurants in the area.

Story by Arianna Stewart ‘24

Photo by Zachary Lutzky ‘24

Design by Alexa Carmenates ‘24

Being a student at the College of William and Mary means you’ve probably gone on a ghost tour, visited Busch Gardens, or explored Colonial Williamsburg. Entertainment here is fairly limited beyond that, and I often get bored and restless with the swamp life. I have begun to rely on trying new foods as a way to pass the time. Now, let’s be honest, the cultural cuisine in Williamsburg is ... lacking. To all my NOVA friends: I just know you’re missing the Asian food back home. I’m constantly on the lookout for “Coming Soon” authentic ethnic restaurants. So when a friend informed me about a new ramen place on Richmond Road, I was elated to try it. The restaurant is called Ramen Talk, and it was all I could talk about the whole week.

On an adventurous Friday night, I gathered a few friends together, and we moseyed down to 1640 Richmond Road to eat. It was freezing, and the chilly wind only increased my cravings for the warm, salty, comforting broth. When we arrived, there was a beautiful reproduction of a cherry blossom tree at the entrance. Glowing paper lanterns painted in Japanese characters are found throughout the restaurant, along with cute canvas prints displayed on the walls. My first impression skyrocketed because of the adorable aesthetic that tied the place together.

At Ramen Talk’s soft opening, we had an initial miscommunication with the host, who told us that the kitchen might stop taking orders even though it was an hour and a half before closing. Hearing this made my heart sink into my growling stomach. I had been looking forward to this food for two days! My disappointment was apparent, but I didn’t let it stop me from being hopeful.

After a few minutes, a server started clearing tables and finally motioned for us to follow to be seated.

My friends and I picked up menus, admiring the pictures and growing more excited with each passing dish. My heart was set on the tonkotsu ramen and bao bun ever since I heard about Ramen Talk — like any food-obsessed person, I had browsed the menu as soon as I learned about the restaurant. Unfortunately, as we began to order, the waitress informed us that they were out of rice, and that sushi and other dishes were unavailable. We were all surprised to hear they didn’t have rice because the rice items hadn’t been crossed out on the menu. Although most of us remained unbothered, one of my friends had come prepared to order the mango sushi roll.

While I enjoyed the table conversation, I fought to ignore my impatient stomach. After about 40 minutes, the waitress arrived with our appetizers. The marinated juices from the tender pork belly seeped into the bao bun as I gripped it with both hands. The bun was marshmallow-soft, and my fingers formed small imprints as I brought it up to eat. Taking a bite, the food melted into my mouth, creating a heavenly, sweet flavor. It was incredible: I finished the small dish in roughly four bites, and I immediately wished I’d ordered two.

WE NEED TO TALK... about ramen talk

The appetizer would suffice, but my stomach would only be content for a bit longer before it would need more food. My friends and I returned to our pleasant chit-chat. We grazed over various topics, including current events, politics, Bob Marley, and ghost hunting.

Fortunately, our meals arrived quickly. The ramen was served inside a black koudaidon (a traditional ramen bowl), along with a chirirenge (ramen spoon), and a pair of chopsticks. Steam rose from what seemed like a bottomless lake of broth, wafting the fragrant aroma into my nostrils and making my mouth water.

My ramen came with a side of soft-boiled egg, bamboo shoots, corn, seaweed, and wood-ear mushrooms. The plentiful flavors of the toppings melding with the pork bone broth made the ramen irresistible. The thick texture of the noodles felt high-quality, and it tasted like the dough had been hand-kneaded. As our chopsticks hit the bowls, the table grew silent. Only the eager “SLURP, SLURPs” of our hunger were evident. We were all marveling at how good the food was — we didn’t have time to talk. Only after about 20 minutes did I begin feeling full, the warm broth finally contenting my stomach. Although I wished I could have finished it all, I had to urge myself to lower my chopsticks.

I visited the restaurant again a week later. This time, the number of staff had grown, the service was quicker, and all menu items were available. Not to mention, the food was just as fabulous as before. I even got to try their fried rice!

Ramen Talk surpasses all competitors — including Domoishi, Oishii, and Poke Sushi Bowl — in the flavor and quality of food. The confusing service on my first visit was likely due to Ramen Talk being a new business. Supply chain and staff-shortage issues are completely understandable, and they have definitely improved significantly since then.

The wait was a bit long, and I got restless.

Overall, Ramen Talk has a cute atmosphere, comfortable seats, and tasty food — it’s well worth the experience.

Veggie Here,

There, & Everywhere:

Exploring

Vegetarian OPTIONS AROUND CAMPUS

When imagining the dining options at our very ample selection of dining halls (yes, all three), what comes to mind? Probably not the vegetarian options. While the food typical of the College of William and Mary, which, for the purpose of this article we can abbreviate to TWAMF, does not leave much room for clear vegetarian-based options, they do exist if you know where to find them. Prestin Tran ’26 explores how and where students can find options suitable for a vegetarian diet both in and beyond campus dining halls.

Story by Prestin Tran ’26

Graphics by Danielle Seay ‘25 and JR Herman ‘24

We begin our journey at Sadler Center Court, where the ever-consistent meal options sit patiently for the steady flow of students. Of course, this includes the classic array of fries, chicken nuggets, and hamburgers with self-servable mushrooms, sautéed onions, and bacon. Can you craft a well-balanced meal from the options present at Sadler? The good news is a resounding yes! The Mexican and Global stations serve exactly that purpose.

For those who want a tasty pro-vegetarian meal, the Mexican station graciously offers options to craft a savory take on the common taco. This taco can be assembled using a hard taco shell or burrito, seasoned jackfruit, and white jasmine rice. You can also get creative and combine corn, tomatoes, or pickled peppers. Not a fan? The Global station has ingredients from elsewhere around the world that can also be combined to make a carb and protein-balanced vegetarian meal. Do so by adding sautéed spinach, sweet potato, rice, tofu, and chickpeas. Get even more creative by heading to the Simple Servings station to add their often available sautéed squash and carrots.

Sadler welcomes vegetarians, but what about the Commons (better known as the Caf)? Besides its classic omelet bar and pizza stations, the Caf also houses the Mediterranean station, with many options to create a unique vegetarian meal.

The customizable mix from the Mediterranean bar offers Caf’s best options for all who wish to find non-meat protein and more — this station specializes in food for those with meat dietary restrictions. With the selection of pita bread, falafel, and hummus, you can craft a hearty foundation for a Mediterranean plate. Add on top the feta, beets, greens, and tzatziki, and boom: boom: you have a full meal without meat that maintains a healthy amount of protein.

Say, however, that you have been quite savvy with your Dining Dollars this semester. Where should you go? Two places that take Dining Dollars stand out among the rest in terms of convenient and high-quality vegetarian options: Lodge 1 Aromas and The Bake Shop. What makes these two the most viable candidates for vegetarian friends?

Among the plethora of sandwiches offered at Lodge 1 Aromas, one both incorporates the umami flavor of the panini and also retains a vegetarian character: the “Veggies Panini.” The “Veggies Panini” incorporates a savory taste from the roasted mushrooms as well as a sweet, somewhat tangy note from the seasoned bell peppers. Paired with cheese and various other sautéed vegetables like squash, the combination is laid between two slices of panini-pressed bread. The result is a non-meat, filling meal for sandwich lovers for $12.99.

Crossing Richmond Road, we find ourselves at The Bake Shop on Armistead Avenue, a local favorite among students. For $8.50, a vegetarian option quite different from a veggie panini awaits us. While it has bread and veggie components like its Lodge 1 Aromas counterpart, we find that the overall structure is dissimilar — this is The Bake Shop’s Avocado Toast. On a piece of toast half the size of a hand, an avocado mash is piled up with toppings of radish slices, pepper flakes, and pickled onions. Upon first bite, the smoothness from the avocado, the tanginess from the pickled toppings, and the crunch from the bread make this a very tasty treat. It must be said, however, that it would most likely take two orders to get full, which would end up costing $17.

So, friends, I hope that you can take your vegetarian cravings to the next level at some of the wonderful places mentioned in this list. And in the dining halls, don’t be afraid to get creative with your food — you never know what delicious veggie meal you may end up creating.

Restaurant

Reviews

Forget Monty Python’s quest for the Holy Grail — what Flat Hat Magazine staff cares about is edible food (which, as @wm_dining_ would suggest, is certainly not to be found on this campus). Join us for a tour of our favorite restaurants in Williamsburg, where we blow our budgets and gobble up food like Om-Nom from Cut the Rope (this is our nostalgia-core issue; don’t judge us. You probably played it too).

Retro’s vanilla Oreo milkshakes, chicken quesadillas, and stuffed jalapeños will always hold a special place in my heart. From meeting friends in person for the first time after being remote, to awkward Tinder dates sophomore fall, to dinners and deep discussions with my closest friends, Retro’s has been there for it all.

–JR Herman ’24

Delicious tacos, arcade games, and trivia nights — you can get it all at Electric Circus Taqueria in an atmosphere of neon decor. If you’re not looking for anything fancy and want a night of fun with friends, this is a great choice.

–Bailey Langhans ’26

Story by Flat Hat Magazine Staff Graphics by JR Herman ‘24

No restaurant has saved me from stress-induced delirium or the homesickness of living in (what seems like) the whitest town in the world like Amiraj has. Tingling spices and tandoor-fired naan, coupled with a classy yet cozy interior, makes it the best place in Williamsburg to take visiting parents (or UberEats … to the library).

– Ranjani Krishnan ’25

Bonanza is my favorite place around here (I even want them to cater my future wedding). Their fresh veggies, spice, and umami provide a Korean atmosphere here in Williamsburg — beer and fried chicken are the only ways to survive a hard week of exams!

Mellow Mushroom has locations in both Williamsburg and Charlottesville, my hometown. It gives me a connection to home in a roundabout way — my school would cater pizza from here. When I get homesick, it reminds me that part of my home is with me, in a way.

– Katie Fitzgerald ’26

Peking Restaurant is an underrated favorite. Perfect for broke college students, it offers a $10.99 lunch buffet with surprisingly high-quality food (relative to buffet standards). I’d be happy spending the 11 bucks solely on their beef stew.

– Vivian Hoang ’24

– Georgia Thoms ’23

Debating

Innovation

A new home for computing, data, and applied sciences

Story and Design by Rebecca Altman ’25

On September 22, 2022, the College of William and Mary revealed its intentions to explore a new school for computing, data, and applied sciences. The announcement comes at a time when technology is the buzzword of the century, with the College seeking to cement its place as a data-driven destination for higher education.

The College of William and Mary holds itself to an incredible standard: a public research institution functioning within a liberal arts framework. The College takes great pride in its faculty-student relationships, vibrant campus community, and culture of innovation. Nowhere are these pillars on fuller display than with the upcoming establishment of a new computing, data, and applied sciences school.

Steeped in tradition, the College remains closely aligned with the liberal arts. Within the Commonwealth of Virginia, the University of Virginia and Virginia Tech tend to reign supreme in STEM-related fields, while the College overtakes both in faculty excellence. Rising demands for data-focused education, both at the state and federal levels, have prompted a new approach. And with fears looming over the fast-approaching demographic cliff — the period post-2008 associated with fewer births — the College seeks to make itself more competitive to attract high school students.

Professor Evgenia Smirni, Chair of the Computer Science department, discussed how conversations on developing the school began.

“The Computer Science department went to the Provost ... and we talked to her about creating a school for computing and whatever else,” Smirni said. “And she was very receptive to the idea. And then, the pandemic hit. We had other more important things to deal with, so everything went to the back burner, but discussions began again last spring.”

To begin pondering these possibilities wasn’t entirely unexpected — the number of students graduating with degrees in computational fields has grown exponentially in the past decade. Four computational programs were added to the College from 2011 to 2021, more than doubling student enrollment in these majors. Furthermore, Data Science became a major in 2020, and the Commonwealth selected the College for funding to enhance the program mere months later.

These enrollment trends, combined with the growing pressures of competing in a data-driven world, drove faculty to vote in April 2021 on departmental status for Data Science. The program

currently resides within the Computer Science department. The presenters argued that having a department would allow it to grow more effectively and incorporate the liberal arts better than peer institutions — both inside and outside of the Commonwealth.

“Looking into our public Ivies, there are only two places that [do not have a] school of computing or school of engineering,” Smirni said. “And these places are UNC and William and Mary. So the trend is there, and that’s where the world is going.”

After their presentation, the floor opened for questions — many were raised. Some focused on funding for new faculty; starting salaries for data scientists soar above what professors typically make. And at a time when the College didn’t have excess money to spend — even with state funding — establishing a department seemed improbable. Another point of contention was the rush to establish a Data Science department before other programs that had existed for much longer. What made Data Science special in this regard, while other programs, such as International Relations and Public Policy, had to be restrained?

With the meeting closing, a vote on the department began. The motion failed, with 38% of attendees voting in favor, 45% against, and 17% abstaining.

Despite lukewarm feelings toward a new academic division at the College, upper administration and select faculty members continued discussing its possibility. Vision 2026, unveiled at Charter Day in February 2022, highlights a data initiative pledging to expand the College’s presence and influence in computational fields. An action item included the establishment of a new program focused on computational and data engineering, yet at the time, did not go so far as to suggest the establishment of a new school.

The message changed in September 2022 when Provost Peggy Agouris presented the College’s exploration of a new school in computing and data sciences to the Board of Visitors. The material presented came from Smirni; Professor Eric Bradley, Chair of the Applied Science department; and Professor Anthony Stefanidis, Director of the Data Science program, who spent the previous

semester planning with a few other faculty members. Agouris spoke of how better-organized programs would help the College’s relationships at both the state and federal levels by soliciting donations and collaborating with other institutions and like-minded organizations.

Smirni added that the growing popularity of the Computer Science department has put significant constraints on her ability to meet the interdisciplinary aspirations of her students.

“We will have the ability to serve our student population, for example, like the University of Pittsburgh School of Computing. They have a joint degree between the School of Computing and English on digital narratives. Now, if English comes to me and says, ‘Hey, let’s join forces and let’s do this kind of thing’... I can hardly meet my own needs. I can’t do that,” said Smirni.

However, possibilities for cross-departmental collaboration finally seem feasible. While the growth in student interest in computational sciences at the College aligns with national trends, the increases in faculty lag. With the creation of a new school, the faculty size could grow to meet national expectations.

Along these lines, recruitment presents another factor in the push for the new school. Obtaining faculty without a distinct division for computational sciences troubles Smirni, especially when the

current facilities for Computer Science are less than ideal.

“We feel like after we make them an offer, and they’re all ready, we are almost embarrassed to show the building,” Smirni, whose department resides in McGlothlin-Street Hall, said. “They go to all these other interviews in truly snazzy buildings, and then they’re like, ‘Oh, you’re telling me all these great things ... here?’”

Smirni’s facilities will change upon completing Phase IV of the Integrated Science Center, which will also house Mathematics, Kinesiology, and Design/Engineering. With an estimated finish date of August 2025, Smirni hopes that McGlothlinStreet Hall will be sufficient for the next few years.

“Our building, it’s just awful,” Smirni said. “And this is what I tell my faculty and students: it’s going to get worse before it gets better.”

Recruitment also comes into effect with graduate students, whose research is crucial in retaining undergraduates.

“When it comes to research in Computer Science, and the same thing in Data Science, it is absolutely necessary for good undergraduate instruction,”

Smirni said. “Why? Because these fields change so fast. And this change is dramatic. So, a stronger graduate program is absolutely necessary for a a healthy and strong undergraduate program because you have to incorporate the latest and greatest in our classes. And that’s what we do.”

A third argument for creating an autonomous unit is to better solicit funding for the programs. Establishing a school for computing, data, and applied sciences shows the College’s institutional commitment to advancing STEM education. This pledge will give the College leverage in establishing relationships with regional and nationwide donors and data-based organizations and, as Smirni indicated, put the College on equal footing with peer institutions.

The College’s faculty who are against the new school are not anti-data-driven education; instead, they are wary of how the school openly announced its intentions without meaningful faculty consultation. These sentiments were on full display in an open letter from faculty, published four days following Agouris’ meeting with the BOV.

“Over the past few years, William & Mary has faced enormous challenges,” the faculty wrote. “The COVID-19 pandemic, concern over financial stabilization, and changes in public attitudes toward higher education have all created the need to rethink the missions and values of William &

Mary. During this time, we have seen a disturbing tendency to centralize decision-making and exclude meaningful faculty participation in setting the direction of the institution.”

Decreasing shared governance in decision-making, specifically regarding Vision 2026, was a hallmark concern along with administrative turnover. Within a month, Dean Donoghue Velleca and former Chief Operating Officer Amy Sebring announced their departures, raising concerns about a lack of insight into the status of the College’s administration. And with a vacuum in upper-level decision-makers, the faculty — especially those that stay at the College beyond the tenure of a single administration — asserted that they ought to have more of a presence in planning for the future.

Out of the letter’s 219 signatures, only four came from the Computer Science department: three Computer Science professors and one Data Science professor. Smirni was not one of them, noting the innate concerns raised by faculty regarding the rising frequency of administrative turnover.

“Any change in administration, in organization, the change is met with a lot of reluctance from people,” Smirni said. “This is something which is actually, I’d say, expected, that’s very normal. People are just like, ‘Okay, how is this going to affect me?’”

Outside of the open letter, faculty have raised similar concerns to those brought up in April 2021 about the development of a new school in computational sciences: money. How would the College fund a new cohort of Data Science professors when their starting salaries are higher than those of the existing faculty? And how will this disparity affect existing programs in other fields?

The College’s intentions on expansion may already be coming at a cost to non-STEM departments. On Feb. 8, 2023, Acting Dean of Faculty for Arts & Sciences Suzanne Raitt notified faculty of the discontinuance of the German Studies major. The College based its decision on declines in student demand.

“The German Studies faculty is, as you can imagine, deeply dismayed by this unprecedented move by the administration to delete a major that adds so much to MLL [Modern Languages & Literature] and to the college humanities

curriculum,” the German Studies faculty wrote in an email to their students.

The College contracts many consulting firms for various campuswide projects, sometimes with a hefty price tag. Faculty noted their dwindling inclusion in critical decisions made by the College, highlighting the administration’s increasing reliance on firms.

The combination of continuously hiring outside consultants and the gutting of the German Studies major led to discussions among faculty and students about the College’s prioritization of advancing certain projects at the expense of other departments, particularly those in the humanities. But Smirni assured faculty from all disciplines that a new school in computational sciences will encourage participation from as many departments that express interest and that the College’s liberal arts core will not deteriorate.

“There’s this fear of, ‘Oh my God, if we’re moving into the new school, what is going to happen to the liberal arts education?’ Nothing is going to happen to the liberal arts education because this is the William and Mary brand,” Smirni said. “Actually, it will help us serve better [and] build a better liberal arts education because we will still have the core curriculum. We will still have the double majors ... I think that’s what makes them great.”

Since Agouris met with the BOV, she has formed a steering committee to revise the current draft of plans for the new school. A significant amount of

work is still needed before institutional changes ensue. Still, excitement grows among the computing sciences community about the growth they will see once the exploration becomes a reality.

“We have such great things at William and Mary, and we can make it better,” Smirni said. “So, I’m optimistic. I see these other schools that have it. Why not us? Why should we be left behind? We shouldn’t.”

Images Courtesy of University Marketing & Advancement Communications

Classes That

Community Psychology and Prevention reminded me of why I wanted to become a Psychology major. The course emphasized the importance of the individual in context, rather than placing full blame for one’s behaviors on the brain. It transformed my thinking and the way I communicate with others.

Age of Soul: Jazz, R&B, Rock n Roll in American Life convinced me that it is possible to study the American popular music that I have loved all my life in an academic context. Every class, we listened to music from a variety of genres and learned about the ways in which pop music shapes — and is shaped by — American history and culture. I found so many new favorite songs through this class but, most importantly, I found my home in the American Studies department. Thank you, Professor McGovern!

My Methods in Archaeology class changed how I view culture and archaeology. As a Classical Studies student, I thought it was fascinating how the physical land and nature of excavations, along with indigenous peoples, not only impacts the excavation itself but the conclusions we draw from them — we discussed how to keep culture, cooperation, and teamwork at the forefront of research, rather than focusing exclusively on the history preserved in the ground. In general, COLL 350s are a fantastic way to educate yourself about navigating race, ethnicity, and your own implicit biases in any field.

–Georgia Thoms ‘23

– Monica Bagnoli ’25

– Mary Beth Bauermann ’24

Changed Us

Despite being listed as a Government course, Race, Law, Memory showed me what the study of history should look like. Structured like an open dialogue and a safe space in which we all laughed and shared pieces of ourselves, it put the high school lecture format to shame and pushed me to rethink my understanding of race and identity. Through this course, I discovered a passion for investigating U.S. racial history to better understand and combat contemporary social inequities, which later led me to proudly declare a History major. Shout out to Jackson Sasser!

Acting One has really shifted my path in college because it showed me how passionate acting makes me feel. Digging deeper into scripts and character motivations has helped me transform myself into different characters and adopt so many different perspectives. Seeing how much work and time goes into rehearsal, ensemble camaraderie, and character building has also given me a huge appreciation for acting as an art form.

I would not be who I am today if I hadn’t taken Professor Pope’s Deciphering Ancient Egypt course. I fell in love with the language, with those “aha” moments where you might have stumbled across something that no one alive in the past 1,500+ years has ever considered. It’s intoxicating in the most twampy way. I finished Deciphering Ancient Egypt, DAE II, Ancient Egyptian Inscriptions, and Middle Egyptian Texts with lifelong friends, some of my fondest college memories, and an Ancient Near East & Africa Studies major. I’m also a Classics major, but if you ask me, “Greece or Rome?” I will 100% answer with “Egypt.” Sorry, not sorry.

– Vivian Hoang ’24

– Nevaeh Galluccio ’26

– JR Herman ’24

15

top FLAT HAT ARTICLES of the last

2018

“New Griffin statue inappropriate, anatomically graphic”

by Ethan Brown and Anna Boustany

During Homecoming festivities in October 2018, a bronze statue of the Tribe mascot, the Griffin, was unveiled in its current location in front of Zable Stadium. Brown ’21 and Boustany ’21 describe the “public outrage” surrounding the excessive anatomical details of the Griffin’s pelvic region. Students express confusion and humor regarding the private funding used for the creation of the statue, as well as its suggestive, explicit nature.

“Cool Beans: A definitive ranking of the College’s best campus coffee shops”

by Maggie More

In a witty article, More ’20 ranks establishments around the College that serve coffee, including Swemromas, Daily Grind, Element Café, and Wawa, among others, by their differences in walkability, price range, and variety of options in available blends and caffeine levels. More interviews students on their opinions and ultimately shares her ratings on the variety of options available on campus.

“Barefoot in Swem: A harrowing tale of discomfort”

by Kimberly Lores

Lores ’21 expresses her shock at the frequent appearance of students strolling around Swem Library without wearing socks or shoes. Raising issue with both the lack of personal hygiene and common decency, she debates the risks and rewards for students proudly parading barefoot around Swem and begs students to cease this behavior “for the love of all that is good and sanitary in this world.”

“Garden vs. gardens: Students debate proper terminology for iconic concave field”

by Ethan Brown and Anna Boustany

Affectionately referred to as the “campus’s anchoring point,” Brown ’21 and Boustany ’21 discuss the proper term to address the rectangular lawn at the center of Old Campus. Many students argue for a plural reference to the area, suggesting that the brick walkways divide the lawn into multiple gardens. However, other students and student organizations, such as AMP and The Flat Hat, prefer the singular term. Brown and Boustany attribute the variations in terminology to the evolving nature of language, acknowledging the possibility of further change in the coming years.

The past five years have been far from uneventful. For The Flat Hat newspaper, stories from the Variety and Opinions sections have ranged from pieces covering the infamous emergence of Yik Yak across campus to tales of barefoot students meandering around Swem Library. Calculated based on view count and interactions with individual posts, the following fifteen stories have been some of the most attentiongrabbing pieces from the past 1,827 days.

5 years

“Short story dispenser in Swem Library incorporates literature into daily life”

by Anhthu Cung

Cung ’23 encourages students to take advantage of Swem Library’s short story dispenser following its debut in March 2019. The machine, produced by the French company Short Edition, prints a variety of short stories and poetry for students to access and enjoy. Students can choose their preferred story length with randomized genre selections and read them on ecofriendly paper free of charge.

“Behind Closed Doors: Consent is vitally important in relationships, does not sacrifice intimacy”

by Veronica M.

As a writer for the wellknown sexual wellness section of The Flat Hat, Veronica understands the importance of sexual activity through romantic encounters and hookups. However, she feels it is vital to discuss the meaning of consent and the importance of open communication in relationships. “Whether it’s a one-night stand, or someone you’ve been on 16 dates with, or your partner of 50 years, sex is a serious matter when it comes to consent,” Veronica said.

“Behind Closed Doors: Glory holes prove useful as form of safe intimacy, allow sexual encounters in age of COVID-19”

by The Holetariat

Under the pseudonym

“The Holetariat,” a freshman student at the College describes the euphoric experience of taking part in a taboo sexual exchange with an older student whom he’d matched with on the dating app Grindr. In this infamous piece, part of the “Behind Closed Doors” column, the anonymous student emphasizes the importance of engaging in safe sex during the COVID-19 pandemic.

“Japanese Words to Impress Your Friends!”

by Kate Lucas

Japanese Studies

minor Lucas ’21 shares her most memorable words for everyday conversation after her three-month residence in Japan. Words such as hitokuchi, which translates to “one bite,” chidoriashi, which translates to “drunk walk,” and neguse, which translates to “bedhead,” constitute just some of Lucas’ memorable list of words to take note of.

Abigail Connelly ‘25

Danielle Seay ‘25

Arianna Stewart ‘24

Andrew Johnston ‘24

by Grant Wong

Guest columnist Wong ’21 describes history in academic spheres as an “interpretation” of the people, places, and events of the past. By referencing the many issues surrounding political discourse, Wong emphasizes that history, as an act of interpretation, constantly evolves through discussion and debate. Wong, a History major, encourages other students and academics to view the world through this lens.

“Here’s the catch: there are no books at the new College bookstore”

by Lucas Harsche

The movement of the College Bookstore to its new location in the Triangle Building on Prince George Street brought a plethora of mixed reviews. Harsche ’23 shares his thoughts on the move, reminiscing on the Bookstore’s former location and original layout, replete with books both for academic use and pleasure reading as well as a fully operational, in-house coffee shop.

“It’s Yik Yak Time: The anonymous app that regained popularity across college campuses”

by Anu Desai

Despite its previous removal from the app store in 2017 as a result of widespread social unrest, the controversial app was revived by the developers of Yik Yak in August of 2021. Desai ’24 explores the app’s re-emergence, commenting on the surreal concept of students expressing their thoughts without consequence.

“Should you stay in Williamsburg for the Yule Log Ceremony?”

by Alyssa Slovin

The annual tradition of the Yule Log takes place in the Wren Courtyard in the midst of final examinations, with choir groups singing meticulously rehearsed pieces, the College President presenting a holiday book, and students throwing sprigs of holly onto the blazing Yule Log for good luck. Slovin ’22 praises the wintry tradition, emphasizing that even though many students prioritize leaving campus as early as possible, she finds it rewarding to “go out in style” by attending the Yule Log ceremony alongside friends.

“Studying history, appreciating historical method offer helpful blueprint for understanding present”

“Confusion Corner: Updating your everyday emoji choices”

by Madeleine Harris

The iOS 15.4 update introduced a variety of new emojis, many of which were rapidly integrated into daily conversations between Apple users. In this Variety piece, Harris ’24 reviews a list of her most memorable emoticons, including the half-faced saluting emoticon, the hamsa symbol, and the melting face emoticon.

“Highs, Lows and Buffaloes: The College of William and Mary from a Freshman’s Perspective”

by Clara Rinker

Rinker ’26 provides a list of some of her most memorable experiences, worst moments, and random observations from her time as a freshman at the College, as well as her perspective as an Alabama native on dining on-campus, dorm privacy, and transportation without a personal vehicle as an out-of-state student.

“Survival

guide: dining hall food”

by Caitlin Noe

Amid dining hall changes implemented during the Spring 2022 semester, Noe ’24 expresses her views on viable meal options on campus, including Sadler Express, Marketplace, and restaurants accepting Dining Dollars like Chickfil-A and Domino’s.

The Cost of Staying Silent

Safety Concerns in Greek Social Life at the College

Story by Bailey Langhans ‘26

Graphic by Syeda Safdar ‘25

In 1776, the College of William and Mary established an American tradition with the nation’s first fraternity, Phi Beta Kappa, originally consisting of five students. Since then, Greek social life has dramatically expanded, not only at the College but across the country. Join Managing Editor Bailey Langhans ’26 as she explores hazing and drugging concerns at the College.

Greek life provides the opportunity for students to participate in traditions, community, charity, and scholarship; however, these social circles also have a long and complicated history of hazing and other incidents.

In 2022, the College of William and Mary participated in the National College Student Bystander Intervention Survey — 26% of the students who participated in the study reported witnessing acts of hazing in the last year. Of these incidents, 92% involved fraternities, and 26% involved sororities.

On July 1, 2022, Virginia enacted Adam’s Law to address hazing in the Commonwealth. The law directly impacted universities, requiring hazing prevention training for students joining certain types of organizations, including Greek life. Anne Arseneau, Director of the College’s Student Leadership Development, works with a team to organize this “Home Without Hazing” training and expressed hope that these workshops and peer-topeer conversations will have a noticeable impact.

“I think we’ll have about 3,500 people who have been trained by the end of this academic year — more people having an understanding of what hazing behavior looks like, what to do if you see it anywhere on campus, and what William and Mary’s expectations are about that.”

Despite these efforts, tangible results remain unclear.

“If you’d asked me in August what I anticipated would happen this year, I would have anticipated higher reporting happening in our anonymous report form,” Arseneau said. “That has not been the case. So I don’t have a real rationale for that, though I do like to believe people are shifting the point of how they’re paying attention to new member opportunities and are changing the dynamics of what it means to bring a new member into their organization.”

While the College continues to develop methods to prevent future incidents and establish repercussions for fraternities and sororities, many students still suffer from hazing and other safety issues at social events.

“I’ve loved being a part of Greek life, but there are aspects that everybody needs to watch out for,” one student who asked to remain anonymous said. “There are definitely party incidents.”

She experienced one of those incidents firsthand last spring, when multiple students — herself included — were drugged at a party hosted by a fraternity at the College.

“I’ve never felt like that in my life before, and it was terrifying because I couldn’t even tell anyone something was wrong,” she said. “I was so out of it, and it didn’t hit me until the next morning. Thankfully, I woke up unharmed, and my friends were unharmed, except for the fact that we knew something had gone very wrong.”

Unfortunately, despite the various anonymous report forms on the College’s website, many of these incidents remain unreported, with victims often feeling ashamed or unsure of how to proceed following the incident.

“I felt like I couldn’t even say anything about it because it was the next morning. I wasn’t in immediate danger. I should be fine. Nothing happened to me. Which is really messed up, that I felt like I couldn’t even go get tested to make sure I knew what had happened to me. I still don’t know what was in my drink [or] what happened to this day,” the student said.

Many organizations historically have stigmatized and discouraged victims from reporting incidents to prevent student-organized social events from being shut down.

“I know several of my friends and I tried to get together to raise awareness about it,” the student said. “We started an Instagram page. We had a little rally, but not a lot of people showed up. It’s not something that people want to discuss or confront because it is one of those ugly sides of Greek life.”

“A Home Without Hazing” is increasing the conversation and awareness surrounding safety issues, but the College still has room for progress.

“The school could do a lot more to clarify the Good Griffin Policy because I woke up that next morning and was like, ‘I don’t know what I can do. I’m not in immediate danger. But something has happened to me, very clearly something has happened,’” the student continued. “And to have those resources available would be very good. I think a lot of it does have to come from within, like holding people accountable.”

These incidents not only affect those directly involved in Greek life but also students who attend various social events and parties hosted by fraternities and sororities. A second student shared her story anonymously.

“We got to the party, and I took a cup and filled it probably halfway with boxed wine. I don’t remember anything after having maybe a few sips,” she said. “My friends found me later that night upstairs in a bedroom with one of the brothers and had to drag me out of the house. They already had to put another one of my friends in an Uber who, like me, had only had maybe a glass of wine and was falling on the floor and incoherent. I do not remember any of this at all. Thankfully, according to my friends, it seemed like nothing too bad had happened, but I wonder how bad it could’ve been if they hadn’t come to get me.”

In both instances, the support gained from trusted friends — sorority sisters or otherwise — helped the students avoid further harm, but this incident too was unreported. Social culture amongst students prevents some of these events from being brought to the College’s attention.

“I’m pretty positive my friend and I were both spiked [or] drugged at that frat party,” the second anonymous student said. “Neither of us reported it to the school due to fear of being blackballed from parties and social engagements — something that had happened to one of my other friends earlier in the year. For me, as an unaffiliated student, I was doubly worried about being barred from social events.”

The student also expressed the need for certain changes to Greek life to address ongoing hazing and safety issues.

“I believe that Greek life began as something good and has morphed so drastically into a harmful entity. It should not be something required for a fun social life, but it seems that has become the case,” she said. “I have watched rape, racism, and other cruelties committed by members of Greek life be completely swept under the rug by the College, to the detriment of the sorority/fraternity, its members, and the College at large. I think the College needs to be more proactive by bringing disciplinary action against these people and the organizations that condone these things.”

To address student concerns, the College provides what it calls “Student Organization Conduct History” on its website to increase transparency about Greek life incidents, some of which have resulted in the probation of certain fraternities and sororities. Nevertheless, many incidents still go unreported.

Arseneau expanded on the future endeavors that the College has planned to continue addressing hazing.

“One of the things we know for certain in working with staff is that our prospective member training will take place as part of new student orientation, which will be really helpful because we started the month of September [by] putting 1,500 people through the training. We did 15 sessions in a 30 day period,” Arseneau said. “It was a lot of energy trying to capture people outside of orientation, and I think it will be helpful to us to have every incoming student have met the requirement, whether they know they want to join or not.”

While progress remains unknown, these accounts from various students on campus reveal that concerns do still exist. Many students value active social lives during their time in college, and Greek life provides the main outlet for that support and connection at the College. Despite being wellintentioned, social gatherings held by fraternities and sororities continue to place students’ safety at risk, raising the question of what changes still need to be made for Greek life to be the safe community the College desires it to be.

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Senior Send-Off

Celebrating senior staff with 5 semesters of service

Georgia Thoms

Editor-at-Large (2022-2023) Staff Writer (2021)

Georgia is a Biology and Classical Studies double major from East Lyme, CT (but she’s truly a Manhattanite). Outside of Flat Hat Magazine, she serves as Vice President of Pointe Blank Dance Company and is involved in the Pre-Vet Club. Besides showing every soul she meets pictures of her two dogs (Theodore Roosevelt and King Leonidas), she writes poetry, listens to true crime podcasts, crotchets, and geeks out over anime (and basically any fandom). You might catch her consuming her body weight in Aroma’s croissants whilst sprinting to her next class.

Articles: Small-Time Seller to Global Crocheter, Life in the Dream House, Colonial Williamsburg Rare Breeds Program, A Conversation With Professor Jeremy Pope, & Guillermo Y María

Spilling the Tea ›

If there’s one thing Flat Hat Magazine staff is good at, it’s gossiping. So, buckle up, y’all: we’ve got major tea to spill. The craziest, funniest, and most chaotic true stories we’ve heard, all in one place.

I know someone at W&M who slept with her best friend’s ex-boyfriend, only for that best friend to then have revenge sex with her ex-boyfriend (who just so happened to be a convicted pedophile).

I know someone at W&M who was called a slut for taking Microeconomics.

I know someone at W&M who “accidentally” peed in a girl’s mouth.

I know someone at W&M who got stabbed by a girl when he dumped her and had to go to the hospital.

I know someone at W&M who, instead of washing his underwear, just leaves them on the floor and cycles through his other pairs, assuming time will make them clean.

I know someone at W&M who accidentally left a shart (if you know, you know) stain on a classroom carpet after eating too much cabbage and then engaging in late-night sexual shenanigans.

I know someone at W&M who converted to Catholicism as a form of rebellion against his liberal, atheist parents.

I know someone at W&M whose car was such a hazard that the glove compartment was in the back seat and the front was held together by a zip tie.

I know someone at W&M who duct-taped a mouse in his closet, only for it to escape by eating through the ceiling.

Graphic by Zoe Davis ‘25 Design by Katie Fitzgerald ‘26

The most recent installation on the College of William and Mary’s campus is an unpopular one. Students most certainly have some opinions about the fence.

the College is synonymous with many things: its extensive history, cozy campus, high academic standards, and being in a constant state of construction. The school’s vision is expansion. While this is not necessarily an issue, the current student body must bear the burden of the school’s efforts to reach this goal. First, it was the housing shortage caused by increasingly large freshman classes; now, it is the fact that literally half of the campus is either currently being torn down or will be in the near future.

You could argue that the fence is nothing more than an inconvenience. I would concur, but the scale of this inconvenience must be considered. The fence is expected to be up until 2025. It’s roughly a two-minute slowdown. Two minutes for the next three years is a lot of time if you are making that walk every day, or even multiple times a day. Think of all that you could do with this lost time. You could read several books, learn an instrument or maybe even a language, or perhaps best of all, you could learn how to cook so that you no longer have to consume the god-awful dining hall food.

Walking from the Sadler Center to Swem Library (using stairs that are no longer present) was a part of my daily routine. Now, we are forced to walk through ISC, weathering the sleep-deprived glares of the Element Café regulars as we interrupt their caffeine fix. The soul-crushing atmosphere of the ISC is a far cry from the pleasant ambiance that accompanies the usual walk to Swem. The calming breeze is now tainted by the chalky odor of construction and a cascading green wall covered with redundant signage stating that this is, in fact, a detour. Way to insult our intelligence, admin.

Story and Design by Andrew Johnston ‘25

Photos by Ryan Goodman ‘25

Between 9:00 a.m. and 2:00 p.m., I would describe the congestion as something akin to peak rush hour on I-95. Funneling hundreds of students through a single narrow choke, centered around the ISC exit nearest to Swem, greatly compounds the issue of the annoyingly large number of slow walkers that attend this school. There is no way to avoid this traffic. You are forced to slowly push your way through the hordes of people who are also unfortunate enough to be on this area of campus. The occasional golf cart passing through this bottleneck is also a massive slowdown, as the drivers do everything in their power to avoid running over the helpless students flocked together like sheep (but not in a cute way like the little yellow “shweep” that occupy the Swem Patio).

The westernmost area of the fence is likely nothing more than an elaborate conspiracy to make students forget about the existence of the “devil’s armpit,” better known as John E. Boswell Hall. As if the appearance of Boswell — both inward and outward — wasn’t out of place enough on an otherwise beautiful campus, it is now also a nuisance to navigate both to and from. President Rowe does not want students and faculty to remember Boswell, largely because it is expected to soon be underground — yes, in addition to being home to dozens of molds, the building is also quite literally sinking at a rate of several centimeters a year. This would make the “expansion of the Muscarelle” both a figurative and literal cover-up.

This unsightly development could perhaps ease the ongoing housing shortage. With the constant construction, living on campus is certainly a far less appealing proposition. Maybe the neverending tour groups actually want to show off the construction for all the reasons not to come here. Then, at least, the school could house their students instead of leaving them to stress,

commiserate, and ultimately live in Midtown, even though they swore they would never live there. This is not to say that living on campus was particularly appealing to begin with, given the condition of some of the freshman and sophomore residence halls.

With all of this in mind, I think I speak for more than just myself when I say: President Rowe, tear down this fence. It is time for the student body to put its foot down against this injustice that has been imposed upon us. We stand here at a crossroads. Your choice will determine the fate of both the student body and this university. Let this serve as your call to action. No more fence-ation without representation!

On February 7, 1945, The Flat Hat newspaper released an issue containing an anonymous editorial written by Editor-in-Chief Marilyn Kaemmerle ’45. The editorial was titled “Lincoln’s Job Half-Done” and promoted the inclusive treatment and admission of Black students to the College of William and Mary in the postwar period. Twelve days later, Kaemmerle found herself removed from the paper and all but expelled from the College. How did this brief editorial result in Kaemmerle’s rapid removal from The Flat Hat and incite a slew of nationwide coverage?

Marilyn Kaemmerle was born on January 18, 1923, in Dayton, Kentucky and grew up in Jackson, Michigan. Kaemmerle attended

the College from 1941-1945 and served as The Flat Hat’s 34th Editor-in-Chief. She had written regularly for the paper and was known by other students at the College as “Mac.”

For the 15th issue of the 34th volume of The Flat Hat, Kaemmerle published an unsigned editorial addressing the admission of Black students, interracial marriage, prejudice at the College, white supremacy, and Nazi Germany.

“When Lincoln freed the slaves, he undoubtedly hoped the Negroes would someday be accepted as equals by the other colors of people in this country. Today we find Negroes released from formal bondage, but not equalized,” Kaemmerle wrote.

Kaemmerle’s intentions to publish the editorial in this particular issue were rooted in her acknowledgment of Lincoln’s birthday, celebrated nationally on February 12.

“We believe and know that Negroes differ from other peoples only in surface characteristics; inherently all are the same. The Negroes should be recognized as equals in our minds and hearts. For us, this means that Negroes should attend William and Mary; they should go to our classes, participate in College functions, join the same clubs, be our roommates, pin the same classmates, and marry among us,” Kaemmerle said.

Kaemmerle’s statements were moderated by the inclusion of the following statement, suggesting that despite the necessity of equal treatment and recognition of Black individuals in academic and social settings, the matter must not be rushed.

“However, this cannot and should not be done today, or tomorrow, -- but perhaps the next day. Neither they nor we are ready for it yet,” Kaemmerle said.

Kaemmerle concluded her article by placing the topic of race relations at the College in the context of World War II.

“The most important work, however, must be done in educating ourselves away from the idea of white supremacy, for this belief is as groundless as Hitler’s nordic supremacy nonsense,” she wrote.

In his piece, “Flat Hat Democracy at William and Mary,” Robert H. Bryant provided students’ reactions from the day of the issue’s original publication. The work was featured in the April 1945 edition of “You Can Be a Delegate at the Peace Table: Creating the New World Through Government Democracy.”

“Wednesday, February seventh, seemed to me like any other day on which the student publication, Flat Hat, is released. The students could be found poring over its gossip column and other news in the corridors as they walked from class to class,” Bryant wrote.

Bryant was aware that students frequently limited their reading of the paper to the “gossip column” and other news but was shocked by the sudden onset of discussions and commentary surrounding Kaemmerle’s editorial.

“When I first read the editorial, I was not greatly surprised by most of its proposals, because I had become acquainted with similar views held on the campus by a minority of the students … Therefore, I, like most of the other students, dismissed the article very good naturedly and expected nothing to come of it,” Bryant said.

Though students were fairly unperturbed by the publication, the Board of Visitors expressed significant displeasure and, through President John E. Pomfret, hastened to remove Kaemmerle from her position as Editor-in-Chief.

“The president had told me that the BOV had met and wished to expel me. He then told me that he would rather resign than expel me. I was then forced to resign,” Kaemmerle said in an interview with Flat Hat Staff Writer Susan Winiecki ’87 in the newspaper’s December 5, 1986 issue.

As documented in the minutes of the Board meeting on February 10, 1945, Pomfret informed the board that through “a lack of editorial responsibility the editor had forfeited the confidence of the College community, and, therefore, should not continue as editor.”

Pomfret also indicated his desire to “initiate some supervision over undergraduate publications, through faculty advisors or counselors.”

During this meeting, a resolution was passed stating, “The Board directs the administration and faculty to take corrective and disciplinary action as may be necessary, including the assumption of such control over approving the material in such publications as may be required.”

A Board member pushed to amend this motion with a direct reference to Kaemmerle’s removal from The Flat Hat and from the school itself; however, the additional motion was not seconded.

Kaemmerle expressed her surprise at viewing Pomfret’s statements in the Board minutes, noting that he’d often been complimentary of her editorials and the paper as a whole.

“What he [Pomfret] said to me certainly contradicted this [the minutes],” Kaemmerle said. “It’s hard to believe that he would have taken that action independently against me.”

After her removal from The Flat Hat in 1945, publications were suspended at the order of Pomfret. Successors of Kaemmerle reached an eventual agreement with the College to allow consultation with faculty on any controversial issues prior to publication, and The Flat Hat resumed printing as normal. Ruth Weimer, The Flat Hat’s Managing Editor, was promoted to the role of Editor-in-Chief as Kaemmerle’s replacement on February 19, 1945.

“I have not been an agitator. I haven’t been angry. I haven’t initiated any of this. I’ve been hurt. But I also have this strong sense of ambivalence and the sense that the College itself is not living up to its own best ideals,” Kaemmerle said in the 1986 interview.

Kaemmerle’s disappointment in the College changed her relationship with the campus in the years that followed. She graduated from the College in 1945 with a Bachelor’s Degree in English and Home Economics. In her two returns to campus, once in 1980 and once in 1986, she noted feeling uncomfortable after the Board’s actions.

“Knowing that the Board of Visitors of your own college even considered expelling you doesn’t make you feel very welcome,” Kaemmerle said in a February 21, 1995 interview with The VirginianPilot.

Kaemmerle wrote a letter to College President Tom Graves after her visit in 1980, asking the Board of Visitors to “disavow the action that it took in 1945.” She emphasized in her interview with Winiecki that she hadn’t used the word “apologize” in this request. Though Rector Edward Brickell did respond to her letter, he supposedly told her that the Board would not be notified of this request.

“With William and Mary’s glorious history, it’s hard to believe it would not leave its own record untouched,” Kaemmerle told Winiecki.

In an opinion piece published on November 14, 1986, Flat Hat staff called for the College to issue a formal apology to Kaemmerle for their actions in 1945.

“When we contacted present Board’s Rector, Anne Dobie Peebles, about a possible apology, she said that she believes it is ‘not appropriate for current Boards to judge the actions of previous Boards.’ She couldn’t be more wrong. The case is painfully straightforward: the editorial was neither slanderous nor libelous, yet it cost Kaemmerle her job and this newspaper its editorial freedom,” the unsigned opinion piece read.

As stated in the December 5, 1986 editorial titled “The Kammerle Affair,” the Student Association Council pushed for the Board to apologize to Kaemmerle. They succeeded, with an approved resolution calling for the Board to “make amends” for the incident in 1945 as “an acknowledgement of current attitudes towards desegregation and minority enrollment.”

After the apology from the Board in December, Peebles wrote a letter to Kaemmerle, noting that the College “continues to attract people with courage and vision, and [she] would be gratified at the changes on campus over the past 40 years.”

“As an individual, I feel personally reconciled with my alma mater,” Kammerle said in a December 6, 1986 article from Associated Press News.

After her time at the College, Kaemmerle began her career at the Freedom House in New York City. Kaemmerle later became the Director of Mass Communications for the National Conference of Christians and Jews and eventually stepped up to the role of television producer for the National Broadcast Company. She was awarded the Peabody Award for her work in television.

In 1950, Kaemmerle married Henry Quinto, who served on multiple boards and commissions in Tucson, Arizona. In 1962, the couple moved to Tucson. Quinto was active in Democratic politics, an avid supporter of Planned Parenthood of Southern Arizona, and an assistant in the formation of the Tucson Urban League. Kaemmerle supported these efforts and assisted with the foundation of the League.

“He and Marilyn dedicated their lives to bringing that sense of justice to this community. Their contributions were simply phenomenal,” said Virginia Yrun, Executive Director of Planned Parenthood.

In 2001, six years after Quinto’s death in 1995, Kaemmerle passed away.

Kaemmerle and Quinto are survived by their son, David, a Los Angeles attorney; their daughter, Elizabeth, an architect in Portland; son-in-law, James Stamp, a biotechnologist; a grandson, Gareth; and granddaughters Emma and Carys.

David recalled his parents’ influence on his and his sister’s upbringing, particularly in the context of their frequent efforts at inclusivity on a broad scale.

“My sister and I were deeply influenced by the examples both my parents set. Knowing that they had both stood up for morality has certainly influenced my outlook on life and has led me to attempt to lead a life they would be proud of,” David said.

When reflecting on her 1945 publication, Kaemmerle noted that she would not have written the editorial in the same manner as she had.

In a December 6, 1986 interview with the Associated Press, Kaemmerle said, “If I knew then what I know now, I most certainly would not have written the editorial in the manner that I wrote it because it’s not my style and not my intention to be confrontational. I would have wanted to have handled the content, the ideas, but I most certainly would not have wanted to do it in a way that would arouse antagonism.”

Despite these reflections, her original contention serves to exemplify activism in the College’s history.

Images Courtesy of William & Mary Libraries and Digital Archive

A L T

E R

Background Image Courtesy of Unsplash

In this “Alter Egos” shoot, multiple versions of each person represent alternate personas, showing how selfcomplexity is reflected not only through style but also through art.

Leyah Owusu ’23

Flat Hat Magazine Style Editor

Style by JR Herman ’24

Hannah McMinn ’26

Inaya Mir ’25

Leyah Owusu ’23

Clara Whitney ’25

Production by Marion Biondi ’24

Leyah Owusu ’23

Makeup by Rachel Bardon ’23

Riley Moffatt ’24

Julia Varner ’25

Modeled by Atari Vizcarra Abundo ’25

Logan Mischke ’26

Elise Tsao ’25

Photos by JR Herman ’24

Art by JR Herman ‘24

Zoe Davis ‘25

Holi Raparaoelina’23

Design by India Turner ‘24

APHANTASIA

Story, Graphics, and Design by JR Herman ‘24

Photo by Zachary Lutzky ‘24

Ihave aphantasia, the complete inability to visualize. If you tell me to close my eyes and imagine an apple, all I will see is black.

It’s not that I don’t know what an apple is — I can recognize apples just as well as the next person (weird flex?). But if you ask me to “picture” or “imagine” an apple, at no point do I see one in my mind. I think to myself the word “apple,” know that it is round, red or green, that it has a stem and a sticker if it’s from the grocery store. So yes, before you ask, I know what an apple looks like.

It’s not just apples, either. Ask me to imagine trees, the Wren Building, squirrels, my childhood home, my own face, even. If I close my eyes, no matter how hard I try to “imagine,” no matter how long I stare beforehand, trying to memorize every detail, I will only see black.

If you’re in the 98% who can visualize (and have never heard of aphantasia), you’re probably thinking, “That’s a thing?” You probably can’t imagine life without being able to visualize.

If you’re in the 2% who can’t visualize (and have never heard of aphantasia), you’re probably thinking, “That’s not how everyone thinks?” You probably can’t imagine life being able to visualize.

I was one month shy of my 21st birthday when I realized that I had aphantasia. That the way I experience the world — my normal, which I just assumed was everyone’s normal — was far from the norm.

Growing up, certain things never made sense. Something here, something there, but never enough for me to really start asking questions.

I am a child and cannot sleep. “Count sheep,” my mom suggests. “Or imagine you’re on a beach.” I try “counting sheep” by thinking, one sheep, two sheep, three sheep, four sheep. I imagine being on a beach by thinking, I am on a beach. There are no sheep jumping fences, no flip-flops in the sand — there is only blackness narrated by my inner voice. I think to myself, this is a really dumb way to fall asleep. I wonder how it works for anyone.

I am in middle school, reading poetry in English class. “It’s so vivid, I can literally see it in my head,” someone says. I think to myself, what kind of B.S. brown-nosing is this?

I am a senior in high school. My Calculus teacher

is making fun of me for writing out every step of the equation, for turning in three, four, five extra sheets of paper with each test. “Just do the little steps in your head,” she says. “It’s easier.”

“I can’t,” I say.

“What do you mean, you can’t? You just move the numbers over in your head.”

I am a sophomore in college. I tell my mom about this cute guy who hit on me after class.

“What does he look like?” she asks.

“He’s really cute. He’s got brown hair.”

“And?”

“He has a mustache. And he’s fit.” My mom keeps pressing me for details I can’t give.

“Just replay it in your head.”

“I can’t,” I say.

“Try to pay more attention next time. Don’t be so nervous.”

“Ok,” I say. “I’ll try.” I go to his Instagram to find his picture.

It’s the summer before my junior year. I have an entertaining dream and tell my friend about it. “Wouldn’t it be cool if people could actually daydream like they dream at night? Like literally see it in your head and all, you know?”

My friend doesn’t understand. I try to re-explain, to no avail. “Never mind,” I say.

I google it and find an old Quora post about this thing called aphantasia. I decide I couldn’t have gone my whole life not realizing there was something wrong with me. I’m “normal.” Plus, I know what an apple looks like. I close out of the tab and forget about it.

It’s Fall 2022, and I am a junior. It’s the first day of classes, and I’m taking Psychology as a Natural Science for my COLL 200 NQR requirement. We begin by learning memorization strategies and study techniques to help us ace the upcoming semester’s material. “Visualization is one of the best ways to remember information,” the professor lectures, suggesting that we take what

we want to learn and transform it into a mental image. Our textbook suggests the same. With study strategies like that, no wonder so many people get terrible grades, I think.

A month and a half later, our professor is lecturing about dreams. I get distracted on my laptop and end up on the same Quora page. This time, though, I take the test.

1.Close your eyes.

2.Imagine a red apple.

3.Open your eyes. Which number best represents what you saw in your “mind’s eye?”

The last option. Nothing. The abyss. I do five more tests. Nothing. The abyss.

I still don’t entirely believe it. I tell my psychology professor after class that I read there’s this thing called aphantasia and that I think I may have it. I ask him if people can actually “see” things in their minds. He says yes. I thank him and leave.

I make my closest friends take the aphantasia test, this one with a red square instead of an apple. Every single one sees the square. Every single one. I wonder if they don’t understand the instructions. Are they just thinking of a red square, but not actually seeing it?

“Are you sure you’re doing it right? Like, you actually see that, not just know what a red square looks like?”

“Yeah, of course I see it??????” they respond.

I wonder if they’re gaslighting me for the hell of it. That’s when I tell them that I can’t see it. They think I’m gaslighting them. When they realize I’m serious, I’ve been transformed into some sort of

circus freak. “You can think, right?” one of them asks, not joking.

“Yes, I am able to think,” I reply, somewhat offended.

That night, we have a magazine photoshoot. “This picture will be living in my mind rent-free,” one of my friends says. I don’t say anything but think about it for the rest of the night, still in shock.

Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance.

The next day, I go to my 11 a.m. class and talk with another friend.

“I just found out yesterday that I have aphantasia.” I expect him to be concerned that I’m dying of some rare disease he hadn’t heard of, but maybe because he’s pre-med and because his thengirlfriend was a Psych major, he nonchalantly says that his girlfriend was trying to convince him the other day that he had it, but he didn’t believe her. I make him take the test.

“I know what an apple is, JR.” He rolls his eyes.

“So do I,” I say. “But can you see it in your head?” He shakes his head no. “Look at my face right now, then close your eyes. Can you see it? Imagine your parents’ faces? Your own face? Can you SEE them?”

“No.”

“Then you have it,” I say.

When I see him next class, he tells me he couldn’t stop thinking about it the whole day, couldn’t

focus, couldn’t study. Mourned the entire day, just like I had. Months later, I text him one night, asking if he ever asked his family if they had it too — he decided against it because he didn’t want to “introduce them to the horror of it��.”

Sometimes I feel guilty for dragging him along on the Aphantasia Express, but it’s nice to know someone else who understands all the things that never made sense. To vent, to complain, to wonder, to laugh, to imagine (without pictures) together. What are the odds? Same orientation group, two classes together, both among the 2% with aphantasia, all by chance.

We both could have gone our entire lives not knowing, which, if I had to bet, is probably the case for most with aphantasia. After all, we’ve spent our entire lives in our own minds, assuming that our normal is “normal,” when really, our normal is something most don’t even know is even possible. “Picture this,” “my life flashed before my eyes,” “visualize,” “mind’s eye,” and “looks different in my head” were, to me, just figures of speech.

It surprised me how all of my friends apologized when they found out, like aphantasia is such a terrible, terrible thing.

“I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine what that’s like,” my friend with diabetes says. I simultaneously feel both privileged and pitiful. I’m so sorry that he has to watch what he eats, that he has to prick his finger, that he has to get shots all the time. I can’t imagine what that’s like, how hard it is, but he says it’s ok, that he just feels bad for me.

“Don’t worry about me — it’s not that bad,” I say, trying to make him (and maybe myself) feel better. “Aphantasia is just a different way of experiencing the world. Not necessarily good. Not necessarily bad, you know? Plus, I’ve never known

any different. It’s my normal. Don’t really know any better.”

Most of the time though, I do feel like I’m missing out. I will never understand what it means to “daydream,” will never create a world in my head, and will never “see” what you’re describing, no matter how vivid the language is. I can recognize but will never recall a face from memory, whether it’s that of my seventh-grade crush, my best friend, my parents, my future husband, or my future child. My own. If I don’t have a photo and it’s not in front of my eyes, it’s gone unless I dream it.

So, most days, I do wish I didn’t have aphantasia. But sometimes I wonder.

If it weren’t for aphantasia, would I even have been the same person I am now?

Would I have been a writer? Would I have loved languages like I do? Would I be just as good at banter? I can’t help but wonder if my love for words was shaped, subconsciously, by my inability to visualize. A by-product, perhaps. I couldn’t count sheep, so I conjugated French verbs. Je sais. Tu sais. Il/elle/on sait. Nous savons. Vous savez. Ils/elles savent. Fell asleep to French lyrics running through my head, to poetry, story plots, “daydreams” that read like scripts. Compensation, perhaps.

If I could choose to know or not know (savoir ou ne pas savoir?), I would choose knowing. Now, I know my strengths and my limitations, and why some things just never made sense. Why I am the way I am. The knowledge, though, is bittersweet, tinged with what I now know I’m missing, imagining what I cannot imagine.

When I close my eyes, you might as well play Simon & Garfunkel.

Hello, darkness, my old friend.

HELLO, DARKNESS

Oh St Andrews

Story and Photos by Matt Kern ‘25

Image

After spending my freshman year at the College of William and Mary, I uprooted myself from my new family and moved across the Atlantic — 3,537 miles away — to Scotland. When I applied to the Joint Degree Programme with the University of St Andrews, I knew it was going to be an amazing adventure: two years at two separate universities, two distinctly different college experiences merged into a singular degree. In this coastal oasis, I have found another community that I can honestly call home.

extended hand, and we immediately began

KKnight to E4. Checkmate.” My head fell into my hands. How did I not see that coming? I reached out and shook my opponent’s extended hand, and we immediately began

recapping the game — more fittingly, the “war” — that we just contended in over the timeworn

wooden table in the corner of Molly Malone’s. We laughed, blaming our blunders on the last pint, and got up to watch a game around which a crowd was forming. Even at a pub social, the competitive energy of the students is palpable.

At St Andrews, the dozen or so bars are the heart of the University’s social scene. These provide a wide variety of social atmospheres, ranging from stereotypical pubs like Molly’s (ironically, an Irish pub) to modern social clubs like the Vic, which nearly mimics the fun and intensity of a frat party dance floor back at the College of William and Mary. Not to brag, but we also have the Union, a University-run venue for students. Despite all of these options, however, I have ultimately gravitated towards calmer waters to satiate my social appetite. Aside from the Chess Society, my socializing primarily consists of hanging out with friends in our flats, having what I like to call “lava lamp conversations” — that is, contemplating life’s greatest and stupidest questions. Just chillaxing.

I’m sure this medley of bars and clubs sounds like heaven to the more socially-inclined students back at the College. In fact, it was for me ... at least initially. However, it only took a few weekends for me to begin missing Williamsburg, where the social scene was filled with familiar faces at every turn. Instead, I found that the large number of bars in my new home stratified the student population; the chances of randomly stumbling upon friends throughout the night became slim to none. In this aspect, the sense of “community” just could not stand up to the College.

Much like at the College, the students here prioritize academics above anything else. Academics are comparatively rigorous, yet structured completely differently. Each of my three

courses is graded based on three major assignments, a rough total of about nine assignments per semester, which makes life as a St Andrews student a double-edged sword. On the one hand, the lack of busy work — which would typically cushion one’s final grade — opens up immense free time to self-manage in whichever ways we desire. On the other hand, though, each of my tests and essays carries significantly more weight, leaving little room for error. And I have to manage my own time productively — at least, that’s the goal, right? Adapting to these changes has required a radical mentality shift, from following a syllabus to actively researching on my own. Of course, learning is always the foremost goal whenever I enter a classroom or lecture hall, but without the structure employed at the College, the onus of study is more heavily placed on us students. This burden can be incredibly stressful if you do not have pressure-release valves built into your schedule, or, conversely, if you mismanage your time with too much leisure. This is, in part, why the social scene is so lively. The bulk of my free time is spent in the gym, playing chess, and hanging out with my incredible girlfriend (who is also in the JDP). This balance between stellar academics, spirited extracurriculars, and social outlets has led St Andrews to be consistently ranked #1 among UK universities in student satisfaction. When situated in the beautiful, historical setting of this medieval town — with its iconic quad, cobblestone alleyways, and sprawling golf courses — I find myself at peace. It will be bittersweet to uproot myself once again when I return to Virginia for my senior year.

With that being said, my homesickness for the College comes in waves, with no rhyme or reason. On the walk to town from my flat, I sometimes daydream about the campus and the people I left behind in Williamsburg. It’s a secluded bubble of college kids doing college kid things, which I quite enjoyed during my freshman year. At St Andrews, the school buildings are integrated into the town, which

means that the University lacks a self-contained campus. Those who prefer big city life will be disappointed by this quaint college town; most students live and eat in accommodations outside of the town center, only coming into town for the day to attend classes and get some studying done in libraries or cafes. I’ve found that people here walk around with an air of purpose, as if they are always racing from point A to point B. The stop-and-chats that I enjoyed while strolling around the Sunken Gardens, or aimlessly walking the countless paths throughout campus are a distant memory, replaced by brief remarks or a friendly wave. Please don’t interpret this as a completely bad thing. Students here are not more cold-hearted or pretentious than anywhere else — it has just become clear that the structure of the “campus” dictates the pace of life in this coastal oasis. I knew what I was signing up for by applying to the Joint Degree Programme; the distinct differences between the University and the College are precisely why I applied in the first place.

In the months prior to my arrival at St Andrews, I was filled with excitement — underpinned by a twinge of anxiety — about my adventures ahead. I pictured myself taking notes within the ancient walls of the Quad, the picturesque university buildings akin to those of Hogwarts. And it has certainly lived up to the hype beyond that. During this past school year, I have grown immensely as a person. Immersed in the global melting pot of students and faculty with such unique experiences, I feel like I have gained more direction in my life and studies. The other day, I participated in a workshop at 9:30 a.m. for my anthropology classes entitled “Mediterranean Communities,” which required me to walk 25 minutes in the Scottish rain, something which has become so much a facet of daily life at St Andrews that I barely thought about it until my professor stopped me at the door, smiling, and requesting that I remove my coat and dry off before entering the room. “Welcome! But get out,” he said, and we laughed together.

I was eager to get my hands on some archaeological material in the backroom of the Martyrs Kirk Research Library, but it wasn’t until it was in front of me that the ancient pottery came to life. Along with the five other students present, we carefully picked up each piece and examined it, speculating about their context and purpose thousands of years prior. It was truly exhilarating to handle these simple yet breathtaking objects under the guidance of my professor. The experience has invigorated me as I prepare for my archaeological field school this summer. In these small class settings, it is clear that the faculty truly cares about their students.

Staring up at the night sky, I’m flooded with warmth and gratitude. The stars shine brightly out here, a far cry from the urbanization that has engulfed many universities. This past February, the town was even treated with front-row tickets to the Northern Lights (although, somewhat unfortunately, I was in Berlin at the time). The beautiful, frigid beaches of East and West Sands feel as though they have been untouched by human hands since the school was founded in 1413. I will never have a standard college experience, but that is okay with me. In two years’ time, I will have two alma maters, two homes away from home.

Oh, St Andrews,

You truly are sweet, you’re a beautiful place, with your cobblestone streets, and Queen Mary’s tree.

The sway of the tide like the beat of your heart we arrived starry-eyed, but that was only the start.

I dread the day that I must say goodbye, but for now, you’re my home, and it’s been a hell of a ride.

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From the Rising of the Sun to Its Setting

Ethan Kula ’24 explores the bridge between East and West laid down by fortune cookies from Sadler Center Court. Even though their fortunes are meant to be a comforting act of trust in one’s future told from the East, he discovers that the Western mindset towards the future has seeped into the heart of the fortune cookie, betraying any pretense of its Asian origin.

Story by Ethan Kula '24

Graphics by Arianna Stewart ‘24 and JR Herman ‘24

You will get to travel the world.

An important person will offer you support.

Cherish every moment with your loved ones.

Always try to finish what you started.

Do not underestimate yourself, human beings have unlimited potential. Your heart is your greatest asset.

Seeking to know my fortune, as a young man might, I jumped at the chance to grab fortune cookies from Sadler Center Court when I saw them out for the taking. The writings above come from the nine fortune cookies I collected.

Fortune cookies are fun — their taste is inoffensive, their fragmentation tactually pleasing, and their words reassuring. But these words on the little strips of white paper found within the cookies bother me. Why do we in the West like this treat from “the Orient?” Why do we like it even though we know that it is not even authentically Asian, but written and sold by businessmen just as white as the paper on which the words are written?

We in the West lack any kind of extant fortune-telling tradition. Yes, we have psychic madams who read crystal balls, run their fingers along the lines in your palms, or read your tea leaves, but they are oddities, seen as an entertaining curiosity even more so than a fortune cookie. We have astrological signs, but these tell more about one’s character than the future. And astrology seems to be primarily ubiquitous among college-aged women — the other half of the population cares little about whether they have a ram or a scorpion as their representative among the

stars. Religious traditions may have devices like Divine Providence, but these do not tell us our individual fortunes.

What we want is knowledge of what will happen to us as individuals. We seek a very specific glance into the future. I cannot speak for others, but as an undergraduate student, I would like nothing more than a peek into what will become of my life. Will I end up going to law school as I plan? Will I leave the College and earn a high income? Will my labors performed here ultimately matter? I am old enough that what I do matters but young enough that there is still wiggle room to change my path. Where is one like me meant to see what kind of fortune will befall me? In a bland, ostensibly Asian cookie distributed by the dining staff at Sadler, apparently.

Because there is no Western way to know our fortunes, we look outside our own sphere, hoping that perhaps an outsider’s view can see something that we cannot. We look eastwards, to what used to be called “the mysterious Orient,” a place unlike our own. That place, in our minds, abounds with truth-tellers and soothsayers and wise old men with long beards who lived long ago. They had names like Confucius and Sun Tzu and could read tea leaves and knew the Tao (“the Way”). To us,

A person is never too old to learn.

Do not be afraid to take that big step.

these fortune-telling traditions are not relics or oddities; instead, they underpin a civilization with entirely different roots from our own. A crystal ball might predict a glorious future, but there remains a nagging voice in the back of our minds reminding us that this is a farce, that there still is no certainty in our lives. But with an Eastern fortune, the voice in the back of our mind says otherwise: “This civilization is equal to our own. Perhaps it knows something we do not.”

And we also look to the Orient because it is in the direction of the rising sun. The term “the Orient” comes from the Latin word “oriens,” which means the “rising sun.” Because we are so anxious to know our fortunes, we look eastward, where the sun shines first, hoping that even these few hours of foreknowledge bestow some kind of insight before we ourselves have to face the uncertainty revealed by the same light.

The funny thing about the fortunes I received was that they were rather lousy as actual “fortunes.”

Only two actually predict the future: “You will get to travel the world” and “An important person will offer you support.” Those are certainties, and I am supposed to be comforted by the fact that they will happen.

But you can tell a Westerner wrote these because of how quickly he grew unsatisfied with trusting these premonitions which he could not empirically confirm. Quickly these “fortunes” devolved into vague platitudes and actionable advice.

“Your heart is your greatest asset” — I can act on that and use my heart to make my own fortune.

“A person is never too old to learn” — I can still learn and grow in knowledge.

“Always try to finish what you started” — I can improve my future fortune by finishing things.

These do not require trust, these require action. They do not comfort us with what will happen to us but instead, what we can make happen in the world. Perhaps an accounting major noticed that I only listed eight fortunes at the start of the article despite saying I opened nine cookies; this is correct. Most tellingly, the ninth fortune cookie contained no slip of paper. Some might read it as a lack of fortune in my life, but I interpret it as the most accurate fortune yet: “Do something, anything!”

We look towards the land of the rising sun because the only thing about the future that

we know with certainty is that the sun will set on our lives. We want to live NOW before the horizon, like some mustachioed Chinese New Year dragon swallowing the sun.

We cannot change this desire. We do not trust a piece of paper — though it is branded with an exotic pedigree — to make us comfortable with our future any more than we trust a soothsayer, a star sign, or sacred scripture.

We want to will that fortune into existence, and the Westerners writing these slips of paper tell us how we can bring that fortune into existence with the few hours of daylight we have left.

The cookies were bland, and my heart and stomach were left equally unsatisfied.

We are our own worst critics. Join Emma Henry ’25 as she discusses her journey with trichotillomania, a compulsive hair-pulling disorder.

Ihave been in a fierce battle with my hair for as long as I can remember. Together, we have performed a cyclical dance of tearing each other apart and piecing ourselves back together year after year for over a decade. I have been incredibly open about our feud for the past five years, but I’ve never written about it for an audience of strangers until now.

I have a disorder called trichotillomania (trich for short). Trich is classified under the umbrella term of Body-Focused Repetitive Behaviors and describes the irresistible compulsion to pull out one’s own hair. According to the TLC Foundation for BFRBs, around 1 in 50 people may experience trich in their lifetime — aren’t I lucky? I was diagnosed with trich when I was about eight years old after my parents confronted me about noticeable balding and thinning patches of hair on my head. At the time, I was so afraid of what I was doing to myself that I feigned complete ignorance. This led to a series of doctor’s appointments that finally resulted in a confession. I was the culprit.

The only way to describe both my family’s and my emotions after receiving an official diagnosis was fright with a sprinkle of relief. My diagnosis had no treatment other than various kinds of therapy. Trich was something we had never heard of before, and I’m sure my parents were not only worried about how I felt but also how other people might treat me. It’s hard enough for young girls to navigate adolescent life, let alone without a full head of hair.

Many women see their hair as a defining aspect of their femininity, and I can’t blame them for that. For me, it is not important to dwell on the minutiae of trich as a disorder; instead, I hope to share what I have learned as a woman who lacks much of her hair and as a person who hopes to inspire conversations about mental health.

A brief overview of my childhood with trich includes a closet full of bandanas, headbands, and hats. I went through three therapists before meeting my current one, and I probably tried every strategy in the book to curb my hairpulling. When I was about nine, I began wearing a custom hairpiece after finding a salon that specialized in hair restoration near my hometown in Pennsylvania. Love and Hair Peace was — and still is — a sanctuary for people suffering from all kinds of hair loss. Cassie Angelucci, the

LL

Story and Photos by Emma Henry ‘25

Graphic by Zoe Davis ‘25

salon’s fearless founder and head stylist, has watched me grow into who I am today, and Ronnie Connelly, my current stylist, consistently inspires me to laugh through life and reminds me to be gentle with myself.

Finally, we’ve reached the big theme: being gentle. It has taken me over a decade to narrow down a single statement that describes everything I have ever wanted to say to my brain, and that is what I’ve come up with. My dad always tells me that I am my own worst critic, and he could not be more correct. I have avoided telling new friends and significant others about my hair loss until it is absolutely necessary, due to my fear of judgment and criticism.

I do, however, pride myself on being somewhat of an open book on social media. I have often talked about my experiences with trich on Instagram, but the reality of confronting it in person is something I am still trying to cope with. I will sit here and tell you everything I know about scalp health and hair growth, but I am terrified of anyone seeing my hair in its natural state. To me, this circles back to my battle with expressing femininity and the anger I have toward my brain.

I won’t lie — I’ve had countless nights where I’ve sobbed into pillows and screamed into the void because of the damage my hair has experienced. Sometimes, I still cry after I shower when I see the impact of my trich head-on. I’m sure if you sift through my bookshelves, you will find old journals making clear how much I hate the lack of control I experience and the way it feels as if my brain has hijacked my hands. My trich has manifested as what feels like a separate entity in my head, something that pulls the strings without asking me first. I am

still angry, and I am still sad that my memories of childhood are always a little bit tainted with an obsession over my hair and the experience of clawing the damage off my bedroom floor. I viscerally remember the fear of people seeing me without a headband and the panic of covering up thinning patches of hair however I could.

However, what I have realized is that trich might be with me forever. A lot of people have tried to tell me that it’s not a part of me, but I think it might be, and that’s okay. I have learned so much from experiencing hair loss at a young age, and I am continuing to grow every single day. If I cannot live without trich being a part of my life, I might as well learn to be kind to it, and hopefully, it learns to be kind to me too. I have met amazing people, had healing experiences that culminated in healthy hair growth and mental stability, and become an advocate for destigmatizing BFRBs. Above all, I am learning that my beauty is not defined by the hair on my head.

For me, trich has increased the ways I am grateful. Of course, I will always wish I had learned these lessons in another way, but life goes on. I laugh, cry, and experience beautiful emotions. I make room for myself to be happy and proud of how far I have come. I try to no longer define my self-worth by what is on

my head. I celebrate small accomplishments, and I take care of myself. I am gentle. I am gentle because I am tired of hating myself for something that I have no control over. I hope to be an advocate not only for redefining the way we see others but also for improving how we see ourselves. I don’t want to spread the message that being sad and angry with your brain is unacceptable, because I feel that way all the time. I do believe though that we are always growing. We are in a relationship with ourselves as much as we are with other people, and sometimes, there are a lot of bumps in the road.

I hope that people find communities in which they feel loved, regardless of the things they may feel ashamed or self-conscious about. I hope that I can wake up every day and know that no matter how angry I am at what is on my head, I am grateful to be breathing and surrounded by people who love me no matter how much I obsess over my hair. Learning to be gentle with myself has been one of the most challenging, yet rewarding, mental journeys of my life.

Of course, this piece would be incomplete without mentioning the support of my family — for every appointment, bedtime cry, and hug, I am forever grateful. When I forget to be gentle with myself, they remind me.

Reflections on Egypt

Story, Photos, and Design by India Turner ‘24

This past January, my parents and I visited the place they had met 25 years prior: Cairo, Egypt. While all my travels offer insight into the country I am visiting, this trip in particular gave me the opportunity to see what I had learned in history and government classes in person. Egypt has been a vibrant place for over 5,000 years, and I was able to experience the brilliance of both ancient and modern Egyptians.

Growing up, my house was full of Egyptian crafts, from woven bowls and tapestries to mudmen figurines and Wissa Wassef pottery. My parents met in Cairo 25 years ago while working abroad, and they always spoke of Egypt with the utmost fondness. They had sailed feluccas and traveled the country, eating baba ganoush and drinking Stella Local with their Egyptian friends. So many of my parents’ best stories originated from their time in Egypt. Maybe that was what sparked my interest in the region, subconsciously.

We were supposed to go to Egypt in March 2020, but when COVID-19 hit, we delayed the trip. We were finally able to visit in January 2023. Traveling there was particularly special not only because my parents had lived there but also because of the specific courses I have taken at the College. Not only am I particularly interested in (and have taken classes on) the Middle East from a cultural and political standpoint but I also had taken Deciphering Ancient Egypt I in the Fall of 2022, where I got to learn both about Ancient Egyptian culture and hieroglyphs. While in Egypt, I learned both about current political dilemmas from Egyptians and about Egypt’s past from ancient monuments — I’ve never had my travels connect so deeply with my academic interests, and I benefited greatly from this connection.

We spent two weeks traveling from Cairo down through Luxor, Thebes, and Aswan. We traveled to mosques, Ancient Egyptian temples, and places my parents encountered 20 years prior.

I was able to read passages written by people who lived over 4,000 years ago and some of the earliest preserved human writings.

Perhaps the most striking part of the trip was the number of people we ran into that my parents remembered, even two decades after they had lived there. When we went to the Wissa Wassef Arts Center, we met the woman who had crafted the ceramic bowls my parents bought 20 years earlier. We also met the woman who spent months creating a rug that now hangs in our house. She now designs even more elaborate and beautiful tapestries than the one she had made for my parents when she was a young girl. And when we visited my mom’s old apartment building, the same bawab (house/ gatekeeper) was there, now fully grown. He and my mom talked about people who had lived in the building when they both resided there.

My travels have also aided me in my classes — traveling to Egypt, after all, gave me the opportunity to read passages in tombs and see statues that we had discussed in class. The most surreal experience was when my Deciphering Ancient Egypt II class did a virtual tour of a pharaoh’s tomb, and I realized that I had actually visited that tomb in real life. All the sites we have since discussed are ones that I visited only a couple of months ago.

The people I spoke to in Egypt also helped me gain a better understanding of the country’s current political landscape. From tour guides, I was able to learn about interactions between

Islam and Christianity in the country as well as gain insight into the factors that shape Egypt’s culture and politics today. Instead of reading about economic inequality, I saw people transporting goods by donkey next to millionaires in tangerine-colored Lamborghinis. I saw “Trash City,” full of individuals making a living solely off of selling items that had been thrown away, while on the other side of town, grandiose mansions loomed.

Instead of learning about the effects of the Arab Spring second-hand like in class, I saw the prison where political prisoners were kept. I witnessed firsthand how security has changed

post-Arab Spring, from the watchtowers and security checks to the police outposts that we encountered every five minutes or so.

While my courses gave me insight into Egypt’s culture and politics, these insights were never quite as clear as they were when I visited. Between my parents’ time living there, speaking with tour guides, and my classes at the College, I have been able to learn so much about this incredible country as well as gain a greater appreciation for it as the place where my parents met.

MY TRIBE

MY RESPONSIBILTY

A HOME WITHOUT HAZING

WILLIAM & MARY

wmhazingprevention

Being demeaned or exposed to harm should never be part of your W&M experience. Scan the QR code for hazing prevention resources, including student organization conduct histories.

Story by Leena El-Mohandes ‘24 Design by Andrew Johnston ‘25

you’re when tired sick &

Studying abroad invokes a range of emotions, including exhaustion and burnout. Continue reading for a brutally honest appraisal of a semester abroad in Granada, Spain.

Ihaven’t spoken Spanish since I was a sophomore in high school. I passed Spanish IV and never took a language class again.

Fast forward five years, and I decided to study abroad for five months in southern Spain, where the Andalucían accent is thickest and la malafollá is most prominent, the latter being a notorious attachment to irony and black humor that comes across as unwelcoming and brash to a foreigner. Nevertheless, I was determined to truly assimilate into a foreign culture.

Besides some prior research, I didn’t know what to expect from my semester abroad. What is the American study abroad experience supposed to be? Visiting as many cities as possible while completing homework on buses, trains, and planes? Going out every night and finding fellow English speakers to help me navigate through unfamiliar places? For so long, this stereotype has infiltrated the value of what studying abroad could grant; it has twisted the concept of opportunity

to some kind of expectation that, for most people, is either unrealistic or superficial. How can we characterize a semester’s worth of experiences in various countries and cultures for students of all subjects under one blanket, claiming “this is what it should be?” We can’t.

This was an exhausting train of thought for me before coming to Granada. I was constantly considering cities I wanted to visit, activities I wanted to do, and foods I needed to try. Then there were the additional stressors of travel — expenses, nightlife, visitors, and, of course, my studies. Maybe it’s because of social media, or maybe it’s because we were cooped up in our houses for a year, but it seems that among American university students, studying abroad in Europe has become less about immersion into a specific culture and more about visiting as many nearby countries as possible. But doesn’t that fracture the value of studying abroad? If I’m not in Spain for half of the time that I’m here, how can I say that I truly allowed myself to live life as a Spaniard?

Since I arrived, I’ve considered the most valuable moments from my time studying abroad. These, of course, vary from person to person, but for me, they aren’t the aspects of my experiences that people usually ask me about. I’ve found the most common questions I get are, “Have you visited

many countries?” and “Is it cheap?” In case you’re curious, the answer to the first question is “I suppose,” and the answer to the second is “No.”

It’s true — this experience is once in a lifetime. You may be lucky enough to have the opportunity to study, work, or live abroad again, but a semester of undergraduate studies is a very different exposure to the world than that of any other world traveler.

Study abroad burnout is not something that I’d heard of before coming here, but I’ve found that it is very much real and consists of three parts, stages if you will: culture shock, homesickness, and exhaustion. Naturally, these can overlap and provoke each other, but they are ultimately subsequent.

It’s true — this experience is once in a lifetime. You may be lucky enough to have the opportunity to study, work, or live abroad again, but a semester of undergraduate studies is a very different exposure to the world than that of any other world traveler.

Culture shock is the most predictable hurdle one will face abroad. Spaniards have a very different lifestyle compared to Americans. Punctuality is unimportant, social life is of much higher significance than professional life (lively conversation is highly valued), and personal space does not exist. Everything meal-related occurs several hours later in the day than it typically does in the States.

La sobremesa — post-meal conversation — can last well into the night after dinner (which already begins around 9 p.m. or later). These are unfamiliar customs to one used to an American lifestyle, but they are far from insurmountable obstacles. In fact, among my friends, we’ve found that culture shock tends to be a rather brief hindrance in the overall experience. After you’ve bested any jet lag, and especially once you’ve established a routine, culture shock pretty much fades into the background.

Homesickness isn’t quite as easy to shake. I’ve found that it isn’t a period of time that strikes and then fades. Rather, it comes and goes with specific events or states of mind.

Personally, I’ve felt most homesick waking up in the morning. I open my eyes and stare up at an unfamiliar ceiling, hearing the neighbors on the floor below already arguing, and the cars going by outside. I miss being the first one awake in my house in Williamsburg, the birds singing as I get ready for the day and my roommates trickling out from their rooms as they get out of bed. But the feeling always passes rather quickly. I get up and wash my face, and suddenly I’m on the cobbled streets of Granada gazing at the snowy mountains of the Sierra Nevada above the city (not so different from the Appalachian Mountains that overlooked my high school), and I’m in awe that I could ever feel anything other than grateful for the opportunity to be in this amazing place.

There are days when homesickness creeps back. In brief moments of culture shock when you experience something new and foreign. On a day you didn’t sleep well the night before and you crave the comfort of home. When you get physically sick (which I guarantee you will while abroad). Homesickness will come and go but, once again, the novelty of the culture around you rescues you from falling into any deeper melancholy.

Exhaustion is the only part of burnout over which you have control. My original fear that hopping around Europe would threaten the cultural immersion I sought was very, very wrong — I’ve been able to visit multiple countries, and I’ve made so many amazing memories that I will treasure forever. I am currently writing this article in Granada, having just returned from Morocco, after having just returned from Portugal, after having just returned from Italy. And I am exhausted. I have never been happier to be home.

That’s what Granada has become to me.

It’s not just that I am now comfortable speaking Spanish, that I know the layout of much of the city, or that I feel safe walking by myself. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from being abroad, it’s that there is no place or material item that truly makes you feel at home — it’s the people. It’s the companions I’ve found from all

over the U.S. and, frankly, all over the world. It’s the pseudo-family I’ve established with my host mom and 5-year-old host sister: the meals we share together and the ensuing sobremesas.

It’s the ability to walk the city by myself, knowing that I belong in this place enough to feel comfortable and content with only the streets and thousands of (mostly) Spanish strangers as company. It’s the locals, the language, and the culture (despite la malafollá). Did I have to

surmount culture shock and homesickness to feel this way? Of course. The fundamental thing, though, is that when I am exhausted — when I’m tired from travel, school, or the return of homesickness — I don’t yearn for the States. I don’t seek my American friends. I don’t call my mom three times a day.

I look up at the Sierra Nevada, the snow-capped mountaintops peaking above the city, and I feel wide awake.

REFLECTION short story contest

This semester, Flat Hat Magazine held its third short story contest open to all students at the College of William and Mary. Participants were asked to write a short story based on the song “Reflection” from Disney’s Mulan. Katie Kauppi ’23 and Mateus Dutra ’23 wrote stories incorporating literal and metaphorical reflections on the self. Kauppi evokes nostalgic simplicity in her story of a young adult reflecting on life through the lenses of a father’s sunglasses, while Dutra examines the experience of self-reflection at a pond. Congratulations to our winners, and thank you to everyone who submitted!

— Emma Saunders ‘24 Flat Hat Magazine Short Story Contest Organizer

The Birth of Resolve

By Mateus Dutra ’23

I stood at the edge of the pond — the sky behind my head looked as blue as the water’s surface. I gazed at my unblemished skin and fine dark eyes for what felt like hours. A single plum blossom leaf floated earthward, creating a gentle ripple and softening my image all around. The straight edge of my jaw and the soft lines of my lips all swirled and melted into the rest of me. How jealous I am of my reflection! How easily it remakes itself, how quickly! I picked up the leaf that had drifted my way; maroon, almost purple. Autumn is coming.

My Father’s Face and Mine

By Katie Kauppi ’23

Each year, as spring slips into summer, I am hit with memories of my family. The smell of sunscreen and the sting of cold water instantly transport me back to pool towels drying over the balcony and my mother tucking my ears into my ball cap with less-than-gentle hands.

Distinctly, I remember the joy of seeing my face reflected in my father’s sunglasses. He always wore the same pair of sapphire blue aviators with polarized lenses. When I was close to him, I could see both of our smiling faces at the same time: mine full of childlike wonder, and his beaming with aged pride.

Every summer of my youth was marked by another photo taken of us with our foreheads together, the passage of time documented as I matured and he wrinkled and grayed.

While I was going through his things last month, I found the aviators tucked away with his summer clothes. My reflection remained among the scratches in the old lenses, even without the familiar backdrop of my father’s yellowed grin.

Graphic by Grace Cohen ‘25

Design by Bailey Langhans ‘26

CONTRIBUTORS

EDITOR-IN-CHIEF

Judith-Renée Herman

CHIEF-OF-STAFF

Rebecca Altman

Vivian Hoang

EXECUTIVE EDITOR

Mary Beth Bauermann

MANAGING EDITOR

Bailey Langhans

DEPUTY EDITOR

Emma Saunders

EDITOR-AT-LARGE

Georgia Thoms

STANDARDS EDITOR

Ethan Kula

COPY CHIEF

Anu Desai

Ian Ha

CREATIVE DIRECTOR

Andrew Johnston

India Turner

PHOTO DIRECTOR

Garrett Goltermann

Zachary Lutzky

DIGITAL DIRECTOR

Livia Martinez

STYLE DIRECTOR

Inaya Mir

BEAUTY DIRECTOR

Emily Han

BUSINESS MANAGER

Madeleine Childs

PHOTO EDITOR

Ryan Goodman, Hannah Montalvo

COPY EDITOR

Portia Dai, Eleanor Grant, Nina Hoang, Matt Kern, Emelia Marshall, Connie Ryu, Lena Smith

DESIGN EDITOR

Carol Grace Andrews, Sam Beirne, Marion Biondi, Alexa Carmenates, Lulu Dawes, Katie Fitzgerald, Audrey Gunnlaugsson

STYLE EDITOR

Carson Belmear, Hannah McMinn, Leyah Owusu, Grace Rivera, Sharon Sandler, Clara Whitney

GRAPHICS EDITOR

Monica Bagnoli, Grace Cohen, Zoe Davis, Isabel Li,

Holi Raparaoelina, Syeda Safdar, Danielle Seay, Arianna Stewart

SOCIAL MEDIA EDITOR

Sam Gasteiger, Ranjani Krishnan

LEAD VIDEOGRAPHER

Meg Castonguay

PRODUCTION ASSISTANT

Rachel Bardon, Nevaeh Galluccio, Riley Moffatt, Julia Varner

CHIEF STAFF WRITER

Abigail Connelly

WRITERS

Elizabeth Brady, Mateus Dutra, Ava Edwards, Phebe Fahmy, Emma Henry, Katie Kauppi, Will Kobos, Ellie Kurlander, Leena

El-Mohandes, Taylor Robertson, Peerawut Ruangsawasdi, Prestin Tran

COVER PHOTOS

Hannah Montalvo