December 2022

COUNTERPOINT

the wellesley college journal of campus life

december 2022 volume 59 issue 2

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Thank you for picking up this copy of Counterpoint! If this is your first time meeting us: hey! (with rizz). If you already know who we are: heyyy (with magnificent rizz). We're always looking to feature and amplify voices on campus. If you're interested in submitting to Counterpoint, please don't hesitate to send us your creative nonfiction (opinion piece, satire, personal essay, and more) and creative works (photography, art, comics) to am11 or hc2 to be part of our next issue. Thanks again for supporting us. We hope you enjoy reading this issue as much as we did creating it.

SUBMISSION POLICY

The magazine accepts non-fiction submissions that are respectful, are submitted with sufficient time for editing, and have not been published elsewhere. We encourage cooperation between writers and editors but reserve the right to edit all content for length and clarity. Email submissions, ideas, or questions to the Editorsin-Chief (hc2 or am11). The views expressed in Counterpoint do not necessarily reflect the views of the magazine staff or the Wellesley community. Counterpoint does not solicit specific pieces from students, rather we publish the pieces that we receive each month and do our best to publish all appropriate submissions that we receive.

EDITORIAL STAFF

Editors-in-Chief

Managing Editor

Features Editor

Staff Editors

Alice Mei ' 23

Hailey Cho ' 23

Precious Kim '25

Natalie McDermott '25

Hailey Cho '23

Alice Mei '23

Marie Kester '23

Alina Willis '24

Lauren Witt '24

Precious Kim '25

Camryn Ward '25

Camille Newman '25

Treya Pember '25

Jennifer Doyle '25

Maple Bottinelli '26

Bella Cui '26

Ana Paku '26

Dan Lu '26

Trisha Atluri '26

Alex Greenblatt '26

Ella Knight '26

DESIGN STAFF

Jennifer Long ’25

Layout Editors

Alice Mei '23

Zainab Khan '26

Kami Lim '26

BUSINESS STAFF

Art Director

Publicity Chair

Events Manager

Treasurer

Kami Lim '26

Bella Cui '26

Trisha Atluri '26

Lauren Witt '24

Website Manager Camille Newman '25

TRUSTEES

Olivia Funderburg ’18, Allyson Larcom ’17, Hanna Day-Tenerowicz ’16, Cecilia Nowell ’16, Oset Babur ’15, Alison Lanier ’15, Kristina Costa ’09, Kara Hadge ’08

Volume 59 / Issue 2

CAMPUS LIFE

MAPLE BOTTINELLI 5 THE LOCAL MOTION FROM AN ANTHROPOLOGICAL PERSPECTIVE

ADDIE FEATURES COUNTERPOINT STAFF 10 NEW YEARS RESOLUTIONS COUNTERPOINT STAFF 11 POLL: WINTER TIME

MENTAL HEALTH

Rammstein: My Will to Go On

Content warnings: references to sexual violence, discrimination, violence

I'm having a crisis. Specifically concerning what to major in. Which translates to the rest of my life. Because my mind has warped this decision into ruling my existence thus far. College has liquidized my routines. I have graduated from the very established routine of my childhood to the eerie dawn of adulthood. The structured relationship of class and work remains, yet I only have myself to give direction and drive to my future. Since this change, I have found that instead of charging in some direction driven by righteous passion and the reassurance of post-grad opportunities, I have procured a stool with which I meander around and sit on at the mouths of various paths forward. I peer into the hazy distance and envision my futures in

BY ADDIE CRAIG

the mist. I consult my parents, friends, teachers, peers, palms, birth charts, cards, numerology, and dreams. I try to attune my ear to my heart, my head, and the chatter of gathered individuals walking past my seat.

All the while, as I sit and think, and think, and think some more, and maybe lay down for a bit, and perhaps stare at the road behind me, I form a routine of not knowing. Being in a state of flux, seemingly indefinitely, becomes a veneer, a thick coat I don to ignore the nudges from others to proceed one way or another. I can brush off well-meaning advice for passing empty sentiments and nestle deeper into my seat. It's terrible and very stupid. I very much recommend keeping your head down and following your feet to your old age.

Ending this prolonged metaphor, I do not know what I'm doing with my life. The entity of college seems to be extending whilst accelerating me to the point at which I must accept the underlying crisis that my present and past are, in fact, my life. I cannot exist on multiple planes yet also cannot exist while experiencing life from a distanced relationship akin to a protagonist and reader. Hozier was right about the whole mid-youth crisis.

Earlier this semester, I fell into a rut

Images: Jens Koch (top right), canva (bottom)

of feeling isolated, uncared for, and trapped within my consciousness. I considered transferring. I was uninspired and had bouts of aching nervousness in my stomach. I sat deep inside my head, disconnected from my body, unable to rouse my costume of bone and muscle to participate in the present.

The entire month of October felt like a steep hill I couldn't help but tumble down. I had decisions to make, and the oncoming November carried innumerable due dates. Yet I had to live actively.

My rise to action occurred a week after the so-called "Fall Break" (four days my ass) when I went to visit a friend at another college. Her parents were visiting the same weekend, and yes, you don't have to tell me that was a bad idea. I am all too aware of my mistake. Long weekend short, after her parents tagteamed the dissection of my aimlessness, I realized I never wanted to go through another conversation about not knowing what to do with my life, falling into a rut, and thinking my life is shit. Because it really isn't. What really happened was that I stopped trusting myself to lead my own life. And when I arrived back outside my dorm, I awoke with new

eyes to the beauty of my surroundings. I remembered why I chose this silly little institution as the place to pursue higher education. Wellesley does not owe me anything beyond that: an education. Recontextualizing my intentions at this stage of life helped me recognize where to allocate my focus.

As of late, I've found a distraction that blinds me while forcing my feet forward: Rammstein. I'm sure the German Neue Deutsche Härte band didn't intend for their hard metal music to be the main soundtrack for a twenty-year-old woman with an identity crisis. And especially not one of the few things that bring her joy after a period of such dismal numbness. But maybe that's exactly what Rammstein is for. Maybe within all of their songs about incest, rape, homophobia, perverts, child arsonists, prostitution, sadomasochism, old men, sailors, homosexuality, and the occasional Oedipal complex, their true ambitions are to help young women process their own mortality. Or, at least provide enough diversion that these ladies move forward instead of languishing in the suspended non-life of their college routines.

Rammstein provides delusion and escapist fantasies that make me fall in love with my own mortal condition again. Their song "Pussy" fills me with such unimaginable and inexplicable euphoria that I can't help but dance

ahead into the glooms of the future. This inner joy becomes a sustenance I can easily hand out to my friends and peers. Finding a sustainable source of happiness wrenches me out of my inner anxieties and deconstructs the false barriers that I put up between myself and others. Rammstein is the olive branch between my divided selves. In discovering a new source of enjoyment, I am reminded of my collective passions, which may or may not now include Till Lindemann's voice. And biceps. And the little wire muzzle he wore during their Sehnsucht era.

Now I'm not sure if I've totally resolved my crisis, but I feel that I have at least taken some steps forward. I have gained the strength to start moving in a direction. I must remember that I can always cross the wild to another trail, and I trust myself to find my doom.

Addie Craig '25 (ac112) has, in fact, declared an Art History major and can currently be found doing her best Till Lindemann impression to herself as she walks around campus.

The Local Motion from an Anthropological Perspective

BY MAPLE BOTTINELLI

Images: Local Motion of Boston (bottom left), Emmanuel Ikwuebgu (right), Canva (bottom right)

The Local Motion bus has a sort of hum. Not only the sound of the engine, but that of students chattering and laughing. Often, they sit in pairs, or awkwardly spaced trios where one always has to lean over another to join the conversation (this friend is also usually the one that gets squeezed off the sidewalk, doomed to walk behind the other two, chiming in here and there).

Of course, many of them are also studying, only glancing up once in a while to catch a glimpse of the passing city. Objectively, the ride is better at night, when the skyscrapers are lit and reflect on the water under the bridge. There is the clichè novel-reader, toting the likes of Brontë, or even worse, Wilde. Those intellects go into the city to sit in a coffee shop and read their books with an oat milk latte and an air of superiority, procrastinating on their English paper due the following week. The other “studiers” are no better; their destination is often the MIT library because studying at a top-five university is bound to make one smarter. This phenomenon is yet to be proven, but there’s considerable evidence to suggest it holds

Perceptibly, there remains an optimistic air across all the rows of seats, the

promise of whatever waits in the city is contagious and energizing. This scene is almost a daily occurrence, with a larger, different set of travelers on Friday afternoons and weekends. The typical Wellesley student often struggles to tear themself away from campus during the week. There’s simply too much to do: too many e-board meetings, movie nights, office hours, and readings.

In traffic, the hum of the engine subsides and the student conversations can be heard more clearly. On Fridays, they often discuss parties, usually frats: the idyllic MIT ones or the second-rate BU functions. Or, dinners; there are plenty of

fine places to eat in the city. And any passenger on the bus always gets a show of a wide array of fashion types for a night out—from the trendy urban corset to a resurgence of punk/Victorian/retro garb.

All criticism aside, the daily pilgrimage into Boston is a lovely sight to see. Many of these young people chose Wellesley for its proximity to Boston, and rightly so. The commute isn’t too long or tiresome. Rather, it’s something that brings all these students together who have a common destination, regardless of their specific plans. Even if it is sometimes a few minutes late, the Local Motion provides this community a service.

Maple Bottinelli ’26 (mb115) is a first-year and frequent rider of the loco!

POETRY shiver

BY AMAYA KNOX

fall is postcards kisses and hot chocolate leaves brown skin brown solange brown, alemeda is a lover i don't know too well, yet is unfamiliar territory that feels like home distant, closed, comfort is that cluster of ladybugs i pretend doesn’t exist like loose laundry on my bedroom floor

is oddly warm weather or perhaps it's not meant to be cold at this time is something off that might be a question or perhaps i don't understand seasons, change but feeling is all i need—then there’s remembering my forgetting and remembering why i forgot all i need—is bone1, vinyl, trees and

fall is the silence before the storm or maybe it's already started you’re not quite sure till it's over you really hope there's an end but soon it will be your mother’s birthday, pisces and ‘you’ begins at the s and renews at the g of spring

1 Bone by Yrsa Daley-Ward

Amaya Knox ‘26 (ak114@wellesley.edu) intends to make this poem a part of a composition with the constraint that every piece begins and ends with a season. Alternate titles to ‘shiver’ were ‘winter’ and ‘first snow.’

Images: Andrew Neel on Pexels

PHOTOGRAPHY

BY YITZEL SERNA

NewYear 's Resolutions BY COUNTERPOINT STAFF

Learntobudget.

Keepachapstickformorethanthreedays.

Savemoney

Livelovelaugh

NotwaittodomylaundrywhenIhavenoclothesleft

Cleanmyroomsomewhatregularly

Notloseallmyscrunchies

Callmyparentsmore

Takebettercareofmybody

Cookamealatcollegewithfriends

Useanentirebuspunchcardwithoutlosingit

OvercomemyfearoftheKSC

ActuallyleaveScibymidnight

Learntofightagoose

Notspendallmyflexpointsthefirstmonth

Learn to crochet

NotlosemyOnecard

UsethegiftcardsIhavebeforetheyexpire

BuymyparentssomethingwithmoneyIearn

Sticktoasleepscheduleforlongerthan6days

Startjournalingmore

Stopimpulsebuyingclothes

Stopsleepinginthecommonroom

Images: Canva

Images:

What are you most What are you most What are you most looking forward to looking forward to looking forward to about winter break? about winter break? about winter break? crocheting while my cat watches the yarn! ✻ Snow! ✻ sleeping in and taking showers without flip-flops on ✻ seeing my cats ✻ Seeing my four dogs!!!

✻ Being able to spend time with my family after being away for so long ✻ wintersession in berlin! ✻ getting to spend more time on my hobbies!!

✻ going home! ✻ No papers! ✻ no classes >>>> ✻ Having time to myself to decompress and regather ✻ not doing homework ✻ peace!!! ✻ Philosophy ✻ hooking up with my ex at home ✻ Sleeping in and not having to do homework

✻ Traveling to meet friends in St. Louis ✻ SLEEEPPP ✻

Cooking cozy food ✻ A day where I wake up thinking it's Monday morning and I have to go to class, only to realize it's winter break and I have no responsibilities ✻ Lack of academic responsibilities ✻ seeing all my friends from home

17. Lumberjack-core clothing and bed ding fabric

16. Mr. and Mrs. ____ had a sense of humor when they named their son “Bob”...