February 2022 by Counterpoint Magazine

COUNTERPOINT the wellesley college journal of campus life february 2022 volume 58 issue 1

Letter from t he Edit ors-in-Chief This semester, we are once again excited to be able to continue to print and distribute paper copies of the magazine across campus and, as Covid regulations fluctuate and are updated, tiptoe back to what resembles “normal” for our org. We missed meeting in person, sitting in Jewett on Sundays, getting into the weeds (read: commas) of writing non-fiction, and getting to laugh with one another weekly in LuLu. We hope that, whatever life looks like for you right now at Wellesley, you’re finding joy in one another, in community, or, at the very least, in the warming weather. We also hope the love, time, and energy we put into this issue of Counterpoint comes across as you read, talk about, and think about its articles. Counterpoint, like always, is here if you’re looking to publish something you’re proud of that you worked on in class, an essay on campus life, or a string of ideas you’re still trying to piece together. We’re excited to continue doing so, and we’re glad you’re along for the ride. Happy reading,

Zaria and Parker SUBMISSION POLICY

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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 Editors-in-Chief (zgeorge or ppiscite). 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. counterpoint / februar y 2022

Images: Itzelt Reyes ’23 (cover), Sarak Kimutai ’24

Dear reader, Hello, happy spring, and thank you very much for picking up Counterpoint.

E D I TO R I A L S TA F F Editors-in-Chief

Parker Piscitello-Fay ’22 Zaria George ’22

Managing Editor

Stella Ho ’22 Staff

Features Editor Staff Editors

Maggie Erwin ’23 Harriet Martin ’24 Iris Martinez ’24 Sarah Meier ’24 Aidan Reid ’24 Noshin Saiyaara ’24 Alina Willis ’24 Lauren Witt ’24 Precious Kim ’25 Katie Manno ’25 Camille Newman ’25 Edha Singh ’25

D E S I G N S TA F F Layout Editors

Zaria George ’22 Maggie Erwin ’23 Alo Perez ’24 Jennifer Long ’25

COUNTERPOINT THE WELLESLEY COLLEGE JOURNAL OF CAMPUS LIFE FEBRUARY 2022 Volume 58 / Issue 1

IDENTITY MIMI DIAZ-SALGADO

EL ÁRBOL DEL CONOCIMIENTO

LIZETTE MIER

DEAR GREECE: MY COMPLICATED FEELINGS ABOUT MY 2021 STUDY ABROAD EXPERIENCE

STUDENT ART RACHEL WU

UNTITLED

EMILY LEVINE

PING PONG JENNI

ARCHIE, FROM AFAR

EMILY LEVINE

CAMPUS LIFE STAFF

BATHROOM ALIGNMENT

MAGGIE ERWIN

OAK TREE ON LAKE WABAN

B U S I N E S S S TA F F Art Director

Kelly Song '24

Publicity Chair

Hailey Cho ’23

Events Manager

Alice Mei ’23

Treasurer

A R T S & C U LT U R E ZARIA GEORGE

Lauren Witt ’24

THE TRAGEDY OF MACBETH FILM REVIEW

F E AT U R E S TRUSTEES

COUNTERPOINT STAFF

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

POLL: WELLESLEY'S WINTER CLOTHING

COUNTERPOINT STAFF

CROSSWORD: WHAT'S IN YOUR BAG?

counterpoint / februar y 2022

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IDENTITY

El Árbol del Conocimiento i madre dice que venimos de la tierra. Que fuimos como el barro, moldeados a la seme-

janza de dios. Mi abuelita Pina decía lo contrario. Para ella, nosotros venimos de la raíz- la que crece y crece, alimentándose de la tierra y el agua. Los domingos eran días sagrados para mi familia. Eran los días en donde nos reuniamos para celebrar el comienzo de una nueva semana. Tenía cinco años cuando aprendí que la familia no solo se refería a la sangre. La familia está compuesta por los que celebran contigo. Los que cantan y se regocijan cada domingo,

cantando con voces desen-

tonadas y con pulmones más potentes que los de

los pájaros cuando can-

tan al amanecer.

Y aún hoy en día, recuerdo a mi familia eternamente joven. Con

cuerpos y manos que no envejecen. Caras resplandeciendo con una belleza nacida de la felicidad y el placer. Mi abuelita decía que de la raíz crece toda la vida. Mi mamá dice que es de la tierra. Ahora a los veinte, creo que ambas estaban correctas. Somos la raíz y la tierra, creciendo y creciendo. A lo mejor lo hemos sido por siglos. Creciendo y muriendo. A lo mejor hemos cargado dentro de nosotros a Xochiquetzal, deleitándonos en nuestra juventud. Y a lo mejor es por eso que de donde venimos se conoce como el lugar de la eterna primavera. Las flores son sembradas y plantadas, siempre creciendo y creciendo. Vienen y se van en ciclos. Viniendo y rejuveneciendo, para siempre una raíz plantada en la tierra.

Mimi Diaz-Salgado ’23 (md5) is a weeb. page 4

counterpoint / februar y 2022

Image:Images: pngset.com

BY MIMI DIAZ-SALGADO

IDENTITY

Dear Greece: My Complicated Feelings About My 2021 Study Abroad Experience

BY LIZETTE MIER

Dear Greece,

I don’t know how I am supposed to feel about you. The memories of you haunt me still, and now I’m supposed to return to you without much choice? You’ve followed me everywhere I’ve gone since I left your beaches and your Athenian streets. I saw your ghost in the palm trees and dry lands of my home in Phoenix. I felt your spirit, as I navigated language barriers in Denmark, however brief it was with Danish. I think of you more than I want to and I can’t stop. The experiences I had with you brought back troubling childhood memories I was not ready to cope with. Every time I stood frozen, unable to read or speak Greek, I was thrown back in time. I remembered the feelings of shame and guilt when I didn’t speak Spanish properly to my own family. I remembered how embarrassing it was to have grown up in a Spanish household only to have a linguistic barrier with your own mother because the school

system prevented you from speaking your native language. “Only speak English when you are in school” was what I was told…and like a good people pleaser, I did. I received A’s in English classes, yet I stammered in Spanish without translation apps to bail me out at home. Living with you was like having tape over my mouth. I felt powerless. Over the years, I was able to work on my Spanish. Though I now occasionally use Google Translate to supplement it, I have grown used to being the middleman. I am now confident in stepping in anytime someone needs a Spanishto-English interpretation. I am always ready to jump in and say “Necesita ayuda? Hablo ingles y español.” Because the Covid-19 restrictions only allowed essential services, there were mostly older Greeks out in the streets of my neighborhood. Many times, they did not speak English, and suddenly I found myself in that vulnerable position of shame. I was no longer the middleman—I was the one that needed

Images: Alo Perez ’24

his is a recreation of a long letter I wrote to Greece, months after I had finished my Term Four study abroad during April - May 2021. I wrote this letter out of anxiety and frustration on October 25, when I realized that my Cultural Diversity and Integration Class in Denmark was taking a mandatory field trip to Greece. I used the original letter to sort out my confusing feelings of returning to a country that I had mixed feelings about. These entries symbolize the different themes from that letter. While in Greece, there were good memories with Wellesley friends, but there were also a lot of confusion and unanswered questions that made my experience more difficult than I anticipated.

a bridge.

Dear Greece,

While with you, I felt that there was always something you were trying to hide. I could feel the shadow of Turkey over me as I interacted with locals, but I didn’t have the education or experience to understand these awkward feelings of tension that I felt around you. Local people would make discriminatory remarks about Turkish, Bangladeshi, and Roma people, and I stood there in silence

counterpoint / februar y 2022

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Dear Greece,

Traveling with you made me re-check my privilege in a whole different way. My pale skin, dark eyes and hair awarded me a cloak of invisibility as I wandered through your streets—a privilege some of my darker-skinned friends were not always given. Traveling with a group gave me a different experience. My friends and I suddenly drew eyes. My American accent rang out so noticeably. I want to give you the benefit of the doubt and believe that all these stares are just because tourism was highly restricted and only essential travelers were allowed (students qualified as essential I guess)...so maybe Greeks were thinking: “What the f*ck are these American tourists doing here???”

Dear Greece,

F*ck you for overcharging me on taxis. I wish I could negotiate in Greek. I wish the taxi app worked everywhere. I hate that the oil stains from my food ruined my shirts and a pair of pants. I wish I was less anxious and bold enough to hunt for stain-remover before they set in…or clever enough to have packed it with me.

Dear Greece,

You were supposed to be magical. You were supposed to be charming and inspiring. I ran away from you feeling cheated. I found myself lost, and when I wasn’t enjoying my Greek experience at times, I wondered if maybe I was the problem. When I told people I was going to Greece, the look on their faces was as if I won the lottery and they blew up these dreams they had of Greek islands. During these moments, I thought maybe I was the lospage 6

er; it felt like I got pocket change instead of the jackpot. I’ve been thinking about why I am dreading returning to you, and I think the problem is that I judged you for everything you couldn’t give me at a time when the entire world was struggling. I judged you for not providing me the magical moments that the media and friends had promised me without considering the fact that you were in the midst of a global pandemic, with no vaccinations yet widely distributed. I misjudged you and wrongfully expected more from you than I wanted to admit. No island hopping was allowed. Bars and restaurants were closed. I wasn’t allowed to go more than two kilometers from my home. You were restrictive and controlling. The exciting life that I was promised no longer existed, and I think deep down I am jealous of the imagined Greece I didn’t have.

Dear Greece,

I ran away from you expecting to never see you again. My roommates and I joked that this wouldn’t be a country we would be super excited to return to…but I guess the universe always has other plans, right? I am studying in Denmark this semester and, coincidentally, I have to travel back into your arms. Originally, my class was supposed to take a field trip to Italy to learn about the influx of asylum seekers in recent years. Imagine my surprise when I saw my syllabus had changed—a new professor hired at the last minute. Now, we’re going to Athens, Greece. Looking back, I see you want me to have a second chance. All the questions I had about you relating to racism, nationality, and discrimination, the questions I had no means of finding the answers to, are just now being explained to me in Denmark. This “Cultural Diversity and Integration Class'' is showing me parts of your muddy history I wish I had known earlier. The class is an unexpected answer

counterpoint / februar y 2022

to my silent prayers, and it gives me the opportunity to give you a second chance. It is weird to say this now, but after much thought and several pages of frustrated letters, I am excited to see you again. Now that I am in the coldness of Denmark, I miss your warm hospitality. I miss your fried cheese and oregano chips. I miss walking through your streets. I am excited to put your life into context—to walk the streets with a strange feeling of familiarity. I am excited to feel the sun and sit in my favorite park and eat my favorite foods. I am excited to live a new life with you—despite how long it might have taken to admit this. It’s strange to admit now, but I miss you—at least, the idea of you. I can’t wait to say my goodbyes and maybe see you again, old friend.

Epilogue:

My second time in Greece in October was exactly like the end of my last letter. I experienced warm hospitality and the feeling of familiarity. I got to eat my favorite foods again and make new memories with my classmates. I learned about some of the history of the discrimination that I previously witnessed. And this time, I was prepared with stain-remover for the inevitable oil-spills I had. Covid-restrictions were lessened, and I felt the magic people told me all about. I am glad the universe forced me to give Greece a second chance…and I am waiting for a third!

Lizette Mier ’22 (Lmier) is a graduating senior, looking forward to many more positive experiences abroad.

Images: Alo Perez ’24

without the language to challenge their thinking. I didn’t know your history and therefore felt helpless in understanding this tension.

Image: kindpng.com, pngfind.com

CAMPUS LIFE

Honorable mentions: science center bathrooms, the memory of the modular bathrooms (which creak and echo at the same time?), the dorm (all the dorms) bathrooms, the fake first floor PNE bathrooms.

by Staff counterpoint / februar y 2022

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SECTION CAMPUSTITLE LIFE

TITLE

I have been measuring the surroundis the start of a normal ingThis ecosystem of a small oak treeparagraph near the (no drop cap) lake: the mushrooms that pop up (evidence of the rich underground network of mycelium and roots communicating with one another), the bees that frequent the flowers, the grasses, and the changing leaves. I have even captured a picture of a squirrel collecting acorns, perched on one of the tree's thicker branches. Each day, for ten days, I have taken a single leaf and observed the coloring, shape, and size. I have taken the same observations of a single mushroom that fruited about a foot away from the tree’s mighty base. Being able to see, smell, and feel these elements of nature has enhanced my wonder, and I am certain Emily Dickinson felt the same, if not greater (perhaps, as I suspect she had a larger capacity for wonder than most of us) astonishment from her perch at the second-story bedroom window of the Dickinson home. Dickinson’s poem “The Angle of a Landscape” is similar to the leaves I have collected in that it feels like a personal, unassuming gift of which I am the lucky recipient. Her observations evoke intimacy in a way that feels as if you are standing in her doorway, watching her watch the world. The poem is filled with quiet gasps I cannot hear but know exist because that is how I feel when I observe minute changes of the natural landscape before me. The natural world is immensely powerful, dynamic, and alive, but it is also simple and without pretense. Dickinson captures both the observable riches and startling surprises of nature

in “The Angle of a Landscape,” revealing that we are both human outsiders to and living elements of a vast ecosystem. Perhaps what makes Dickinson’s poetry so impactful for me is that she often feels like a friend with whom you revel about the small things. As I visited the oak tree each day and thought about “The Angle of a Landscape,” I felt like I was chasing buried treasure. When forced to stop and focus on the smallest details of a tree, I noticed how rich the ecosystem was. The changing leaves dangling like precious jewels, a value often unseen until The natural world

alds, the snow as diamonds. Her dashes mimic her surprise as the seasons change, and the syntax of these lines makes me feel as though I can hear Dickinson inhaling softly in delightful astonishment. The wealth of nature makes one feel rich in a way that the transactional wealth of human society cannot. Nature expects nothing from its inhabitants and cares not how we perceive it. To the oak tree I had been studying, my presence was as insignificant as the bee on its bark. Seasonal changes continue to take place despite our bewilderment. Dickinson is of course aware of this but also knows that being an observer of nature’s tricks makes them no less startling. In many ways, nature feels , ul rf is immensely powe like a gift, but nothing is given. The landdynamic, and alive, but scape is capable of instantaneous change and variability. “Sometimes - a Vane’s it is also simple and Forefinger - / But that’s - Occasional -” without pretense. you fo- (11–12) Dickinson writes, capturing the cus on the irregular movement of the wind blowing internal differenc- through a weather vane. At the base of the es. For Dickinson, the riches of nature are oak tree, one of the orange mushrooms I the simple yet breathtaking elements that had been documenting seemed to decomcontinue to surprise us daily. She refers pose and wither away within a day. Dickto her slightly ajar window as “Opon an inson’s soft surprise in the lines “Opon ample Crack -” (4), an “ample” or plenti- my Emerald Bough, / I wake - to find no ful scene to be appreciated. The landscape - Emeralds - / Then - Diamonds…” (14– is “a Venetian” (5) that violently moves 16) illustrates how quickly the natural Dickinson through its abundance and world can transform before us. The pacing beauty. She exchanges more plain descrip- of these lines and placement of the dashes tors for the likening of gemstones to de- conveys this temporality. Yet the opening pict the changing meadow below: “Opon line of the stanza “The Seasons - shift - my my Emerald Bough, / I wake - to find no Picture” (13) suggests something more - Emeralds - / Then - Diamonds…” (14– predictable in its variation, as the dashes 16). She views the green grasses as emer- rest on either side of the word “shift” and Dude Bro ’00 (bro@wellesley.edu) XYZ

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counterpoint / september februar y 2022 2018

Images: Long ’25 Images: Jennifer

BY XYZ

Content warnings: x; y his is the start of the article wow!

one can imagine Dickinson methodically inson notes: “The Chimney - and the Hill “my Emerald Bough” (13–14). Of course, changing frames. My visits to the oak tree - / And just the Steeple’s finger - / These the meadow beneath her window legally were characterized by this dichotomy of never stir at all -” (18–20). Man-made belongs to the Dickinson family, but gradual and immediate change often components of the landscape are static Dickinson is well aware that nature tranfound in the wilderness. While orange and immovable. They are less thrilling as scends these boundaries. Therefore, her color creeped into the leaves unhurried, they “never stir at all,” but they illuminate use of the word “my” implies something the plump fungi surrounding the tree the dynamic natural world around them. more personal, like her poems, referred to seemed to implode before my eyes. In the curated landscape of Wellesley, and as “My splendors” (14) in “Of Bronze An inherent quality to Dickin- undoubtedly in the affluent realm of Am- and Blaze”. As I observed the oak tree by son’s landscape, and in my own observa- herst inhabited by Dickinson, the wild- Green Beach, I found myself referring to tions of the natural world around me, is ness of nature imposes human obstinance. it as “my tree”: “I have to stop by my tree that the pieces of nature we grasp in our Our buildings, though beautiful, stand today,” or “My tree is changing colors.” sight—a yellow leaf, a small purple mush- unmoving amongst the ecosystem Dickinson suggests that we can be intiroom, the spider I watch dance along her around us—conmate with nature in a way that we canweb as I write—are so simple, yet move crete While orange color not be intimate with others, or ourselves. us so greatly. Dickinson writes, es un- Even as observers, we engage in the relacreeped into the leav Like a Venetian - waiting tionships that drive the natural world. My gi n fu p um Accosts my open eye oak tree certainly did not care to whom pl e hurried, th Is just a Bough of Apples hands touching its leaves belonged. e tree seemed the Held slanting, in the Sky -(5– surrounding th However, perhaps the tree could some8). how sense the crunching of leaves underto implode before She applies grand nouns foot and the snapping of stems. After all, (“Venetian”) and intense verbs (“Acstifling roots. who am I to gatekeep sentience? Our own costs”) to the scene, making it feel like a I wonder what the underground world impacts may be felt on the seemingly unviolent encounter as her captor waits in looks like in the space between where the changed world beyond our bodies. Molplain view. But she is captive only of “a oak tree lives and my first floor room in ecules among molecules. Nature remains Bough of Apples -” that hangs in sight. Claflin Hall. Tubers enmeshed in pipes? a force to which we are comparably insigThere is also an element of surprise to Do the roots of my oak tree reach the nificant, yet I hope that perhaps, in small this stanza. The first two lines contain a place where I am rooted? The potency of breaths, we can exist as a humble piece of build up: “waiting” and “Accosts” make nature takes us by surprise from within the ecosystem. the reader feel anticipation, if not anxiety. our own edifice. Then, there is the release of a held breath Despite our insignificance in Maggie Erwin ’23 (me3) is a junior as Dickinson notes that the “Venetian” is the natural world, we feel remarkably in- majoring in English and Geosciences, “just” an apple tree. “Just” implies some- timate with nature, as though the pieces and has spent way too much time looking thing insignificant, yet the movement of of the landscape we observe are pieces of at mushrooms instead of completing her the stanza depicts how impactful the mo- us, small secrets kept between window assignments. ment truly was. This is contrasted with el- panes. Dickinson uses the possessive “my” ements of the human world, which Dick- throughout the poem: “my Picture” and

counterpoint counterpoint/ /september februar y 2022 2018

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ARTS & CULTURE

The Tragedy of Macbeth Review

oel Coen’s Coen’s The Tragedy of Macbeth (2021) is a masterful film that efficiently balances the supernatural and realistic humanity of its characters and their subsequent actions. The cinematography is artistically dramatic, using a blackand-white color scheme and a square format throughout the movie. The square format intensifies the emotions evoked by the actors, especially during their soliloquies and when their minute expressions are all the audience can focus on. Over the course of The Tragedy of Macbeth, the well-rounded cast effectively portrays their constant indecision and regret. The three standouts, Frances McDormand as Lady Macbeth, Kathryn Hunter as the witches, and Corey Hawkins as MacDuff, deliver consistently strong performances throughout the movie and steal the scenes that they are in. Coen’s use of Hunter as all three of the “sisters” creates an unnerving and sinister tension that steers the movie towards horror. Some of the film’s most beautiful visuals take place during the sisters’ scenes. This is amplified by the blackand-white color which blurs the line between realism and the supernatural. The casting of Corey Hawkins, a much younger actor compared to that page 12

BY ZARIA GEORGE of Denzel Washington’s Macbeth and McDormand’s Lady Macbeth, highlights the reasons by which we understand Macbeth’s motivations. We see a man who seemingly has “everything” in this interpretation: an up-andcoming member of the king’s court with a close and loving family. Coen chooses to do away with the interpretation that the Macbeths could have had a child, and their eagerness for the throne is supplemented by their older age and perhaps jadedness. Of the more interesting artistic choices, Coen decides to expand upon Ross’s role in Macbeth, making his true allegiance ambiguous. Macbeth enlists Ross as the third murderer— an unnamed person in Shakespeare’s original play—employed to kill Ban-

counterpoint / februar y 2022

Images: https://scroll.in/reel/1015085/

Content warnings: murder

Dude Bro ’00 (bro@wellesley.edu) XYZ

quo and his son, Fleance, in a bid to stifle the witches’ prophecy. It is left to one’s interpretation the extent to which Ross is made aware of Macbeth’s plans and the witches’ prophecies. Indeed, if someone has never read the play before watching The Tragedy of Macbeth, there is a constant questioning of Ross’s intentions and his next steps. After helping to murder Banquo, Ross stays behind to search for a hidden Fleance. Coen does not explicitly show Ross finding the boy, but instead, shifts focus between the two characters until we see Ross possibly hovering over him. We are left to naturally assume that Ross murders him, until the very end of the adaptation when Ross presumably makes his way back to the castle with Fleance in tow, having hidden him from Macbeth’s wrath.

If I were to give The Tragedy of Macbeth an allotment of stars out of five, I would give it a four. This expansion of Ross’s character is the main draw and distinction of The Tragedy of Macbeth, effectively capturing the murkiness of the play. Although Shakespeare hints at certain characters’ distrust of Macbeth, under Coen’s direction, the audience has a more satisfying representation of this gray area, amidst the play’s (literal) black-and-white, good versus bad themes. Even more brilliantly, Coen presents us with neither a complete psychological nor horror adaptation of the stage-play, finding a comfortable spot between the two among its cinematography and visual choices. However, in the places where more psychological probing could have been useful, such as with the key

scenes prior to King Duncan’s murder and after, the film faltered a bit. That is to say, the stakes did not seem as crucial and/or dangerous when compared to other interpretations such as Macbeth (2010). Zaria George ’22 (zgeorge) is trying her best.

counterpoint / februar y 2022

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POLL SECTION TITLE

Wellesley’sTITLE Winter Clothing BY XYZ

Content warnings: x; y his is the start of the article wow!

CHOICES

d of u n i k o t wha ar do y rwe n the e t u o ri wea ter? win

what k in accesso d of r you we ies do ar in t winter? he

Dude Bro ’00 (bro@wellesley.edu) XYZ

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counterpoint y 2022 counterpoint/ /februar september 2018

Images: Image: pngwing.com, pngegg.com, pingclipart.com

This is the start of a normal paragraph (no drop cap)

Image:s: pngall.com, pngegg.com, pinclipart.com

what kind of shoes do you wear in the winter?

anything else in your winter outfit we missed?

pain. my longing for warm weather. also fuzzy long socks. ● the intense fear of slipping on ice ● mask! so good for keeping your nose warm ● thick socks ● the double layer of socks ● wool socks!! ● turtlenecks ● headphones (for heat preservation) ● fuzzy leggings ● bold of y’all to assume I, a New Englander, wears specialized winter clothing that isn’t just “season-round clothing but layered because layers are your friend always” ● turtlenecks and corduroys ● socks counterpoint 2018 counterpoint/ /september februar y 2022

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CROSSWORD SECTION TITLE

TITLE BY XYZ

Content warnings: x; y his is the start of the article wow!

ACROSS

2. For reading… when Wellesley gives you a free second 4. For soothing cracked winter hands 5. For writing down what your profs say 6. Put them over your ears to pretend you’re the main character 12. Wellesley’s favorite creative nonfiction magazine 13. Storage for cash, cards, and proof of vaccination 14. For when you have too much coffee in one day. Or not enough. 15. Student ID 16. In mini size, a fragrance refresher 17. Healthy snack packed with grains, page 16and the counterpoint / september 2018 fruit, occasional chocolate chip

19. “I will totally be able to finish this ___ on the bus into Boston!” 20. (see 11 down) 21. An extra to wear on your arm after losing the first one 22. Heavy but frequently necessary device

What’s In Your Bag?

DOWN

1. Method of currency on W’s favorite weekend transportation 3. For staying hydrated! 7. Old school (20) 8. Call me, beep me on this 9. An extra layer for chilly days 10. Distributed at elementary school picture days, in small plastic form 11. Device that boomed in student usage post-March Dude Bro ’00 (bro@wellesley.edu) XYZ 2020 16. For when the crimson wave strikes again! 18. A balm for lips and, in winter, any body part affected by the cold

Image:: cleanpng.com, chapstick.com,Images: freepngimg.com, pixabay.com, dlpng.com,

This is the start of a normal paragraph (no drop cap)