Dear Young Stars, There is a rhythm to this place that you begin to absorb without noticing. It moves quickly, with purpose, carrying you from one obligation to the next, until even your pauses feel scheduled. Somewhere along the way, what once felt open begins to narrow, and the life you imagined for yourself starts to take on a different shape. And in that quiet shift, I wonder— Torn between the urgency of a pre-professional culture and the fervent hope to establish a creat

Wendi This semester, I have had the honor of working with Wendi in running the Indy. Throughout my time at Georgetown, there are very few people who I’ve known to have a more beautiful mastery of the written word than Wendi. In both her writing and editing, her vision of a piece’s flow is almost as musical as the many instruments she plays. As such a skilled musician and wordsmith, we have been so lucky and grateful to have had Wendi as a core party of the Indy. While I am so

Mary’s Swaddled like Jesus I wonder who’s closer to God

What I gave up for you, so that my wish might come true

On the unpeopled summit, The glacial ridges hover. Nothing answers the height. Night is eternal– Where the sky stretches, endless. My lament has traversed A millennium. Below, the sea turns– Blue tides, translucent eyes So wide that life cannot cross. Falling, A death-defying tear halts The insurmountable ice. Dream, heart, soul— Each sinks through pressured sapphire Through timeless silence Through lightless depth Where sorrow loses its sound And grief stills. Between heaven

As I walked through the front gates of campus, the cheers of Georgetown Admissions Ambassador Program (GAAP) weekend staffers echoed around me, their voices bouncing off the stone walls of campus and filling the fresh spring air. Among the hum of conversation, the sway of the blue and white balloon arches, and the sea of smiling faces, I spotted someone I recognized. I hadn’t learned about Georgetown from an admissions officer or a glossy brochure. I learned about it from a

Look beyond The windowsill For a special presentation, Delivered by Your hulking Yellow teachers Just outside The schoolhouse walls They wave their Arms in jubilation, Ushering you To come And take your seat Pencils, worksheets Mama’s snack, And your arts and crafts creation Fill your bag As you erase The room Through the window, Rogue balloons make Their evacuation Escaping to a sky You’ll never feel But always see The lackey of The Yellows Sits you at The river’s basin “A

I am a green shoot Defying the rubble around me, Fighting for the body That rests beneath, Not yet returned To the dust Life is like...

We don’t know the bands that are playing. We can’t understand the lyrics. What we do know is the pounding of the bass, the whirlwind of...

Editor-in-Chief Carolina here. As the semester comes to a close, I wanted to leave some words n' tunes for you.