I have found my place at Harvard by leaving it, using Harvard resources to open my eyes to the broader world.
This year marks 28 years since my father last walked the shores of the Mediterranean in his home city, Jableh. It is a country that returns to me in flashes of memory, but does not anticipate my return.
A Harvard student and a fantasy footballer board a bus to downtown Detroit.
I want to write something — not to arrive at clarity, but to practice reaching for it. To trace the distance between where I am and where I think I could be. To say: I don’t know what I’m meant to do, but I want it to matter.