Is it cynical to look critically at a practice that has, regardless of credibility, brought serenity to so many self-proclaimed believers? Maybe a little.

Though I pride my work in being factually accurate, my emotions are a vehicle for me to better connect and empathize with the individuals I’m able to spotlight.

As much as I’d love to say I’ve always been comfortable being alone, the truth is, I haven’t.

Parallels can be drawn in Christmas tree purchasing and the similar buy-and-sell antics during the alleged season of giving.

Though the residue of the patriarchy is an inescapable facet of day-to-day life, our country’s politicians should be held to a certain standard.

In trying to be a better ally to the BIPOC community, I’ve found it critical to self-reflect and see the places in which I may be unconsciously contributing to the systemic racism that remains ever-entrenched in our nation’s history. One example is in my participation in sorority life, a current topic of controversy among many progressive activists.

I’ve spent several hours in the hallowed halls of the Henley basement amongst the orphaned, dust-covered socks while engaging in this painful laundry process, becoming too familiar with the tumultuous rumble of machinery.