Editor's Note

“What happens to a dream deferred?” writes Langston Hughes in the poem “Harlem.” Most of us have had to put our desires and regular lives on hold in the past seven months, and as we round the seven-month point of the pandemic, it’s beginning to drag on. So what happens to moments of love and laughter that got cut out of our 2020? Do they sit in waiting, stale, or is there a way for us to repurpose our energy we spent planning our old life into something new? This issue explores the idea of dreams: what we dream about, what we dream of, and who we dream to be. This year we have been forced to grapple with the uncertainties of our futures; our once solid and dependable dreams become distant memories of our old lives. As with everything, it seems our dreams are changing.

Chamidae Ford and Charlotte Houston

Chamidae Ford
Charlotte Houston
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At the reception of my father’s funeral, my uncle Robert, who isn’t my uncle but was my father’s closest friend, gave a eulogy that remarked on the elasticity of time. He said: There are moments to which we attribute great expectations, and they punctuate our histories, our relationships, li…

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In first grade, I was obsessed with “American Idol.” I even wore an American Idol Halloween costume (ruined only by the additional layer my mother required for modesty and warmth), and I hung up magazine posters of Kelly Clarkson on my bedroom wall and kissed them goodnight (which in retrosp…

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I’ve always been the type of person to have a plan for my life. I knew what I wanted to major in when I got accepted to the University of Washington and I had a general outline of what the next three years of my life would look like. I enjoy feeling like I am in control of any situation. 

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It isn't that I always dreamed of being rich. I never laid in bed at night imagining living in a mansion or owning five cars. But I did spend the majority of my life dreaming of wealth. It wasn't the flashy displays that drew me in, but rather the little things that an average person does not buy because they are unnecessary and expensive.

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This summer, my roommates and I clocked about 100 hours of “Love Island” (UK). I was going to say I’m not proud of it, but actually, it feels like an accomplishment. So why did we permanently give ourselves terrible British accents, you ask? Because our day-to-day life is boring and we neede…