Tag: life

Columbia University Graduation

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It’s official: I have graduated from Columbia University! 

My friends and I sat outside in our full regalia in 90 degree heat— meaning that we earned our degrees and then some. Everyone was sufficiently irritable by the time that our group was called, but happy, nonetheless with our accomplishment. 

We sat around in this apocalyptically warm weather, listening to existential speeches on the dangers and trappings of AI all while celebrating the creation of art in troubling times. 

My friends and I sat in the tiny but mighty writing section, shaking our tambourines. Every school was given a prop; ours were tambourines for reasons that would soon become obvious. 

Official picture from Columbia’s instagram page. Note how I am the only one not looking

The highlight of the ceremony was John Baptiste’s surprise musical performance. As an honorary doctorate of the School of the Arts, Baptiste stopped by on his way to the final taping of Late Show with Stephen Colbert to treat us to his musical stylings.

He sat down at the piano, opening with Für Elise before moving on to a truly modern rendition of “if you’re happy and you know it” to which the writing section got to shake their tambourines. His fingers fluttered over the keys like it was nothing, while singing effortlessly, like he was just opening his mouth and pouring out beautiful music.

That night, we had a separate graduation ceremony for the School of the Arts in which me and a few of my friends walked across the stage and accepted empty envelopes for diplomas that will be arriving in the mail in the coming weeks. 

One professor semi-praised AI in his speech and was promptly shouted down (praising AI to a group of students who just went into hundreds of thousands of debt for a job in an industry that will probably no longer exist in a few years during one of the worst job markets in recent history seems like peak tone-deafness to me).

I had a fun time as I celebrated the last graduation of my life (though I would not turn down an honorary doctorate one day). 

My time at Columbia was extraordinary. I met some pretty amazing writers, and with that, some pretty cool people, but most importantly, my writing has been shaped and sharpened, more than I ever thought possible. Sitting there, in the blistering heat, I thought about all of the work that I put into it, how I hardly slept as I rushed to finish submissions, gave and received feedback on novels, and read all kinds of fiction.

Regardless of what the future holds in terms of AI and other existential threats, I will keep writing.

A shoe change happened

Now I am on to the next thing, like working to finish and sell my debut novel.

I am a lion. Hear me roar!

The Tragic Queen,

Raquel

P.S.: Check out my blog post on my previous college graduation

And for the lady, perhaps some recommended reading…

Experts Only Music Festival

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A couple of months ago, my mother called me up and asked me if I wanted to go to this “music thing” that she heard about in her neighborhood that weekend. I said yes, unaware that this “music thing” was the New York City music event of that weekend. 

It was the inaugural Experts Only festival, a music festival hosted by DJ John Summit on Randall’s Island. The DJ played house music the entire afternoon. 

Experts Only was the whole nine yards: food stalls, merch stands, beach balls bouncing off the top of the crowd, a woman dancing on stage at all times, and someone who was clearly on ecstasy and therefore not dancing at all to the beat. The whole thing was like a big high school football game, only instead of tailgating you’re eating from a food truck in the middle of a field surrounded by 300 strangers and instead of showing off your school spirit you’re showing off every inch of your body that you’re legally allowed to show.

I was entirely unprepared for the music festival that I walked into, wearing a long sleeve black shirt and jacket. I was the most fully clothed person there, aside from my mom. I looked like a narc.

Everywhere I looked, there were sheer body suits and crop tops. Ass crack and butterfly tattoos were also very much in, as were pashminas and chainmail waistbands. Influencers and wannabe influencers posed for pictures in their outfits. The event was in full swing.

We danced our way to the front of the crowd, squeezing through the mesh of bodies, and when we needed a break from the dancing, we sat in a field drinking vodka lemonades and eating street tacos. 

My mother nodded along to the music. I jumped up and down like a lunatic.

We got there in the early afternoon and then stayed late into the night, technically morning. At the end of the night, we caught the ferry, with me limping from how hard I danced. I ended up pulling a muscle in my leg and then freaking out that I had a varicose vein, because of how it was bulging out of my calf, but it was worth it to experience such an awesome music festival.

It’s not often that I get to be pleasantly surprised when an impromptu weekend hanging out with my mother turns into a wild night of drinking and dancing at a New York City music festival. My mother, despite having a good time, has decided not to join me next year.

This was my first time at a music festival, but I am determined for it not to be my last. This year, I will be sure to return to Expert’s Only in a crop top with my friends, ready to have more vodka lemonades and street tacos, like the twentysomething that I am. 

The Tragic Queen,

Raquel