At the end of every spring semester, Columbia has its glorious last hurrah. The weather suddenly turns nice. Half the population emerges from hibernation to tan on the lawns. Late-night classes stop finishing when it’s still dark outside. Every performing group puts on a show. Free food abounds as clubs attempt to spend unused funds.
Certainly term papers, exams, and job interviews hang over everyone in some combination. But they simply conspire to make the other aspects of being here seem even more evanescent. The compromise between self-indulgence and work becomes all the more difficult—and all the more satisfying.
We too are giving you our last hurrah of the semester. And we certainly hope it leaves you longing for our next issue as much as Columbia makes us yearn for Alma Mater during the summer. To that order, we bring you everything that makes us the best undergraduate magazine at Columbia.
We explain what is happening under your nose and never cared to know—until now. For instance, Christian Zhang investigates the Korean church that draws an armada of strollers to Lerner 5 every Sunday. Meg McCabe unravels the mysterious silver buttons that dot every building on campus.
Meanwhile, we give a just account of what’s up in Morningside Heights. Virginia Fu relates the present state of Columbia’s new department of University Life. Mabel Taylor and Channing Prend tour the best and worst playgrounds in the neighborhood.
And of course, we bring you the assortment of columns that you know and love. We profile Haylin Belay and Luke Foster. In The Conversation, Kunal Jasty sits down with a crusader against Columbia’s ilk.
Then our feathered friend Blue J, who vanished near the Bermuda triangle nearly a decade ago, resurfaces thoroughly English.
Finally, Luca Mazorati and Torsten Odland duel over whether or not this is it.
I certainly hope it’s not.