VALENTINES 2026 | The Blue and White

Valentine's 2026 Masthead

Board

NATALIE BUTTNER, BC ’27, Editor-in-Chief

DUDA KOVARSKY ROTTA, CC ’28, Managing Editor

NNEMA ÉPÉE-BOUNYA, BC ’28, Deputy Editor

LUCY SPENCER MASON, CC ’27, Publisher

INES ALTO, CC’28, Illustrations Editor

IRIS POPE, CC ’28, Illustrations Editor

JEREMIAH BARRON, CC ’28, Layout Editor

AUDREY WANG, CC ’29, Web Editor

ELIKA KHOSRAVANI, BC ’27, Literary Editor

LUCIA DEC-PRAT, CC ’27, Crossword Editor

HANNAH LUI, CC’28, Crossword Editor

Senior Editors

ELI BAUM, CC ’26

CHRIS BROWN, CC ’26

SCHUYLER DAFFEY, CC ’26

SAYURI GOVENDER, BC’26

PRAHARSHA GURRAM, CC’27

MAYA LERMAN, CC’27

ROCKY RŪB, CC ’26

KATE SIBERY, CC’26

EVA SPIER, BC’27

CECILIA ZUNIGA, CC’26

Staff Writers

Staff Illustrators

JACK BRADNER, CC ’29

MARVIN CHO, CC’27

ALTHEA DOWNING-SHERER, BC ’28

IRIS EISENMAN, BC ‘28

BOHAN GAO, CC ’28

MAGDA LENA GRIFFEL, CC ’28

ZAYNA JAMIL, CC ’29

AVA LATTIMORE, CC ‘27

ARIM LEE, CC ’28

ERICA LEE, CC ’26

ANA MORALES, SEAS ’28

SARA OMER, CC ’28

MICHAEL ONWUTALU, CC ’27

ABBY OWENS, CC ’28

NEDA RAVANDI, BC ’29

EVAN ROSSI,CC ’26

TIERNEY SMINK, CC ’28

ANA SORRENTINO, CC ’29

SELMA WHITE-PASCUAL, GS ’27

SEPP ZAMUTO, CC ’29

MAIA ZASLER, GS ’27

TARA ZIA, CC ’26

LUKE ZINGER, CC ’28

AMABELLE ALCALA, CC ’28

EM BENNET, CC’26

JUSTIN CHEN, CC ’26

LILAH CHEN, BC ’29

TRUMAN DICKERSON, CC ’29

EMMA FINKELSTEIN, BC ’27

JORJA GARCIA, CC ’26

JING GENG, CC ’29

KATHLEEN HALLEY-SEGAL, CC ’28

KATE HENRY, CC ’27

SELIN HO, CC’27

ELLIE HODGES, CC ’26

ETTA LUND, BC ’27

ISABELLE OH, BC’27

JACQUELINE SUBKHANBERDINA, BC ’27

JULIE SHI, CC ’28

SVEA VAN DE VELDE, CC ’29

LI YIN, CC ’26

VANESSA ZHOU, BC ’29

♡ Letter From the Editor by Natalie Buttner

♡ Bwecommendations

Literary

♡ Kern by Eva Spier
♡ Of Horses by Camille Pirtle
♡ Love Poem by Lynn Wilcox
♡ Sketch for M by Hannah Lui

The Conversation

♡ Achsah Guibbory by Althea Downing-Sherer

Humor

♡ Reading Each Other Closely by Jack Bradner
♡ Singles Night at the Comedy Club by Evan Rossi

XOXO,
Natalie Buttner

Letter From The Editor

Valentine's

Mixtape
(Bweccomendations)

Valentine's
Mixtape
(Bweccomendations)

Insert by Lilah Chen

HEARTBWEATS

Miniature vignettes about moments of unexpected, unusual, or endearing campus connections.

Insert by Justin Chen

Third Time’s the Charm

My first Valentine’s Day in New York was a haze of hunger and hair tangled in someone else’s fingers, a drag race of delusion draining me like cold sweat stuck on skin. My second run dashed through Washington Heights, where strangers’ laughter brushed the ceiling in a rush of rum and rain. There was a push and a shove and then it was all over. My third has yet to pass but I know I will leave a half-made bed in Brooklyn and eat lunch with an old friend until the afternoon light trickles out and I take the uptown train home, skipping over stops like a stuttered syllable. My roommate and I will sneak chicken wine under our coats and toast to our twenties and half-baked romance over pink sheets. Snow pearl-strung on the windowsill, I think of freshman year and how I am grateful that some things change, while others stay exactly the same. In a world alone, I remain grateful for my roommate and cheap wine and the whispers wandering through 114th street.

—EK

Love at the End

Rarely is love talked about in terms of endings. As my days at Columbia draw closer to their end, counted now in months, soon in weeks, days, hours, I can’t help but think about impermanence. Four years is nothing to a lifetime, but it has felt like life itself. At the end, when every conversation could be the last and every hangout a conclusion, everything matters that much more. There’s no such thing as the mundane, and there are no minutes to waste. I have to grasp every memory-making moment. But the transience is the point—–the beauty of a dying flower. And soon, with a wave goodbye, it will be over. Love burns bright and fast. But at the end, every tender moment is charged with urgency. If that doesn’t get your heart beating, what will?

—CJB

Insert by Justin Chen

Illustration by Ines Alto

Iridium Blues

I often wonder why I wince every time I send you a text. Especially when I send another precisely one minute and one second later, that little gap popping up between them to snitch on me and show you I’m overthinking. And when my words sit there unattended—anxious pixels suspended in a grid of light—I just can’t stand it. This meaningless block of silicon, lithium, and aluminosilicate glass torments me every time I press send.

But when I’m with the real you, not the version frozen and flattened in the photo above our stagnant thread of mindless “lols,” “tbhs,” and “nvms,” I’m at peace. My words are liberated from the iridium blue borders that confound their meaning. You understand me. You nod and laugh. I’m free.

—SFZ

Double Dingle on a Snowy Evening

We’ve both eaten our dinners around the tiny dining table. It’s dark outside and the fridge’s hum fills the silence. Four chairs, but only two of us sit at the table, bent over our phones on opposite sides, feet resting on the empty chair to our right. The two of us remain shuttered here, our roommates off elsewhere. There’s nothing more to talk about. We’ve already rehashed the same drama, laughed at bad short-form videos until our stomachs hurt, and asked to take a bite of the other’s food. Yet neither of us have left the dining table, for to stir the air would be to pierce the veil that cocoons us both in each other’s company, this sacred hour between dinner and sleep. To get up and leave would mean retreating back to our respective rooms, alone in a place usually buzzing with the presence of another person.

It’s quiet in the apartment and snow has begun to fall outside. “I wanna see the snow,” I say. We both stand up and huddle around the window, eyes tracing the swirling white coating the fire escape outside.

—IO

Illustration by Isabelle Oh

Insert by Justin Chen

A Rush to Say I Do

April 26, 2001. My Titi Michelle is on the cover of The New York Times in a white satin dress, holding a small bouquet of roses in a Manhattan city clerk chapel. She’s looking past the officiant’s shoulders, straight into the camera, and I know she’s feeling herself. Her lips are stained with a matte red, her hair neatly swept into a slick-backed bun with a zigzag part, wearing chunky gold hoops, as always. She’s standing next to a man in a black tie who I’ve never seen before, awkwardly distanced from her side. Above the photograph, the headline reads, “A Rush to Say ‘I Do’ (Want a Green Card): Immigrants Lining Up to Marry As a Legal Deadline Approaches.” The article continues, “Just four days before an April 30 deadline for illegal immigrants seeking green cards … the line snaked around the building on Centre Street where marriage licenses are issued and rings are crammed swiftly onto fingers.” To this day, Titi Michelle’s kids still don’t know. Mami says no one is allowed to tell them—our family secret plastered on the front page of The New York Times. Mami keeps this single newspaper page tucked away in her desk now crinkled and yellowing. She takes it out for a laugh every now and then. Titi Michelle was supposed to get $7,500 total, half upfront and the other half five years after they got divorced. She never got it.

—CSZ

Ever True

My study abroad program was through Brown University. This meant that, in the 40-person group, I was the sole Barnard student surrounded by dozens of kids from Brown. For months, I observed their conversations about traditions and places I had never heard of. I would chide my friends, complaining that I was forced to know everything about a place I had never even seen: the name of their late-night dining spot, the weird ‘concentrations’ (not majors!) everyone had, the campus-wide inside jokes, the cliche things to do in Providence, and how their sunsets look during winter, spring, summer, and fall. So, when I finally went for the first time on a sunny September weekend, a sigh of resignation, hiding a confession, escaped me: it really was that beautiful. That first day, after my friends’ classes ended, we walked through the Main Green. It was littered with people lying in the grass with friends, playing frisbee or catch, tabling for random clubs and free things—everyone tanning, talking, and laughing. I saw a friend I hadn’t seen since we left Spain in May. When he caught my eye, he gasped, ran toward us, threw his arms around me, picked me up, and spun me in a circle. This was the type of warmth and welcome I continued to receive each time I went. Within this place is a beating heart—a generous warmth enclosed with friendship, kindness, and a true sense that everyone is looking out for each other. In the shocking violence and grief following at the very end of the semester, it was this memory that I kept returning to. What warmth. What love. It is still there today in the aftermath of this tragedy, lifting higher and higher.

—SG

Insert by Justin Chen

Insert by Justin Chen

A JJs Night

It’s 11 p.m. on a Saturday, and JJ’s is close to empty. Knees brushing against one another. Pinky fingers tapping gently on the table. Her smile radiates beauty — I’m too stunned to speak. Head tilted, eyes wide open, staring directly into my soul — she listens.

“I didn’t want to let you in because I was too scared of getting hurt,” I say. “But I can’t avoid you now. I’m allowed to experience pain and still love. I want us to happen."

She holds my hand and in her sweet, soft voice affirms me.

In that moment, I see 13-year-old me, waiting to be seen, wanted, and loved. She craved that from her family and community, and she waited for a time when she could finally be authentically herself—and unapologetically loved.

A late night in JJ’s with the girl who is now my partner showed me that being loved was, indeed, possible. At the time, I wasn’t sure who to thank: she who stays by my side and watches me grow, or Columbia which gives me the space to speak my truth without a second thought.

I eventually realized that I didn’t need to choose. I learned to thank them both.

—ZJ

Postcard by Vanessa Zhou

PINK NOTES

One Last Lucky Penny

A love letter to the U.S. Mint’s newest retiree. By Luke Zinger Illustration by Isabelle Oh In my hometown upstate, there is a large plastic fish head whose five-foot wide mouth juts out from the carpet. The fish is actually an exhibit in my favorite childhood museum, and every few months from ages four to eight, I would look forward to making a wish while dropping a coin down its mouth. I never remembered to bring a coin myself, so I would plead for my parents (or grandpare

Luke Zinger

How Did Your Parents Meet?

Stories from college, Paris, and among the oranges. By Kate Sibery Illustrations by Nini Vilac For a long time I told the story as follows: my parents met at a Halloween party in college, my mom was dressed as a farmer in denim overalls and my dad wasn’t dressed up as anything because that is just typical of him. It has since been clarified that my parents knew of each other before then because their respective roommates—Jen and Brady, who are married to this day—were dating.

Kate Sibery

Hurtling through the Void

On Missed Connections and interstellar radio waves. By Magda Lena Griffel Illustration by Vanessa Zhou On a Monday in 2008, at exactly 7 p.m. EST, NASA beamed the Beatles’ “Across the Universe” from Pasadena, CA through deep space towards Polaris, the North Star. Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup They slither wildly as they slip away across the universe… It wasn’t the first, the last, or the most technologically significant message sent from Earth ac

Magda Lena Griffel

Comic by Em Bennett

Comic by Ines Alto

ESSAYS

Meet Me in the Park

On small moments of love that lie solely within a New York City park. By Sayuri Govender Illustration by Jacqueline Subkhanberdina In each of the parks around campus are pockets of us—people-watching with our neighbors, sharing inside jokes, and breathing out with the trees. I have dozens of different trail loops memorized, and I know exactly which one I need when. For a long, contemplative moment, I’ll walk down to the bend near 99th where Riverside Park meets the Hudson R

Sayuri Govender

Serving Kant

On a priori truth and looking at the moon. By Duda Kovarsky Rotta Illustration by Justin Chen Read while listening to Billie Holiday's I’ll Be Seeing You. Ever since I spent a semester reading Kant's Critique of Pure Reason for class, that Prussian virgin's words have loitered in my mind. The thick Critique weighed heavy on my bag from class to class, and on my peregrinations to see the woman I love. Over the course of our medium-distance New York-Boston relationship, we

Duda Kovarsky Rotta

Internal War on Love

On college love, temptation, and heartbreak from a Muslim-American perspective . By Sara Omer Illustration by Kathleen Halley-Segal I exist in a rift between two vastly different worlds, straining to hold them together. The first world was introduced to me by my parents. I can only reach this one through focus and expert dissociation. I awake from my slumber in the middle of a silent night while everyone around me is snoring and dreaming. I splash unnervingly cool water on

Sara Omer

Everything is (Un)Romantic

Some names have been changed, some haven’t. By Rocky Rūb Illustration by Em Bennett Three and a half years ago, I started making a playlist for every semester. It’s a maladaptive practice, in which I imagine that each 14-week stretch of time makes up a television season, and that each playlist makes up its soundtrack. I’m the main character, obviously, but a couple tracks focus on my friends, the featured cast members. There are times that I actually can’t listen to the playl

Rocky Rūb

Love On the Rocks

How to drink from the heart. By Iris Eisenman Illustration by Justin Chen In anticipation of a date, I watched my friend, who never smokes, tuck a cigarette into her purse. When I asked her why, she told me it was her first date routine. Something about the small ritual gave her a comfortable distance from the moment, like someone else was experiencing the night in her stead. I immediately recognized her desire for a switch to be flipped, for romance to exist in a compartment

Iris Eisenman

Courting Dances

On relationships, labels, and keeping love alive . By Ana Sorrentino Illustration by Iris Pope The names in this piece have been changed to respect the sources’ romantic privacy. Upon reading, I’m sure you’ll understand why. In high relief against the outer wall of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, white birds bathe in shallow pools of melted snow along the plaza’s edge. In soft crowds they stretch wings, pivot, and stare. Two take off flying around in a frantic chase to th

Ana Sorrentino

Comic by Sara Omer

LITERARY

Sketch for M

By Hannah Lui Illustration by Selin Ho Turtle-necked at the Kawai where he learned to waltz&rag. And compose and doodle and dance but I only hear Scott Joplin’s Maple Leaf tortured from the copper When I think of him here At the piano I am looking at his post-op face on my phone. Not as bad as I expected Mom says When he left two days ago the last time I saw the face she bore, his&this hits me now Now, Fog bruising purple, his nose is not the same Thick hanging hea

Hannah Lui

Love Poem

By Lynn Wilcox You are tired. You sweat from your eyes while slumber makes your breath a whistle, I brought you here, my restless traveler, under sterile light, in hotel bathrooms, on cold porcelain, my sole splits. I cry out, but your mind is far away, reaching for some immaterial idyll. Silence enters through the window and I want for you to listen, so I steal a moment from your slumber, unconscious, allowed. I go to sleep with a dirty mouth and unquiet mind. Too early.

Lynn Wilcox

Of Horses

By Camille Pirtle We can’t cook. That is our first attempt at endearment to the college girls at the bar. They flip their honey-blonde hair over their shoulders and consider us, shy looks on their faces. They have seen Americans before, but never quite like us. Two of us. Gray sweaters and glasses, brown belts from Abercrombie bought before the trip, twelve-seventy-five-each and no returns. Two girls that dress like boys. Big white fluoride grins. They don’t have that here. N

Camille Pirtle

Kern

A lovely moment I recall. By Eva Spier Illustration by Jiaying Geng In 1825, Alexander Pushkin, widely regarded as the father of Russian poetry and memorized by legions of pupils to this day, joined Russian socialite Anna Kern at her aunt’s Trigorskoye estate near Mikhaylovskoye to work on his manuscript of Eugene Onegin . He became infatuated with the woman in a matter of weeks, who had been unhappily married to General Yermolai Kern by ways of an arranged marriage since th

Eva Spier

Illustration by Lilah Chen

The

Conversation

Achsah Guibbory

Althea Downing-Sherer

Insert by Jacqueline Subkhanberdina

Insert by Justin Chen

Humor

Singles Night at the Comedy Club

Or why I will never find love on reality TV. By Evan Rossi Illustration by Isabelle Oh I recently applied to be cast on the next season of Love Island USA . Ever since I saw the genuine, everlasting look of love in the eyes of Season 7’s Amaya and Bryan upon winning the show (and $100,000), I knew I would do whatever it takes to become America’s next sweetheart. Eighty-seven questions later—including, “What is the most difficult thing you have ever been through?”—I submitted

Evan Rossi

Reading Each Other Closely

Applying Self-Disclosure to Columbia’s Couples By Jack Bradner Illustration by Selin Ho In 1997, psychologists Arthur Aron et al. published their seminal study, “The Experimental Generation of Interpersonal Closeness: A Procedure and Some Preliminary Findings.” To investigate how self-disclosure affects relationship-building, Aron et al. devised a set of 36 questions to probe closeness between unacquainted participants. Two of the participants in Aron’s study were married s

Jack Bradner

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Valentine's Madlib

Valentine's 2026 Masthead

Valentine's 2026 Masthead

Valentine's 2026 Masthead

Board

Board

Senior Editors

Senior Editors

Staff Writers

Staff Writers

Staff Illustrators

Staff Illustrators

Table of Contents

Table of Contents

Table of Contents

Heartbweats

Heartbweats

Pink Notes

Pink Notes

Essays

Essays

Literary

Literary

The Conversation

The Conversation

Humor

Humor

XOXO, Natalie Buttner

Letter From The Editor

Valentine's

Mixtape (Bweccomendations)

Valentine's Mixtape (Bweccomendations)

Letter From The Editor

XOXO, Natalie Buttner

HEARTBWEATS

HEARTBWEATS

Third Time’s the Charm

Third Time’s the Charm

Love at the End

Love at the End

Iridium Blues

Iridium Blues

Double Dingle on a Snowy Evening

Double Dingle on a Snowy Evening

A Rush to Say I Do

A Rush to Say I Do

Ever True

Ever True

A JJs Night

A JJs Night

PINK NOTES

PINK NOTES

One Last Lucky Penny

How Did Your Parents Meet?

Hurtling through the Void

ESSAYS

ESSAYS

Meet Me in the Park

Serving Kant

Internal War on Love

Everything is (Un)Romantic

Love On the Rocks

Courting Dances

LITERARY

LITERARY

Sketch for M

Love Poem

Of Horses

Kern

The

The

Conversation

Conversation

Achsah Guibbory

Humor

Humor

Singles Night at the Comedy Club

Reading Each Other Closely

Valentine's Madlib

Valentine's Madlib

XOXO,
Natalie Buttner

Mixtape
(Bweccomendations)

Valentine's
Mixtape
(Bweccomendations)

XOXO,
Natalie Buttner