• Dear Readers,


    Maybe I’m a romantic, but there’s something about sitting in the starry dark slowly icing over the day’s slap of sunshine that just screams Spring Weekend. Well, okay, this isn’t how I imagined the end of the semester, but in a way, it’s better: a scattered crew of post-its has assembled on the Green to roast each other and sway to indie music, so basically just us indoors, but outdoors. With distance, and struggles to recognize each other’s masked faces.

    And despite the chill that has us desperately tucking our hands under our laptops, I am warmed by this group of goofy and thoughtful, yet delightfully crass, individuals who make post- happen. I am grateful to our seniors (whoa, there are adults here?), Minako and Christina, as well as the people who just joined this semester (a crazy feat, truly): Andrew, Emily, Sam, Lily, and Sharlene. And then of course all the rest of you old dogs. 

    Our final issue of the semester is ending on a similarly nostalgic note. The Feature writer looks back at their journey with writing in solitude and for an audience (post-, in fact!). In Narrative, one author sifts through meaningful objects in her life while the other processes the physical memories of her eating disorder. Meanwhile, the writers in Arts & Culture sweep us away to other places: one to Bogota and its inspiring street art, and the other to Britain, or rather the Great British Bake Off and a quest to create some art of the culinary variety. We return firmly to Earth and to a crashing wave of nostalgia in Lifestyle, where senior writers Gus and Eashan give us their last irony-packed hurrah. Expect to snort while reading.

    It honestly is unbelievable on days like today, when students cluster––now with caution––on the Green to stare up at the budding magnolia trees, take advantage of free ice cream on Brown’s dollar, and spread rumors about the Spring Weekend lineup, that this is the end of the spring semester. Whatever we imagined it would be one month, six months, a year ago, there’s something beautiful just in the fact that we made it here. And thank YOU for joining post- along the way.


    Wistfully elbow-fiving the school year goodbye,

    Olivia Howe