Tatiana Pérez

You set aside at least an hour each day to stare at yourself in the mirror. Usually while crying. You’re a beautiful crier.

We’ve had years of practice mothering little boys. Like it or not, we know how to coax you into becoming a better man.

Real people on “coming” of age in some unforgettable ways.

“But you’re, like, not really black.”

Seriously, what am I supposed to say… “thank you?”

You like, actually have ADHD, though.

You’re not in love—you’re comfortable.

We’re both jealous things — both humans, right? — so let’s stop pretending. We’re not 18 anymore. No need to pretend.

As a Hispanic woman with some social capital at a small, preppy, elite college, I’m expected to retire my thorny convictions when the watery beer starts flowing.

How do you function under the conviction that you’re not as socially, politically, and economically valuable as a man? Again, I’m not dramatic; I’m incensed that you enjoy the civil rights recently afforded to our sex and, yet, turn your back on the principles they defend.

Derek has had a crush on Katie for nine months now. That’s a full-grown fetus of laying groundwork for a date, or a kiss, or maybe just some impassioned eye contact. They do homework together.

The Bar—that lone tavern in the sprawling metropolis that is your college town—is a thing of intrigue. Even for a native New Yorker accustomed to passing by watering holes on every block, the bar at a small school manages to harness a surprising amount of mystique.