Tales of a flip phone survivor
The day my mother gave in and bought the two of us iPhones was surely the day part of her...
The Pull of Passivity
Looking back through some of my old writing, I came across a poem I wrote around Valentine’s Day last year....
Laugh. Dance. Communicate.
Other 12-year-old children would come home from school and run to their toys or snacks, and have themselves such an...
Outsiders
In a forgotten wedge of southeastern Europe, icy water slid towards the Adriatic in the evening glow. Fresh, it jogged...
Personal Essay: Explanation of a habit
At the age of 9 and finishing up the fourth grade, I was already thinking about legacies. My grandmother had...
Weaving the wanderlust, the elegant and the memorable
Hi, guys! My name is Achieng Agutu. Achi, for short. I am a fashion lover, a storyteller, a fine diner,...
Our words have power
People say words are the most powerful weapons you can wield. Words have the power to persuade, explain and inform....
Summer reflections: Experiencing Palestine
Eliana Neufeld Basinger is a senior social work major for Bluffton, Ohio. This past summer, I got a chance to...
An examination of a compassionate peacemaker
This past spring, I read The Book of Joy: Lasting Happiness in a Changing World, a beautiful conversation between the...
Writing about death
Last week was challenging for me. If you’re a regular reader of the Record, you might have seen my byline...
Two birds, one stone
One early morning in April, my high school Media Club and I were buzzing with excitement on the school bus....
Integration of the subcultures of GC
A few weeks ago, I had the privilege of speaking with the Alumni Board about Goshen College. They were very...
The power of difference
Arriving at college, I had no idea what I wanted to do. I failed to truly understand what makes me...
Reflections on African History
Who would believe African History, taught by one of our finest GC profs, Jan Shelter, is a social and racial...
I am willing to wait
I fought and fought writing down these words for fear that they may become real again. That the hurt would...
