New York City

This column should at least partly be a celebration of the past few years of my life. Above all, I got to do it at one of the greatest schools in the greatest city in the world. I still don’t know what I want to be in life, mostly because the door is overwhelmingly open now to anything I can make of it.

Queer youth are overrepresented among the homeless population. Young LGBT people face unique challenges and dangers, at risk and vulnerable to violence and exploitation.

No other Ivy League school comes with a tagline—let alone one as loaded as ours: we are Columbia University, in the City of New York. Trying to take advantage of both the academic education we are in the midst of, and the education this city can provide, leaves us in an overwhelming situation.

Last month, legislation was passed making it illegal to feed the pigeons here in New York City, with a hefty fine of $1,000 put in place to ward off animal lovers and bored old people alike.

In what was perhaps the happiest thing to happen in St. Mark’s Place up until the opening of Crif Dogs, a little orphan once gave shelter to a puppy fleeing the dog-catcher.

For people in a massive city like New York, and indeed, an affluent region like the Northeast, it’s sometimes hard to imagine life without a professional sports team to cheer for (and against).

When you leave the place you call home for a place like New York City, there is little reason to feel homesick; life is just too exciting here.

The New York City Marathon marks first year reporter Mary Kohlmann’s first time exploring the city—all of it—on her own.