We lost our train of thought multiple times in the process of trying to write this bad boy. One of our editors lost her favorite jacket in her first week of first year and hasn’t forgotten about it. Another one of our editors has lost her juul three times this week.
The cyclical loss of graduates and those who don’t make it through a system built to weed people out leaves the remaining members of our community to acquaint themselves with loss.
All in a place where you are supposed to ‘find yourself.’ Inevitably there will be a measure of loss in the pursuit of finding ourselves. We want this issue to situate itself in the tension between these two realities.
The first lost and found as we know them today was established in 1805 by Napoleon to establish a central place for the neglected objects on the streets of Paris. Meanwhile, at the GUM, we were imagining a lost and found as both a receptacle of discarded things and a treasure chest of objects waiting to be rediscovered. We chose this as our theme because it felt so open to possibility. In this issue, we travel between emotional loss and material loss, and between finding ourselves and finding our lost p-cards.
Some submissions draw inspiration from the joy of finding a love letter for someone else in the Loggia. Some talked about losing loved ones, others about finding themselves in unlikely places. Meanwhile, first years wrote about losing virginity.
From material possessions to identity -- we cling to things to feel secure. We wanted to investigate the impulse to stockpile objects over and over, so we asked our peers what they collect and why. Recounting what is lost and what is found is intertwined with our impulse to mourn.
As individuals feeling a loss of territory and memory, the GUM often ends up being a space to lament the loss of a ‘Grinnell Culture.’ This year, we remember Bob’s Underground Cafe, our pizza bagels, and subsequently the departure of Andrea Conner (bye!), Posse, being able to drink beers at Pub Quiz, Self Gov (classic), our social security numbers (r.i.p), the untimely end of the Pioneer Football season and the abrupt departure of President RayK.
Take some time with this issue.
Imagine someone handing you a box of all the things you have lost.
Imagine playing a game of hide and seek with everyone you’ve ever loved.
Imagine finding a message in a bottle and filled with every text you never responded to.
Read it and weep,
Nicole “where did i put that” Rosengurt
Paige “google maps fan” Oamek
Aris “where is he” Reyes,
Sarah “baby shoes, never worn” Oide
Jeev “command-z” Prayaga
Jaz “that’s not me” Niang
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