May 25th, 2025 | 12:15pm – 2pm, Hameetman Conference Room, Members Present: Ashlyn, Elisa, Bisrat, Parker

As Commencement draws near, your nerdy wildlife columnist decided to explore a timely topic: what does “graduation” mean in the animal world? How do young creatures transition out of their juvenile phase—and what counts as “adulthood”?

When I first set foot in California, leaving behind the sun-kissed hills of Italy, my heart was heavy with anticipation and anxiety. As someone raised in a profoundly Catholic family, faith was not just a tradition—it was the very fabric of my upbringing. Church bells, Sunday Mass, and a close-knit parish community were constants in my life. The thought of crossing the Atlantic for my studies filled me with excitement and a silent worry: Would I find a place where my faith could thrive? Would I see a community that shared my values, or would I feel lost in the vastness of a new culture?

“My mom used to drag us out in the middle of the night to go watch the volcano when it would erupt. At like 3 am, she’d drag us out, get in our VW Van, and travel up the hill to the volcano,” Lecturer in History Dr. Daniel Lewis explains of his childhood in Hawai‘i. “Right now, it’s erupting in these thousand-foot plumes. Now would be the time to go—it’s mind-blowing.” His time in Hawai‘i left him with a deep appreciation of nature and countless unique stories.

Amid deadlines, data, and delayed dreams, it’s easy to overlook the fact that life doesn’t wait for us to solve every problem. At Caltech, where ambition surrounds us and the future feels constant, the present can easily fade into the background. Yet beneath the weight of equations, lab reports, and sleepless nights lies a truth waiting to be unearthed: hic et nunc—“here and now.” This simple, ancient Latin phrase serves as a profound reminder that our only true existence is in the present.

When I first set foot on Caltech’s campus, I felt like a contestant on a reality show called Survivor: Genius Island. I was fresh off the plane from Milan, armed with a suitcase full of dreams, a double major in biology and chemistry (because why not suffer twice as much?), and a secret hope to someday heal cancer. I planned to take the world by storm—or, at the very least, survive my first quarter without accidentally setting something on fire in the lab.

I had my mouth pressed into the sand. I was breathing hard—desperate, shallow, uneven. I could feel the grains entering my nose, throat, and lungs. Somewhere nearby, I heard the rapid thudding of hooves, the panicked exhale of a frightened horse. For a moment, I couldn’t remember where I was. I couldn’t piece it together. The memories didn’t come in order; they arrived like broken glass, sharp and disjointed. My helmet. My shoulder. The ground. Pain. Sharp pain. A blinding throb in my knee.

I am obsessed with David Lynch. Maybe unhealthily so. Few directors feel as fluent in the art of the somnambulistic; I know of no other director who could so deftly craft phantasmagorical operas of the manifold dream-nightmare that is the human experience.

The Mount Wilson Solar Observatory was founded in 1904 by George Hale, who was also a trustee of Throop Polytechnic Institute (which later became Caltech). The first telescope built on-site was the Snow Solar Telescope in 1904, followed closely by the 60-foot Solar Tower and the 60-inch telescope, both of which were completed in 1908. Hale hosted many famous individuals during this time, including Andrew Carnegie in 1910 and Harlow Shapley in 1914. Carnegie was the main financial supporter of the observatory from its inception in 1904, and Shapley was an astronomer who discovered our position in the Milky Way galaxy using the 60-inch telescope.

I can’t be sure, but if I had to take a gamble, I would guess most of you—like me—are always trying to optimize our paths around campus. There are multiple reasons this could be true: (almost) late for class and want to minimize how much you miss? Want to make it to Tom Mannion’s OH before the rest of campus wipes out all the Flamin’ Hot Cheetos? Want to get to bed when a coyote is chasing you down? Want to get the latest sighting of Ted Danson on campus? Want to make that last 2:58 p.m. dash to Browne on the weekend before all you have is Red Door? Want to beat the 10:30 a.m. line explosion at Red Door? Or the weekend 3 p.m. line explosion? Or the 10 p.m. line explosion, or… You get the idea.