Brat was released just as I was beginning to explore the world of electronic music and dance pop. The song that perfectly captures this newfound fascination for me is “Club Classics.” From the moment I first heard it, I could easily imagine myself lost in the rhythm, dancing in a club where the beat takes control of my body. A truly successful song, in my opinion, is one that transports you to another place which Charli accomplishes this flawlessly. She pulls listeners into her world, making them feel exactly what she wants them to feel. There’s something insatiable about the high energy of the track that makes me never want to stop moving. If I’m driving or sitting in class, I can’t help but move whether it’s tapping my foot or nodding my head. While some might consider its repetitive nature a drawback, I find the repetition hypnotic and perfectly suited for its genre. In an album that delves into themes of fame and aging, “Club Classics” feels quintessentially Charli. It embodies her carefree, party-girl persona. The fast-paced beat is reminiscent of her earlier tracks like “Vroom Vroom” and “Speed Drive,” solidifying its place in her signature sound. Even with the release of the remix featuring Bb Trickz, my love for the song only deepened. The remix added another layer of energy, making it even more addictive. As someone learning Spanish, Bb Trickz’s verse resonated with me in a unique way. It merged two of my favorite genres, dance and Latin, into one seamless track. The Spanish lyrics gave the song an additional flair that felt fresh and exciting while still preserving its original essence. Although I’m relatively new to EDM and Charli’s music, “Club Classics” feels like a perfect homage to the dance music genre. With its infectious beat and high-energy synths, it truly lives up to its name. Everything about it comes full circle, as I wholeheartedly believe “Club Classics” has earned its place as a modern-day club classic.

The Awakening Chapter 39 page 120-121 “The water of the Gulf stretched out before her, gleaming with the million lights of the sun. The voice of the sea is seductive, never ceasing, whispering, clamoring, murmuring, inviting the soul to wander in abysses of solitude. All along the white beach, up and down, there was no living thing in sight. A bird with a broken wing was beating the air above, reeling, fluttering, circling disabled down, down to the water. Edna had found her old bathing suit still hanging, faded, upon its accustomed peg. She put it on, leaving her clothing in the bath-house. But when she was there beside the sea, absolutely alone, she cast the unpleasant, pricking garments from her, and for the first time in her life she stood naked in the open air, at the mercy of the sun, the breeze that beat upon her, and the waves that invited her. How strange and awful it seemed to stand naked under the sky! how delicious! She felt like some new-born creature, opening its eyes in a familiar world that it had never known. The foamy wavelets curled up to her white feet, and coiled like serpents about her ankles. She walked out. The water was chill, but she walked on. The water was deep, but she lifted her white body and reached out with a long, sweeping stroke. The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in its soft, close embrace. She went on and on. She remembered the night she swam far out, and recalled the terror that seized her at the fear of being unable to regain the shore. She did not look back now, but went on and on, thinking of the blue-grass meadow that she had traversed when a little child, believing that it had no beginning and no end. Her arms and legs were growing tired. She thought of Leonce and the children. They were a part of her life. But they need not have thought that they could possess her, body and soul. How Mademoiselle Reisz would have laughed, perhaps sneered, if she knew! “And you call yourself an artist! What pretensions, Madame! The artist must possess the courageous soul that dares and defies.” Exhaustion was pressing upon and overpowering her. “Good-by—because I love you.” He did not know; he did not understand. He would never understand. Perhaps Doctor Mandelet would have understood if she had seen him—but it was too late; the shore was far behind her, and her strength was gone. She looked into the distance, and the old terror flamed up for an instant, then sank again. Edna heard her father’s voice and her sister Margaret’s. She heard the barking of an old dog that was chained to the sycamore tree. The spurs of the cavalry officer clanged as he walked across the porch. There was the hum of bees, and the musky odor of pinks filled the air.” In Chopin’s The Awakening, Edna’s death scene is an ironic twist of fate. The ocean, which leads to her awakening, is also the cause of her death, illustrating the duality of an awakening and how with newfound knowledge comes new dangers and consequences. The characterization of the ocean in her death demonstrates the constant presence of the patriarchy and how a woman cannot separate herself from it alone. Edna experiences her first taste of freedom in the ocean. But as highlighted by her death, there is a dark side to the ocean and the freedom it brings. On one hand, the ocean can mean serenity and peace, especially when it is calm. On the other, it can mean danger and uncertainty. This duality is especially present with Edna’s desire for independence. By striking out of her societal role, she can achieve the intimacy and individuality she wants. But by rebelling against her societal role, she may lead a very isolated and uncertain life. Breaking away from the patriarchy was uncommon in the Victorian era. Edna faced the possibility of being shunned by her peers just for seeking independence. The more freedom a character experiences, the more they want. Edna’s thirst for freedom grows the more she swims. Each time she enters the ocean, she goes farther and farther out until it ultimately kills her. One can never achieve true freedom, and Chopin illustrates that when Edna drowns in the very thing that brought her freedom. During Edna’s first swim, she wants to “go where no woman has gone before,” which is a very courageous thing to admit but also frightening. Edna just learned to swim, and thus she isn’t very strong. Edna isn’t stable enough to strike out on her own. Even during her first swim into the ocean, she splashes in the water like a baby. Just like a baby, Edna is incapable of surviving on her own. A baby also represents inexperience, just like Edna’s inexperience with swimming. The presence of birds in Edna’s death scene further highlights her inability to strike out alone. Just before she steps into the water, the narrator describes a bird flying overhead, only the bird has a broken wing. This symbol ties back to Mademoiselle Reisz’s warning to Edna that she must be strong to strike out against the patriarchy. Reisz compares her to a bird that needs strong wings, but it’s evident once the broken bird appears that Edna is too weak to achieve this. Especially in the death scene, the bird is a metaphor for Edna’s incapacity to stand on her own. Bird imagery is very strong throughout the book, with the very first scene showing two birds in a cage. Whereas birds are a symbol of freedom, caged birds are the opposite. This is especially prevalent when Edna moves into the “pigeon house.” Edna believes she is striking out on her own, but in reality, she is only becoming more and more caged. The pigeon house is smaller than her previous house, and the freedom she creates is only an illusion. Each time Edna swims, she is awakening more and more, but consequently, she is heading closer and closer to death. The ocean is like a drug to Edna. Especially in the last scene, numerous words connect to hypnotization or a trance. The ocean is drawing her in and creating an illusion of freedom to trap her, acting like a siren. A siren is a mermaid-like creature that calls out to sailors to get them to jump off their boats and kill themselves. On the surface, the ocean appears beautiful and alluring, but under it, there is a dark side that someone, especially an inexperienced swimmer, can easily get caught up in. Edna is hypnotized by the water and even says it’s almost like another entity is dragging her in. Along with the siren-like qualities, the water is also described as serpents coiling around Edna’s feet. In the Garden of Eden, the snake represents temptation, but it also represents men. In literature, snakes are devious and manipulative, just like the patriarchy is. Even in death, Edna is being guided by the very thing she is trying to escape. The snakes, or rather the patriarchy, are drawing her towards the very thing that sparked her awakening. Even though Edna is rebellion, the patriarchy is always lurking. Robert was the person who taught her to swim, and right before Edna’s awakening, she leans on her husband walking to the beach. When she moves into the pigeon house, she only moves down the block, incapable of fully separating herself from her husband and the culture he represents. The presence of men in these scenes serves to highlight the constant presence of the patriarchy and how a woman, especially at this time, cannot fully separate herself from it.

I began playing softball as a way to make new friends. Having just moved to Indiana at nine years old, I had only made two friends who conveniently both played softball. Since five years old, my life has been competitive gymnastics. Softball was a different change of pace from the individualistic life of gymnastics. I thrived in the team atmosphere and had potential. Flash forward a few years. I decided to give up gymnastics and dedicate my athletic career to softball. It’s hard to put into words what softball has done for me. Softball has taught me so much about myself as a person. It gave me the foundation of relationships that built me up but also gave me something to dream of. Something every softball player can relate to is hearing the phrase “softball is a game of failure.” At first glance, it seems like something coaches say to make you feel better. I knew that softball was a game of failure, but it took a long time for me to fully accept that reality. Competing in gymnastics, I had perfection ingrained in my being from a very young age. It was a hard transition, going from perfection 95% of the time to failing 70% of the time and being successful. After many emotional car rides and working frustration off on the tee, I somewhat came to terms with failing. Yet, having played the sport for nearly nine years, I still struggle with it. Yet, through all the tough times, I can reluctantly say I’m grateful for them. Those trials and tribulations gave me thicker skin and made me a better player. I learned to harness my competitive spirit for good and not let it affect my game. I understood how to deal with failure and manage my emotions. Playing softball for so long, I’ve crossed paths with people from all walks of life. Having played for many teams over the years, I’ve built myself a little network of softball people. It’s like a little community where everyone wants one another to succeed. With that being said, you learn how to deal with difficult teammates and coaching. Softball has taught me a lot about how to manage relationships. There are times to push one another and times to build each other up. You’re not going to gel with every teammate, but it’s about how you deal with that relationship that makes you a better person and player. I’ve learned to take critiques from coaches even though I may not agree with them. Yet it’s through the bad coaches that you find the one that challenges you. I’ve developed mentorships with former coaches and teammates who want me to succeed and push me to be my best. I can rely on them to tell me straight and be my biggest cheerleader. Most importantly, playing softball gave me a chance to dream. Doing gymnastics, I never saw a future in it. In contrast, when I started playing travel, I knew I wanted to play at the next level. I started looking at schools during my freshman year and eventually found my perfect home, Emory University. I’m unbelievably excited to play at Emory and start the next chapter, but I’m trying my best to live in the moment. It’s an era of lasts, last high school season, last summer travel season. Although I sometimes complain about long drives and nights in hotels, I wouldn’t change it for the world. Softball made me into the person I am today, and I’m so blessed because of it.