I am not one for formal introductions. My sparse readership is often greeted with analysis and well-structured arguments with no indication of who I am beyond this column. It’s difficult to think of myself as a columnist given my track record of obnoxiously low self-esteem, yet I find myself itching for new conversations, tense disagreements and stifling existential dread. The human soul is molded by sociocultural unpleasantries, but we still choose to exist between the rough crevices. Thus, an opportunity to live beyond political structures appears in unexpected places.
One of these liminal spaces happens to be Cornell.
Cornell is a place of transition. Transcendence graces the path of each student, leaving its historical mark on them through “higher” learning and professional opportunities. Beyond that, however, lies an untouched political tension that is dismissed by the administration. Conversation on religion, identity politics, abortion and everyday perspectives is limited to the Government department and associated curriculums. No one dares to speak but the brave, and unfortunately, that’s what I am here for.
As we transition to adulthood in Cornell, discomfort and politics become unwanted acquaintances. Navigating hard conversations now, in a place of suspension, is essential to our growth as students of all different kinds of disciplines. From STEM to the humanities, this column serves as a palate cleanser from reactionary news coverage and red-pilled rhetoric permeating social media. I come to you, dear reader, with open arms — I offer you an opportunity to amuse yourself with the political banter, analytical musings and silly spirals of a Mexican-American student far from home.
Beyond politics and academics, I am an illustrator and an amateur author. You have probably seen my work floating around social media and the physical newspaper, all of which are touched by my love for taboo conversation and satire. Most of my work consists of criticism toward the lack of conversation in certain subjects. In fact, this column embarked on its unsteady journey as a result of the border crisis in my hometown, one of the few subjects that have yet to find root at Cornell beyond affected groups.
As for the miscellaneous facts, I am from McAllen, Texas, a little city gently cradled by the Rio Grande river. I am a fan of niche multimedia and internet horror, all of which are carefully thought about during my (very) mandatory classes. I was born a forced physical laborer, as my mother is an avid floraphile. My desk is covered with political and religious literature, sketchbooks, and commonplace journals I never finish. I often think about how memories are finite, and I am strangely afraid of the “multiverse” theory.
This column, as stated, is a space where uncomfortable conversations are expected and welcomed. Whether you disagree with me or not, I invite you to engage in healthy discourse in my future columns via email or otherwise. To quote Jorge Luis Borges: “If an eternal traveler should journey in any direction, he would find after untold centuries that the same volumes are repeated in the same disorder - which, repeated, becomes order: the Order.” The chaos of our current lives has not been untold, we have suffered the same old circumstances for millennia — political turmoil, famine, plague, etc. — and each time the discomfort, the disorder, and the uncomfortable become harmonious, we find ourselves easing into the malleable fabric of our everyday lives. Our job as students is to find the key to the puzzle. And that begins with something simple, something I hope to start with you: a conversation.
Hannia Arevalo '27 is an Opinion Columnist and a Government and Near Eastern Studies student in the College of Arts & Science. They also serve as the Graphics Editor on the Cornell Sun's 143rd Editorial Board. A native Texan and proud Mexican-American, their fortnightly column, Ni de Aqui, Ni de Alla, focuses on exploring the intersection between Latino politics, political visibility at Cornell, and the implications of religion in politics. They can be reached at harevalo@cornellsun.com.
