Photo Credits: CAITLYN SAMPLEY / AGGIE FILE
Aggie editors reflect on places for which they are thankful
Kaelyn Tuermer-Lee, Editor-in-Chief
While I have lived in several different places and have been fortunate to travel across the world, I will always be thankful for the city where I was born: Baltimore. Though I grew up in Catonsville — my beloved 21228 — I have fond memories of downtown Baltimore. I remember feeding the ducks at the harbor with my parents, going on walks with my Oma when she visited from Germany and eating the most delicious sausage sandwiches at the farmers’ market. And despite the fact that some may think of Baltimore as a dirty slum, I find the beauty in its character and will never forget where I grew up. Go O’s!!
Hannah Holzer, Managing Editor
There’s a fantastic line from the first episode of Tuca and Bertie that goes: “You know when you’re coming home late at night? And everything inside looks so warm and yellow, and everything outside is so blue? I love thinking about how, from now on, this little piece of yellow is for us, our warm home together.” There is no more apt descriptor than this for how I feel when I come home to my three housemates — my best friends — who I have been so fortunate to be with practically every day of my college career. This is the third year we’ve lived in this apartment, and in that time it has seen a lot of blood, sweat and tears (and latke grease, the frequent waft of brownies in the oven and an almost never-ending steam for countless cups of tea). This apartment is a testament to the friendships and relationships I have made throughout college, it’s seen the best times and the hardest times of my life and it’s old and cheap and quite literally always falling apart, but it’s my cherished home.
Kenton Goldsby, Campus News Editor
Just over two years ago, I was living in Barcelona, Catalonia, while studying abroad. It was a particularly tough holiday season. My mom had passed away that summer and missing all of my family frankly sucked. This is all the more reason I am thankful for Sitges, a city 45 minutes south of Barcelona by train, where I spent the weekend after Thanksgiving with my boyfriend Joel. Having him be able to come visit me from California was such a comfort, and being able to form memories in that town was a blessing. Sitges will always hold a place in my heart because of that weekend.
Stella Tran, City News Editor
Spicy cajun aromas seeped up my nostrils as I thought to myself, “home.” My all-time favorite place is located in the heart of Southern California: The Boiling Crab. I spent my high school days there with my close friends, and I am forever thankful for my memories at this special place. We would catch up with one another over peeling crawfish and eating some of the most delicious fries, without a care in the world. The restaurant was a place where I shared Secret Santa gifts, gave the worst love advice, laughed until my stomach ached and cried when I was about to leave it all behind. My heart belongs there, beckoning me to return.
Hanadi Jordan, Opinion Editor
This year, as I look toward graduation and the uncertain future that follows, I am especially thankful for my grandmother’s — my teta’s — home in Livonia, Mich., which has always felt like home despite my constant moving away from it. I will forever be thankful for the memories and the unconditional love I was given in that house. The smell of sizzling hash browns and scrambled eggs on a summer morning; my grandmother’s voice calling on my cousins and me for breakfast. The smell of fresh cut grass and the sharp metallic scent of a long-rusted swing; the sound of leaves blowing, child-like shouts and laughter. I am thankful for the time my teta’s house gave me with my cousins, and especially with those who have passed too soon. But more than the place itself, it is the love my teta filled it with, which makes me so grateful.
Claire Dodd, Features Editor
While this may come off as cliché or lacking in creativity, the place I am most thankful for is a town I’ve had the pleasure of living in twice: Davis, Calif. Most people do a double take when I tell them I spent a large portion of my childhood in the same town they attend college in, but I am nothing but grateful for the wholesome adolescent memories Davis gave me. I can recall spending my mornings with my dad and our dog, Sammy, at Slide Hill park and climbing all over the curious Eggheads on campus — a place that seemed so alien to me back then. Although the city has changed significantly since 2006, it hasn’t lost its signature community feel that still, to this day, fills me with adoration and gratitude.
Liz Jacobson, Arts and Culture Editor
One of my biggest frustrations with Davis, Calif. is its lack of good salad places, but to be fair, it’s really just that no salad will beat the Brauhaussalat at the Café Brauhaus am Markt in Kaiserslautern, Germany or the afternoons I’ve spent there with my mom. This turkey salad, topped with the most delicious curry dressing and paired with an Aperol spritz, is always enjoyed after an afternoon of errands on the walkplatz with my mom, where we have wonderful conversations, both thought-provoking and frivolous, under an umbrella, against the backdrop of a bustling downtown.
Dominic Faria, Sports Editor
Call my obsession for sports unhealthy, but the place I am most thankful for in my life doesn’t even exist anymore: Candlestick Park. The Stick was a place of joy, sadness, worship, confession and adrenaline-pumping excitement all wrapped into one battered relic of Bay Area sports lore. I’ll never forget the memories that I have made alongside my family within its now torn-down walls. I’ve been privileged to witness some of the greatest moments of 49er history inside that cold, unforgiving temple — some that even made me cry my eyes out in happiness. I sorely miss making the trek up to the city and spending my Sunday afternoons there. The real Faithful fans know how deep the passion runs. Niners for life!
Cecilia Morales, Science Editor
The introvert inside me wants to immediately say I am most grateful for the comfort my bed brings me at the end of long days (or really any day). But given California’s drastic and damaging (to say the least) housing crisis, I am most grateful for the places that my extended family of immigrants and their first-generation children have been able to call home in Southern California. Our experiences building our lives in an area known for entertainment and tourism differ from what most might equate Southern California to be, but it makes our relationships to the area that much more special. Last, but not least, I am grateful for where my parents are really from — two small cities a couple of hours outside Guadalajara, Jalisco in Mexico — as that connected me to my grandma Mama Meche’s home in Tecalitlán, which has been critical to shaping the woman I am today.
Written By: The Editorial Board