Kayla Wiltfong
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Porcupines show the misplaced values of the American justice system
I felt nauseated when the Google news notification flashed on my phone screen. It read, “Two Maine cops fired for beating porcupines...
The president who cried COVID
I woke up around 2 a.m. on Friday, Oct. 2, and instinctively unlocked my phone. I had a notification for a group...
Black art, J.C. Nichols, and a Trump parade; nothing substantial has changed
The artwork was a massive field of black, taking up an entire pane of the RE’s many windows. Two almond-shaped, mustard-yellow eyes...
The women who made me possible
My dad’s mom, who I call Grandma, was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer earlier this year. She did a couple rounds of chemo,...
How Art Archives the Revolution
In April of this year, right before the end of the spring semester, I submitted a piece to UNews about archiving the...
White reader, white writer
A couple months ago, when the tragic murders of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor and Ahmaud Arbery converged in a wave of Black...
How “I Can’t Breathe” Illuminates White Privilege
“I can’t breathe,” my white acquaintance told me from under her plastic face shield, “in a mask.”
I, a...
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