Bojing Fu: The Cyclist’s World

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Posted on November 29, 2015  by Bojing Fu

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Bojing Fu: The Cyclist’s World

On Saturday, Nov. 8 and Sunday, Nov. 9, Philly Bike Expo hit the Pennsylvania Convention Center (1101 Arch St.). Exhibitors came from all over the United States to show their work and collections, and thousands of cyclists and bike fans visited this event.

Entering from the Broad Street Entrance, visitors got two ways to start. Seminars, demos and other recreational activities were held on the first floor, and exhibits were laid out on the second floor.

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Exhibits include bicycle collections, bicycle manufactures, custom framebuilders, cycling components, apparel and accessories manufacturers and artisans. “The show was a pleasure for me because the bicycles were appreciated, and that gives me pleasure,” said Gary,  a collector of vintage bicycles.

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Attracted by the great wood work, many visitors stopped at Woody Bicycles’ display. Came from Cape May, NJ, Max, the founder, would happily and proudly demonstrate his work to every interested visitors.

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Apart from the exhibitions, the Bike Expo also provided an area for cyclists to try out some special gears. Assisted by instructors and demonstrators, visitors or potential customers could ride their favorite bikes and test out their fancy features.

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Overall, this exposition was not only a meetup for bike fans, but also a precious annual opportunity for bicycle manufacturers, framebuilders, artisans and sellers of cycling components, apparel and accessories to promote their products and increase their business reputation.

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Photography and Text by Bojing Fu, Copyright 2015.

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About the Author: Bojing Fu (Irene) is a second-year master student in the Graduate School of Education, University of Pennsylvania, majoring in the field of Intercultural Communication.

Sierra Levin: What Does it Mean to Become “Sick”?

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Photography and Poetry by Sierra Levin

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What does it mean to become “sick”?

Am I another diagnosis you can fix real quick?

Do you even know what is really wrong?

Because this pain I’m in has been felt for too long.

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It’s beyond the labs and tests that you run,

Something wrong with my brain that seems to have won.

When my panic gets triggered I feel I’m stuck under water

And the hell comes ablaze making this hospital room hotter

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What does it mean to become “sick”?

This pain in my chest feels heavy as a brick.

I’ve tried to escape this body for good

I’m helpless here and feel so misunderstood

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I don’t want to cause others to suffer

But these meds aren’t helping me get any tougher

I don’t have the energy to want to live,

I feel wasted and have nothing left to give.

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What does it mean to become “sick”?

As they listen to my heart race so quick

I want to be happy but I can’t get help in this place

I’m in and out so much these nurses remember my face

Like an endless hall with a revolving door that never ends

And all the medications that the doctor recommends

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Please let me go I can’t bare it anymore

It’s suffocating and I feel like such a chore

I’ve tried to be strong but I can’t forget the pain

It’s always there like an irremovable stain

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What does it mean to really become “sick”?

I am not a diagnosis you can fix real quick.

I don’t understand what in my brain went so wrong.

And this pain I’m in has been felt for too long.

Photography and Poetry by Sierra Levin, Copyright 2015

About The Author: Sierra Levin is a senior enrolled in the School of Nursing, University of Pennsylvania, Class of 2016. To read more articles by Sierra Levin, type in author’s name at the search bar located at the bottom of the page, click the search icon.

Ria Vaidya: Wired

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Posted on November 17th, 2015 by Ria Vaidya

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Wired

In today’s generation, we are plagued by the constant need to be connected to the world through forms of technology. It is as if our phones are no longer just an accessory, but have rather become an appendage. What happens however, when you take a girl who is transfixed to her devices and put her in a place with minimal service and maximum natural beauty?

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Kana took a weekend trip with her family to a cabin up in New Hampshire; the idea behind the vacation was for it to be a getaway from their daily lives – to appreciate nature in its rawest form. However, the idea of struggling to open her Snapchats dawned on Kana and she decided to go on a little adventure around her cabin in order to find a good signal.

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After much aimless wandering, she was finally able to send iMessages to her several group chats. Completely oblivious to her surroundings, her eyes remained transfixed on her phone. Unable to appreciate the falling leaves of autumn or the pebbles around the benches, she found herself in a state of bliss. As she regularly switched between apps, the fresh air surrounding her was not a concern.

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Instead, she remained focused on finding the perfect filter for her next Instagram post. Suddenly, she remembered that technology, unlike nature, has a battery life. Left on her own in the outdoors without a working phone, Kana began to curl into her own shell. Rather than trying to appreciate her surroundings and simply remaining unwired, Kana felt helpless and more irritable than ever. Her fingers were restless and her mind could focus on only one thing: her phone. Never had she felt more naked.

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Photography and Text by Ria Vaidya, Copyright 2015

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About The Author: Ria Vaidya is a sophomore enrolled in the College of the University of Pennsylvania, Class of 2018. To read additional articles by Ria Vaidya, go to the bottom of the page, type in author’s name and then click the search icon.

Katherine Jania: Reflection

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Photography and Text by Katherine Jania

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 REFLECTION

“90% of my outfits seemed inspired by the movie Oliver Twist.” 

Noël grinned looking at her childhood photo. She wore a paperboy hat and a forced smile, her mother proudly holding her hand. Not seeing her for 7 years, I was insistent to meet when she called that she would be passing through my town.

“I was so carefree.”

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“People hear me, but I don’t think they actually listen.”

She wanted to tell me her story. Fill in the details and peel away the façade of perfection her mother would gossip to family and friends. I made a mental note to go to CVS for an air refresher as she pulled a cigarette from her freshly opened pack. I sipped on my wine as she began.

“It hurt, because it mattered.”

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Finishing her third cigarette she continued, telling of a time where her aches no longer came from the sting of a scraped knee. She held my gaze as dark mascara streams  ran down her face. She was raw and unarmored, embracing her hurt as if it reminded her she was just human.

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Noël tapped the edge of the bowl, which she reassigned as her ashtray for the day. Her pack of cigarettes was almost empty, and she just finished telling me how empowering it was confronting her former boss.My stomach still hurt from our prior 5 minute laughing fit of how ending up in handcuffs got her a free dinner and the number of a cute policeman. Who knew the former Valedictorian prep school Class President had a wild side.

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“And that’s what brings me here.” 

She finished, her voice trailing off as her eyes wandered out the window. She smiled, a hopeful smile, unforced and organic. Three hours, one pack of Marlboros, three glasses of wine, one laughing fit, and four tissues later, she was finally done.

 

Photography and Text by Katherine Jania, Copyright 2015.

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About The Author: Katherine Jania is a senior enrolled in the Wharton School of Business, University of Pennsylvania.  Class of 2015