February 2025

By Iris Dionysiou 778 different drivers have raced in Formula 1 since the start of the sport in 1950, out of those 778, only one is black. His name is Lewis Hamilton, and he is the greatest F1 driver the sport has ever seen. With 7 world driver championships, 105 wins, 202 podiums, and a knighthood granted by the Prince of Wales for his contribution to motorsports, Sir Lewis Hamilton is the most successful F1 driver of all time, but his legacy extends far beyond the sport. Hamilton’s tireless battles for equality set him apart in a sport dominated by predominantly white men from privileged backgrounds. Formula 1 is historically a sport for the elites, and for Hamilton to even have a chance in the sport, on top of his generational talent and firm determination, he also needed the sacrifice of his father, who had to work 3 jobs to support his junior career. Financial difficulties, however, were nothing compared to the systemic racism and societal challenges he endured throughout. As one of many examples of the discrimination he faced, Nelson Piquet, a former F1 champion himself, has on multiple occasions used racist and homophobic language to refer to Hamilton, with the current F1 champion downplaying and dismissing these remarks, further showing the sport’s general disregard for the systemic issues Lewis Hamilton has been fighting against all these years. Racism in Formula 1 isn’t always so blatant; Hamilton’s on-track achievements are often undermined by the media in ways that less successful white drivers never have to face. One might argue that dominant athletes always face hate simply for being too good, however, Hamilton’s case is much more nuanced and to hide that behind such a pretense is an unfair and dismissive way to mask bigoted mindsets as fair criticisms or personal opinions. This type of subtle racism is what perpetuates such issues and should not be overlooked. Since joining F1 in 2007, his advocacy for diversity and inclusion in the sport has been nothing short of groundbreaking. In 2020 he launched the Hamilton Commission, a research initiative aimed at increasing diversity in motorsport. From taking the knee before races and wearing a “Black Lives Matter” shirt on the podium to decorating his racing helmet with pro-LGBT+ sentiments, Hamilton’s actions, often breaking the controversial “no-politics” guideline set by the governing body of the sport, have sparked crucial conversations in the world of motorsports. His struggle for equality goes far beyond F1, his first-hand experience of an education system that worked against him has led to the creation of Mission 44, a charity focused on inclusive education, employment opportunities, and youth empowerment, through which he has funded scholarships for underrepresented students and collaborated with organizations to create programs that address systemic inequality. The path Lewis Hamilton has led in the world of motorsports will be evident long after he retires. His relentless efforts for change have pushed governing bodies of the sport to implement inclusion policies, ensuring that future generations of drivers and engineers have an equal chance to succeed in a sport that has been sidelining them since its beginning. There is still a long way to go and thanks to Lewis Hamilton the path has now been paved. His story shows that greatness isn’t just about breaking records but breaking barriers. The legacy he leaves behind isn’t just one of unrelenting talent, but also of rewriting the narrative of what is possible in F1. As we celebrate Black History Month, Lewis Hamilton’s unwavering resilience, on and off track, stands as a reminder that true champions don’t just charge to win races–they charge to change the world.

By: La Diavola Young Verron paced around the room, his footsteps quickening as he brushed his brow, still damp with sweat despite a mild and fair morning sun. He wore finer clothing than he had anticipated, since Davila always had her ways of bending his will. At first, he refused to meet with her entirely. Then he made a compromise, insisting that it take place far from the City of Faria. Now, he found himself in a parlour by one of the city’s most coveted boulangeries, and the scent of freshly baked bread flooded the street. If he was not blessed with fortune, he would be subject to answering the questions of his milieu, who may find him. The parlour itself was wrapped in red tones, with brocade tapestries and dark wood panels. The dim crimson glow of a hearth, its sluggish licks of fire warming him. His silhouette stood still against the flames, exuding impatience and an eagerness to get over this endeavour.  Verron had an ambition that gnawed. It was the kind that ripened in the shade of neglect. Unlike others whose accomplishments enchanted and impressed, he remained unnoticed, as his ability needed careful attention to realize its full potential. He was intelligent, poised, and determined. But alas, who cared for one whose name was so far down the line of inheritance? Whose claim was challenged by children? He was only nineteen, a fifth son, a little more than a formality in his family hierarchy. While his brothers and nephews flourished with silks and cashmere, he made do with cotton and wool. Arrogance, born of his obscurity, tore away at him, and his veneer of confidence began to be done away with, replaced by a plaque of sheer vanity.  A half-hour passed, and the nutty pastries across the street stirred his hunger. He had not eaten since the night before, and time felt slower as each minute sharpened his craving. His focus drifted until he was jolted awake by the sound of the door opening.

By: Khaliya Rajan Inspired by Atlas of the Heart by Brené Brown Anxiety Anxiety creeps through the body making its way up to the brain, ready to take control. Thoughts begin to roll as heavy as bowling balls, knocking over pins in its path that always return. Weights fall upon us as we ponder every option for the future, weighing us down, we wonder if we’re on the right path. Anxiety never leaves. Anguish Anguish floods the brain, telling us to shut our eyes and hearts and by obeying we hope it will numb our agony. It seeps through our veins making our hearts beat  faster than a cheetah’s run, louder than a gong, swifter than a punch to the stomach. Anguish leaves us breathless and powerless.  Contempt Contempt is what we feel when arrogance blinds us, making us  forget we are equal. Contempt boils and bubbles within the body slowly growing for those who have hurt us. It lingers within us, before gradually slipping through our fingers. Like a bell it dismisses us, deeming us as unworthy as  shattered glass. The goodbye is quick-if it even happens at all. Contempt engulfs and swallows us whole. Jealousy Jealousy comes swiftly, ready to destroy a relationship before disappearing, leaving us to  fix the mistake alone. Jealousy is the green-eyed monster staring us down until we conform to its innate, savage desires. Jealousy feeds on our emptiness. Regret Regret makes us squirm, and wish we could leave our own bodies. We hope it will fade as quickly as a drop of water spilling onto the floor. Instead regret burns and itches at the skin, relentless to how long and hard we scratch it. The actions we took seem wrong and the actions we forewent seem right. Regret forces us to overthink. Guilt Guilt causes us to blame someone else, someone innocent, someone near, projecting our sorrow and regret onto them so we can grieve lightly and leave the weight of responsibility within the depths of our hearts. Begin again; lose someone; begin again. The guilt shall die with us never to be spoken, never to be known, never to be understood. They are silver not gold, showered in shame, carrying an unexplainable weight, stuck beneath clouds because we couldn’t cope and expiate. Guilt, because we know we have done erred. Loneliness Loneliness is often suffered by those who shine the brightest, ignored by those whose light shines dim craving yours. You fade away within the background, observing but unable to participate. You miss life. You miss people. The connections you once had, worth more than a ton of gold, have begun to fade and wither. Loneliness, you long for someone-anyone to-understand you. Confusion Confusion fills the empty space within us meant for understanding. It swirls within our heads, bringing us the need for clarification. Confusion- the universal experience.  Nostalgia Nostalgia-an old photograph, a childhood song, the worn teddy bear stuffed into the back of the closet. The memory of a happier time, when smiles were engraved upon our faces and we shined as bright as the sun. Nostalgia, the feeling of remembering. Sympathy Sympathy is the feeling of our stomachs dropping for someone else. Though you may have never been in their position, your insides crumble to mush anyway. It’s a feeling intertwined with pity and gratefulness to have not been in their situation. Sympathy makes us human. Trust Trust leaves our hearts vulnerable to pain. It is the key to a successful relationship, but can be splintered in a second, broken in an hour, gone in a day. Like the reparations after a war, rebuilding trust takes longer than a clock’s full cycle. Built from small acts of vulnerability where we are shown love.Our hearts are open and wanting, but when closed lock everyone out. Trust is a risk. Joy Joy is the genuine smile that spreads across your face-not the posed and practiced smile worn for others. Hidden within the depths of our hearts, seemingly disappearing as we suffer through dark moments, but shining when we need it most. Joy is what makes us who we are. Humility Humility, needs to be nurtured and tended to in order to thrive within us. Its the knowing that we are one fish within a vast ocean, a star in the sky, a second in a decade. Humility brings us the desire to learn and understand our abilities. Humility is our anchor to the ground.

By: Jisara W One of the defining features that sets us apart from non-living things is our ability to feel—to experience, express, and respond to different emotions. Our brains play a pivotal role in shaping these emotional experiences, particularly the limbic system. Within this system, the amygdala, hippocampus, and hypothalamus work together to interpret emotional signals and regulate our responses. One of these strong emotions inhibited by humans is none other than love. The phrase, “All is fair in love and war”, even implies that being in love can drive us to irrationality, to do things that are illogical, cruel and out of character.  From a scientific perspective, love is simply a series of chemical reactions. When we fall in love, the brain releases a cocktail of neurotransmitters and hormones such as dopamine, serotonin, and oxytocin. Therefore, love is undeniably real, at least biologically—evident with how our body responds to love. In fact, there have been studies using MRI scans which revealed that when individuals view pictures of someone they love, their brain responds with neural patterns seen in those experiencing addiction—triggering the reward and pleasure centers of the brain. In addition, the foolish choices we make can be attributed to the feel-good chemicals overriding our rational thought, an effect similar to taking a powerful drug.  On the other hand, philosophers and poets might argue that love as something transcendent—one that defies logical explanation and carries meaning beyond the confines of biology. In the modern day, people have begun to see love as not a magical miracle or a hoax, but as a choice. It is something that one chooses to fall into, and to continue even if the initial spark wears down. Whether viewed through the lens of a scientist or the heart of a poet, love will continue to shape our lives in mysterious ways. So, as Valentine’s Day approaches, perhaps the real question isn’t whether love is real or a hallucination, but rather how we choose to experience and define it.

By: Jasper Jose “Sorry, can’t make it that day ( >⌓<｡),” he sent in the group chat. It was yet another excuse, though what was at stake mattered more. It wasn’t that Sam had been avoiding his friends, though he knew they charged him guilty. He didn’t like that they thought of him less, but alas, what could he do? They would never understand. Besides, they were likely busy anyway, for they had the company of their other friends and girlfriends to fill the time, a carousel of people whose presence they preferred over his. He viewed himself as a discarded secondary to their priorities. To him, the human desire for connection is nothing but a leftover trait in passing evolution. In ancient times, surviving meant building social bonds. Nowadays, we have more than we need. We live in a world where more people suffer from an overabundance of food than they do from starvation. It is nothing but a vestigial feature that can be safely discarded, like one’s appendix or their wisdom teeth. However, maybe that was just another excuse. He didn’t know for sure. It was foolish—he thought—to think whatever is considered “good” in life can be a relative thing, that whether the bad was truly bad depended on perspective. It was ridiculous. As if the ascetic ideal was something to live for! No, to him, those were merely people lying to themselves. What was considered ‘good’ could be clearly defined. It was something measurable and tangible, with a direct connection to the material world, possessing value in relation to the Earth. For him, those came in the form of medals, fluctuating from event to event, but the best prizes were usually found at Provincials. Hardware was the cornerstone of what he believed to be good. These were his experiences, effort, and achievements made tangible. He could hold them in his hands. Nothing else mattered. For the past few months, as his junior year was beginning to unfold, he felt a sense of urgency to complete more than needed. That year, as his shelf became too full of accolades, ranging from sports competitions to slam poetry, he realized that he had been building a fortress rather than a home. Each medal, each trophy, was another stone stacked high to protect him from the vulnerability of wanting what he had spent so long convincing himself he didn’t need. But as Valentine’s Day loomed closer, he caught himself staring at his phone longer than usual, going over their messages again. They still longed for his presence. Even with his excuses and absences, they continued to invite him. Perhaps he wasn’t as insignificant as he believed. The realization came quietly, like sunlight creeping through curtains he hadn’t bothered to draw. Maybe love wasn’t a thing of the past, but a silent, enduring force that persisted even without words. So, he sighed and typed. “yk what, I can make it… ” The response was immediate. An endless stream of texts, full of dumb LeBron reaction memes. He set his phone down and glanced at his shelves, at the medals gleaming in neat rows. They still held significance, but so did this. Perhaps love and connection weren’t just illusions. For the first time in months, he felt lighter. Perhaps the greatest victories were those shared with others after all.