Rayiah Ross's take on how even though society hates reboots you cannot help but chase that nostalgia you felt with the original.

Dear Students, I’m writing this poem or letter or essay or whatever this ends up being because you mean a lot to me and I don’t know how else to express this without wasting your class time and/or money.

The music faded away. The screen lights dimmed. The credits started to roll. I hovered my fingers over the touchpad for a split second of indecision and then pressed replay. I was watching a much anticipated short film expanding the breadth of my universe through a song by my favorite artist.

I used to have a notebook that held all of my creations. These creations were words that lingered on a white page. Somehow, these words that sat alongside each other built some of the pieces that I absolutely adored. I think of poetry as my first steps into the writing world.

One of the first friends I came out to was a woman a lot like me. We’d both been raised Catholic and were white women of a certain class and liberal sensibility. Balancing mothering and working. Critical of and still participating in the patriarchy.