Welcome back! Hope all of you had a summer season of equal or greater quality than you’d expected. If not, The Grail is back and ready for volume four. Inside, you’ll find various summer goings-on and all the kit you’ll need for the coming year. Confused about the blood-splattered Amanda Reed in the Quad? Look no further than page (2). Grace had quite the time in a hat museum, the misadventures of which are detailed within (5). Our full column circus is back in style with a DeSastre article (in glorious black and white) (8). The Cultural Column takes a look at works of fiction by black authors (10). Miss Lonely Hearts deals with that all-familiar spectre haunting portland: Clarkies (9). Finally, we remember a fallen friend, colleague, and community member. Mark Angeles ’15 was killed while riding his bike just days after graduating last May. Inside is a small attempt to give recognition to him and those who will miss him (1).
Brian, Grace, Jordan, Maddy, Lauren, Vikram
News & Features
On May 29th, hundreds of Portlanders gathered on their bikes at Colonel Summers City Park. From close friends to complete strangers, all came to ride in memory of Mark Angeles ’15, who passed away two days earlier. Leaving the park at rush-hour, the pack of cyclists rode along 39th Avenue, proudly slowing the flow of cars to a crawl. They passed the white bike memorializing Mark on the corner of 39th and Gladstone, the intersection where Mark was struck and killed by truck on May 27th. On June 14th, friends and colleagues gathered to speak at a memorial service, which preceded another group ride around Reed. Yesterday, the Bike Co-op was dedicated to Mark, and the ceremony was followed by one last group ride.The numerous memorial services and bike rides held this summer, as well as the newly-founded Mark Angeles Memorial Fellowship, serve as a visible testament to the profound impact Mark had on this school and, indeed, everyone who met him. Let us honor his memory every time we ride.
My first night on campus — just over three years ago — I went out looking for the party. I don’t really know what I expected, but what I found was a clutch of crusty upperclassmen, crouching in Sallyport sipping 40s (oh! the lost days of Olde English in glass) and keeping a weather eye out for impressionable kids like me.
Emilio Pucci. James Beard. Gary Snyder. Stripadillas. Reedies have always had a reputation for innovation and creativity. Case in point, Emily Merfeld. At first glance, one might think her skirt is just a skirt, but she in fact has turned a shirt into a skirt. The creativity does not stop there! She continues to build on it with the contrasting plum purple of her skirt adding to the orange sherbet palette, starting the year in a burst of color.
Miss Lonely Hearts
Dear Miss Lonely Hearts,
In the Spring, I signed up to take a course at Lewis and Clark College through Reed. I went to our registrar’s office and filled out my paperwork, and Ben promised me that all would be figured out over the summer. On the Monday of O-Week, however, a scary thing happened. I checked my mail and addressed to (my name and mailstop) 3203 SE Woodstock Blvd was a tuition bill for $22,000 from Lewis and Clark! Following this obviously startling bill, I’ve started receiving installments of the Weekly Bark, which I must say is both more concise and perhaps more exciting than SB Info. I’ve even considered buying a Pioneers sweatshirt, and have entered their bookstore raffle to see if they will pay for my textbooks for this semester. I want to maintain my Reed spirit but their campus is beautiful, their lawns aren’t filled with smokers, and I swear, even their squirrels seem a little more alive than ours. They crawl up the trees filled with youthful vigor and don’t seem to be plagued with a sense of stress about upcoming paper due dates.
What should I do, Miss Lonely Hearts? I just want to be able to enjoy Daft Ball without hearing jokes about what a Reedie and a Clarkie have in common. (answer: they both applied to Reed.)
Reed’s Confused Pioneer
If you were asked what the most important political or social development in the United States has been in this past year, what would you say? Donald Trump, right? Nah, or at least I hope not. A healthy amount of you would probably say the continued development and growth of the Black Lives Matter movement, and rightly so. As such, one of the most timely and essential books to come out in the recent months is Ta-Nehisi Coates’s Between the World and Me. Taking on the form of James Baldwin’s The Fire Next Time, Coates writes a long essay-letter to his son, describing his hopes and worries about his son’s continued existence in a society that actively destroys black and brown bodies. Coates’s sentiments are heartrending, and one leaves this book feeling both furious and numb. Put simply, Between the World and Me is a Serious Book. But it is also a serious book, which is why I’m not discussing it here today. I’m discussing funny books.