Contributing writer

Margaux R.E. Winter

Latest Content


Buddhism Behind Barbed Wire

“Once she told me that story… I thought, 'One day I need to write a book about what families like hers went through.'”


How to Hold a Room in Silence

Slam poet Phil T. Kaye talks with FM about the power of performance and what it means to be creative.


Rhapsody in Rainbow

Pink is "not historically a color.”


The Not-Nun in Mather House

“I was so adamant. I needed to become a nun. The monastic life was captivating to me.”


Steve Almond Just Can’t Throw Shit Out

For the enlightenment of non-males around the globe, Steve Almond's essay uncovered the secrets of male-centric, obsessive accumulation of junk, and why men just can’t throw shit out.


VES Better Have My Money

For Cohen, the commercialization of art exists as a necessity. In a sense, the limitations of the policy prepare students for a life of professional artistry. Sacrifices of artistic vision are constantly made due to affordability.


David, David, & DNA

“Everybody’s story is wrong about who they are and where they came from.”


When "Knock-Me-Down Fever" Hit Harvard

President Lowell knew he had a hard decision to make—one that would set a precedent for other institutions of higher education. He could either heed the warnings of doctors across the country or risk the health of his students.


A Look at the Dark Room Collective and the Psychedelic Club

When the poet Kevin Young ’92 wrote in his book of cultural criticism, The Grey Album: On the Blackness of Blackness, that “once you’re in, you’re in forever,” he did not mean Harvard, or his house, or a final club. Young meant the Dark Room Collective, one of the dozens of unofficial intellectual societies that have cropped up at Harvard over the centuries.