This boat seems like a “third space” for us. At the ship, our dress code is white, and my best friends joined this party. Because of the influence of the dress code, English pop music, alcohol, and boat movement. Before we got in the boat, most of us were strangers. But now, we met each other and danced with each other. We seemed to be together. When the sunset moment showed up, our vibe at the boat reached the top. We danced and took pictures of the sunset moment. At that moment, I formed a sense of belonging.

The boat party could be expressed as a “third space.”. From my personal view, I think the boat‘s location on the river reflects the crossing of cultures， identities, and race boundaries. Before we went into the boat, these boundaries still existed. However, these boundaries do not exist in this third space.

By Wenxin Xu

The railing as a central symbol of exclusion and tension not only impedes the cat's natural course of action, but also restricts my mode of thinking, which demonstrates our reliance on established paths or logical patterns in our daily lives. The way the cat chooses to cross the railing actually opens up new perspectives on boundaries and creativity. Her act of crossing gives meaning to transformation, and her action of crossing the borderline of the railings actually proves that borders are not fixed barriers, but dynamic spaces that can go on evolving.

Likewise I realized that the cat's way of crossing the railing was a interesting understanding of the way she accepted the existence of the railing as a barrier while at the same time inventing new ways of coexisting, i.e., going through the gaps. This search for possibilities within boundaries reminds me of the process of cultural integration, where different cultures come into contact with each other, but the interaction and integration of people from different cultures can help to build bridges between them.
 
The cat’s actions created new possibilities and made me aware of the importance of dynamic choices. When faced with the challenge of the railing, the cat could choose to cross it, demonstrating that seemingly defined boundaries can, in fact, be fluid and changeable. This can also apply to life—faced with challenges or obstacles, the cat’s creativity prompts me to reflect on whether there might be more options or more creative ways to approach them.

By Xinran Liu

_{I left my city for San Francisco}

_{Took a free ride off a billionaire's jet} 

_{L.A, I'm from nowhere, who am I to love you?} 

_{L.A, I've got nothing, who am I to love you when I'm feeling this way and I've got nothing to offer?}  

_{L.A, not quite the city that never sleeps} 

_{Not quite the city that wakes, but the city that dreams, for sure} 

_{If by dreams you mean in nightmares} 

_{L.A, I'm a dreamer, but I'm from nowhere, who am I to dream?} 

_{—— Lana Del Rey, “LA Who Am I to Love You”}

Leake Street near the Waterloo Station in London lies a graffiti tunnel, a riot of colors and expressions where a piece of Dunhuang-inspired mural caught my eyes. This mural, a symbol of Chinese culture, becomes an anchor in a sea of urban artistry, mirroring my journey of self-discovery while studying abroad in the UK.

Every time I pass through this tunnel, it felt like traversing through a living borderland, where diverse worlds and identities converge and dialogue. The vibrant walls with myriad graffiti, depicts not just artistic expression but also the cultural, social, and personal transformations occurring within me. Amidst this dazzling chaos, the mural offers a moment of connection to my heritage, reminding me of my roots while I navigate the complexities of a new cultural landscape.

When I first arrived in London, it felt like stepping onto a stage where every actor already knew their lines. Just like this graffiti tunnel, the city presents a borderland of cultures and expectations where I often found myself dazzled and lost in translation. The nostalgic, emotional recollection of life that I quote above from American singer-songwriter Lana Del Rey contrasts with my own. She muses in her poem, "I left my city for San Francisco," and similarly, I left my home for London, chasing dreams and grappling with the realities of a foreigner.

Navigating life in London is my journey through Nepantla, that space where personal growth is full of tension and struggle. Each day is a negotiation of identities, as I attempt to reconcile the person I am back home with who London seems to demand I become. Lana’s voice, a tender echo of longing in her poem, mirrors my own internal dialogue: "LA, who am I to love you?" In London, who am I to claim this city, this new life as my own?

The academic expectations are quite different from what I was accustomed to. But it is not just academic that shaped me. The city taught me resilience. The initial loneliness morphs into a solitude that fostered deep self-reflection and creativity. In this Nepantla, I find my voice, much like Lana found hers amidst the disconnect of LA. As she wrestled with her identity in relation to the city, I also wrestle with mine in the context of London's grand narrative.

Dreams here are both made and deferred. The city's vibrant cultural mosaic inspires me, showing me the possibilities. I began to see my struggles not as barriers but as the very materials from which to bridge my aspirations. For me, London is no longer a city but a canvas, on which I can sketch a new beginning. It is a place of borderlands where various forces clash and cooperate, and Nepantla, where through the tension and struggle, transformation is not just possible but inevitable.