Miniso x Barbie Retro Mini Bluetooth Speaker

Barbie X Miniso, Dominican Republic, 2023, Plastic, length: 11.56”

How much of me exists beyond the things I gather? Every day, I find myself asking this question because each thing I own carries a piece of me. Two years ago, I found this speaker in a Miniso store in the Dominican Republic. I did not need it. But I wanted it—not for its function, not for its sound quality (which is, objectively, questionable), but for what it represented.

The speaker exists in contradiction; it is stuck between wanting to be a cool, edgy piece of technology and an old person's prized possession from the 1950s. As I stood in the store, I realized that no matter what I played on it—whether it was Radiohead or Future—the music would never quite match its strong personality. And maybe that is why I bought it.

I, too, am torn between versions of myself. I convince myself that I either must commit to the polished, put-together version of myself or lean fully into the chaos. This speaker reminds me that I do not have to choose, that I can exist in the in-between, switching frequencies as I please. Perhaps I exist not beyond the things I gather but within them. – Tanishaa R.

Mini Bottle of Tajin Seasoning

Horacio Fernandez, Guadalajara, Mexico, circa 1985, Glass, paper, chili, lime, and salt, height: 2.75”

What is something all women want from a man? Some want flowers, others want a ring. I will tell you what they do not want: a miniature bottle of Tajin seasoning. Before leaving for college, my boyfriend of two years told me he had a gift for me. My heart was beating out of my chest. I thought that I would finally get the promise ring I so desired. You can imagine the utter disappointment that washed over me when he handed me this little bottle of chili powder, lime zest, and salt. “Keep this with you at all times and think of it as me always being with you no matter how far apart we are,” he told me. “I can’t afford a ring, but I do want you to be my forever so, for now, can this be enough?” I was upset at first, but I have come to love this little bottle of spices; like our love, its contents do not have an expiration date. Who is it to say a ring is the only thing that can be used to represent the hopes of everlasting love? – Zariah S.

Sitting Elephant Plushie

Toy Factory LLC, San Antonio, Texas, United States, circa March 2022, Plush fabric, cotton, and polyester fibers, height: 7”

My sister gave me this elephant plushie upon my arrival to the United States. It serves as a reminder that my family is looking out for me even though they cannot physically be around to help me out and that, even though people might see me as odd or strange, there are people who care about me.

It is the only object I have had since I started college, and it has survived countless move-ins and commutes to my various dorms and apartments over the years.

The elephant is red and purple; people might find this strange since elephants do not usually look that way. I like this plushie for its strangeness—it reminds me of myself.

Since I left my home in Nigeria, I have constantly struggled to survive in a new environment and become someone here with little available support. My plushie has been with me through failed classes, lost jobs, and even times when I almost got kicked out of school and evicted from my home for not being able to pay tuition and rent.

I love this object because it reminds me that I am not alone. – Ben B/E.

Puppy Keychain

Line Friends, Myeong-dong, Seoul, South Korea, circa 2023, Polyester and metal, height: 4.5”

How do you find a piece of home on the other side of the world? Home is a feeling, not a place. It is a sense of comfort found in the smallest details. For me, home is the jingle of metal tags as small, fluffy paws race to greet me.

A few weeks into my study abroad program in South Korea, I was missing my dog back in Virginia. I found a piece of home in this puppy keychain. I had not left my bed all day when an advertisement for a keychain featuring a familiar-looking dog appeared on my timeline. Though not usually one to make impulse purchases, I hopped on the next bus to the Line Friends store in Myeong-dong to buy it.

This bundle of polyester fiber and rattling metal became an anchor in a place where everything felt unfamiliar. Its rounded form, embroidered features, and apricot fur drew me back to the nostalgia of childhood plushies and the lifelong companionship of my labradoodle. Now it hangs beside my desk at school. I am still far from home, but I always feel connected. – Mira C.

Water Bottle

32oz Actives Water Bottle with Spout Lid, Takeya, United States, 2020, Stainless Steel, height: 12”

People are like water: reflective, adaptive, and ever-changing. To me, this water bottle is more than a vessel for liquid: it is a tangible representation of me.

I initially purchased it to track my water intake while losing weight; its bright yellow color acted as a visual reminder to drink. I went on to lose ninety pounds. Since then, it has been my hydration companion as I conquered new challenges and fears, such as moving for college and co-ops. I have learned deeply about myself and the world around me. I have accomplished so much of what I once thought was impossible: losing weight, surviving city life, leading campus clubs, landing my first paying job, and supporting myself independently hundreds of miles away from home.

As time marches on, new stickers are added, new scuff marks are etched into its exterior, and I continue to evolve as a person. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever outgrow the bottle: as the wear and tear multiplies, I may be forced to start anew. For now, I carry this bottle with me everywhere as a reminder of how far I have come and how far I will go. – Adrianna D.

Husky Utility Knife

Husky, China, 2014, Wood and steel, length: 9.06”

One day while visiting home, my grandfather asked me if I wanted this utility knife. I had no idea what I would use it for. Little did I know that this gift would become sentimental and an object I would use almost every day. Although my grandfather and I never interacted much while I lived with him, we would always have our moments when I helped him complete the more demanding physical tasks around the house. After I moved out, I no longer got to see often the things that reminded me of him. He recently passed away and I suddenly discovered new life in this knife. At work, I was given a flimsy plastic utility knife to help with the breakdown of boxes and mine fell apart within a week. My grandfather's knife is made from more reliable materials, and its weight almost feels like a helping hand from my grandfather, guiding me everywhere I go. – Devon M.

Gutenberg Press Collectible Magnet

circa 2010-2018, Paint, magnet, and polyester resin, height: 3.25”

For me, this magnet provokes thought on the power of language. The original Gutenberg Press transformed the way knowledge was shared, making it possible to print multiple copies of text quickly rather than relying on handwritten copies. Though the magnet’s press is inoperable, this replica serves as a reminder of how one machine reshaped the spread of ideas and literacy.

Its painted grooves mimic the texture of aged wood, while its detailed screw mechanism, pressing plate, and faux-paper sheet gesture towards the labor once required to print a single page. However, unlike the original press, this object is frozen in time. The absence of printed text on the page it holds is a quiet reminder of the countless ideas waiting to be shared.

Just as the Gutenberg Press ushered in the spread of literacy and learning, this miniature replica continues the tradition, sparking curiosity and reflection on the enduring power of human creativity. In its humble form, clinging to a refrigerator, the magnet invites us to consider how a single innovation reshaped the world and continues to influence the flow of ideas today. – Joseph C.

Dalecarlian horse

Circa late 20th century, Wood, height: 6”

A cynical part of me resents what my Dala horse represents. I have never been to Sweden. I have never danced the maypole, and I cannot speak the language. No one in my family has lived in Sweden since Big Erick emigrated in 1901. My Dala horse is just cheap commercialism designed to profit off my desire to connect to a distant heritage.

Originally produced as children’s toys, Dalecarlian horses have become a national symbol. Every year, hundreds of thousands of these handmade figurines are sold in every tourist trap and souvenir shop in Sweden and in towns across the United States that have turned their own diaspora communities into attractions.

Still, despite my cynicism, I chose to carefully wrap my Dala horse to bring it across the country to college. I choose to let it take up precious real estate on my crowded desk. I care about my Dala horse for one simple reason. If this symbol of consumerism is the only tie I have to Sweden—to my family and to their stories—then I will treasure this little red horse and all that it represents. – Sarah F.

My Neighbor Totoro Mini Backpack

Loungefly, officially licensed by Studio Ghibli, United States, circa 2020, Faux leather (polyurethane), polyester lining, and metal hardware, height: 10”

This My Neighbor Totoro mini backpack is a bridge between my childhood memories and the present. When I was growing up, My Neighbor Totoro was more than a movie to me; it was a source of comfort, imagination, and joy. I remember curling up on the couch, mesmerized by Totoro’s gentle presence, the rustling trees, and the soothing lull of the countryside. The film's themes of wonder, innocence, and connection to nature shaped my early understanding of the world. Now, carrying this backpack feels like holding onto a piece of that childhood magic. Its soft, rounded design and the familiar face of Totoro serve as a daily reminder of the warmth and security I felt when watching the film. The choice of faux leather adds another layer of meaning. Just as My Neighbor Totoro teaches us about care for the environment, this material reflects modern values of sustainability and ethical consumption. More than just a fandom item, this backpack represents my personal connection to My Neighbor Totoro; it is a cherished reminder that the wonder of childhood never truly fades. – Maple T.

Wacom Intous Art Tablet

Wacom Co., Ltd., Kazo, Saitama, Japan, 2015, Plastic, width: 10.875”

In memory of the past, all I have left to remind me of your comforting façade is this Wacom tablet. When I got this tablet for my thirteenth birthday, my childish brain could never have comprehended this gift’s lasting consequences on my artistic journey. And now that the wool has been lifted from my eyes, that sweet naivete I used to carry forgotten, I still have this gift. I hold onto it and continue to use it despite how much I fear I am on the wrong path. I gaze onto its semi-reflective surface and see my past self staring back, oblivious to his newly sealed fate. Just like this gift has helped change my art, it has helped change me as well. No longer will I feel protected by your presence. No longer will I ever be young again. I mourn for your short-lived time with me, but you, the past, cannot last forever. I can never dwell on you, but I must thank you for this tool of growth and change. – Alex J.

112 Reckoner k2 skis

K2 Skis, Seattle, Washington, United States, 2021, Aspen wood, fiberglass, Ptex plastic, steel edges, abs plastic, rubber dampeners, and epoxy, length: 66.9291”

Skiing has always been more than just a sport to me—it is where I feel the freest. It is the rush of weightlessness midair, the rhythm of carving through fresh snow, and the deep connection to the mountain and the people who ride it. Skiing forces me to be fully present, adapting to ever-changing terrain and weather. It is humbling, unpredictable, and endlessly rewarding.

As a ski instructor, I saw firsthand how powerful that feeling can be. Watching someone link their first turns or finally trust their edges, I could see the exact moment they felt it—the spark, the shift, the realization that skiing is more than just sliding on snow. It is movement, expression, and pure joy. That is what keeps me coming back too, always chasing that next turn, that next drop, that next perfect run.

The Reckoner 112 is the ski that helps me do that. More than just gear, it holds onto every sketchy landing, every deep day, and every memory made on the mountain. And in the end, that is what skiing is all about—not just the turns I take, but the feeling I carry with me long after the snow melts. – Conor S

Chunky Sneakers

Fila, Seoul, South Korea, 2018, Leather, rubber, and EVA (plastic), height: 4.5”

College used to be a time of isolation for me, so when I went home and spent time with my mom, I reveled in it. It became a tradition to go shopping and it all started with my chunky sneakers. I had never been to the store Burlington, so when my mom took me to one, I was excited. However, when we got there the store was mostly dark and empty because it was going out of business. I saw these shoes on a rack. They called to me with their pretty neon orange and turquoise colorway and thick monstrous soles. My mom thought they were cool and wanted me to try them on to see if they fit. To my delight they did, and I wore them out of the store. These shoes were the start of me trying to explore myself through fashion. My relationship with my mom has grown significantly since then and I am more connected with my sister as she is the real fashionista of the family. These shoes also allowed me to be more comfortable in connecting with people at school, as I am more confident about how I express myself. – Alena S.

Christmas Tree

Earth/Bought at McCauleys, circa 2024, wood and pine needles, height: 7’

This is my last real Christmas tree. My parents have decided to use a fake one next year, and it is sitting in our shed as I write this. “Why would you throw away a family tradition?” I asked. The answer: the cost of trees is increasing. However, my mom told me to look at the tree and remember that the decorations would be the same. I had never paid attention to what was on the tree. What could be more special than a real traditional tree? Then I learned about the ornaments and their significance in my family. Many of them were made by my mom’s grandmother. There were even some I made as a kid that I had forgotten. Then what mattered hit me: it was not the tree itself that was the tradition, but the generations of ornaments passed down that reflect our place in time. A real or a fake tree without anything on it is just a tree, but with your history displayed, it becomes something special. My mom always asks if I will use our ornaments when I have my own family. Now I understand why. Of course, I will. – Nathaniel Q.

Calico Cat Plush

Aurora®, Pico Rivera, California, United States, circa 2002, Fur fabric, plastic pellets, and resin eyes, length: 8”

Sometimes grief appears in the form of a calico cat plush. 22 years ago, my uncle gave me this object. When I turned 6 years old, he tragically passed away from an accident. At that age, I did not understand what had happened, but I still felt a sense of loss. From that point onwards, this plush was at my side. Its soft fur and weighted body provided a tactile sense of comfort. I took it everywhere, until I turned 11 and my plush was replaced by a real cat. She followed me from room to room, we were as inseparable as my plush and I. She passed away suddenly during the pandemic, just as I entered college. Blindsided, far from home, and stricken again with grief, I took comfort in

my plush. I began to collect calico cat objects: pillowcases, plates, statues, more plushies, and a keychain for my backpack. Grief is not always easy to carry, but sometimes it may get lighter. – Emma K.

Midcentury Table Lamp

Circa 1950’s, Brass base and slag glass shade, height: 23”

What is a light if not something to guide you on your journey? The lamp on my bedside table not only guides me as I dress in the morning; it is a part of my greater journey. It is the first item in my soon-to-be collection of heirlooms that will outlive me. Its light will guide me through the rest of my days.

I envision a future where my collection has been completed, my lamp resting on a carefully crafted table decorated with swooping curves analogous to my lamp’s brass base. The warmth of the lamp’s lit shade will be echoed by the warmth of the fire at my hearth. When the day comes that my fire is extinguished and my light shines no more, I will grant this lamp and my collection to a special person that may continue the service of my trusty objects.

I may not know this lamp’s story, but in its light, it carries the legacy of a previous owner, just as it will for me, silent but bright. – Dominic D.

Pillow

Skytex Inc., Puebla, Mexico, 2014, 100% Polyurethane foam, length: 21”

Behold the legendary Doctor’s Orders Pillow, a marvel of modern medicine and bedtime engineering. This soft yet strangely firm artifact was prescribed to me after years of questionable posture, heroic slouching, and an epic battle with gravity itself. It is not just a pillow; it is a relentless, orthopedic enforcer.

At first, I hated it. It was stiff, unyielding, and completely unwilling to indulge my habit of curling into a human pretzel. My old pillows never judged me for sleeping in a way that defied both logic and anatomy. This one, however, had opinions. It demanded proper posture, scolded me for side-sleeping incorrectly, and seemed deeply disappointed every time I tried to smush it into a more “comfortable” (read: TERR-i-ble) shape. The pillow’s unforgiving firmness and rigid contours physically guided my head and neck into alignment, making its demands clear through form and structure.

Infused with the mystical power of actually supporting your neck, this pillow has seen many sleepless nights turn into slightly-less-sleepless nights. Though it cannot cure bad life choices (couch naps and text-neck), it does offer a whisper of relief, provided I do not immediately revert to old habits. – Zac C.

Want to learn more about Zac’s pillow? Stay tuned for Season 5 of The Museum of Where We Are Podcast coming in spring/summer 2025!

Taffy Pink Crocs

Crocs, China, circa 2024, Pink Croslite, Women’s size 11

My Taffy Pink Crocs have left a clog print on my heart. I wear my Crocs daily while ignoring the many opinions about the style of the shoe. A Christmas gift from this past year, they symbolize a fresh start as I step into 2025.

My Pink Crocs are more than shoes; they are a lifeline. My old bright red pair carry the memories of high school struggles and freshman-year challenges. With my new Crocs, I am accompanied by a staple item and a feeling of home while I travel, at college swim meets, and on new adventures. My shoes provide a sense of cleanliness and make me feel more relaxed and comfortable when I return to the hotel after a long day at the pool. They allow me to unwind and slip into something more comfortable, light, and breathable than my tight sneakers. After I put them on, stress and anxieties float away.

During my first steps in the morning and my last steps at night, I am disconnected from the non-stop student-athlete lifestyle when I wear my Crocs. They challenge the idea that comfort and style cannot coexist. – Mary K.

Want to learn more about Mary’s Crocs? Stay tuned for Season 5 of The Museum of Where We Are Podcast coming in spring/summer 2025!

McDonald’s Garfield Mug

Anchor Hocking, Lancaster, Ohio, United States, circa 1980, Glass, height: 3.5”

Does the importance you give to an object influence the impact it can have on you? I used to think so.

I am not a fan of Garfield or McDonald’s, so when my brother purchased a set of vintage McDonald’s Garfield mugs, I was not impressed. Despite the glasses being durable, balanced, and showcasing charming comics with colorful, measured design, they were just another set of things making no impact on me. But after two years of drinking from them, I would learn just how impactful they could be.

In 2021, I decided to check the resale value of these glasses and discovered that the paint with which Garfield was rendered contained over 100,000 parts per million of lead, more than 1,000 times the legal limit.

The importance I gave to these objects did not matter; my family and I were still exposed to hazardous materials. I was impacted by these objects even though I did not care. – Mosadi P.

Want to learn more about Mosadi’s mug? Stay tuned for Season 5 of The Museum of Where We Are Podcast coming in spring/summer 2025!

Chessboard

Chess Armory, circa 2018, Wood, width: 14”

How can a simple piece of wood contain memories of long-dead individuals?

At first glance, this chessboard seems like no more than an unassuming piece of tabletop fun. Its wooden exterior mimics the simple design of every chessboard. After receiving this object several Christmases ago, I enjoyed it, but never imagined that it could provide anything more than fun, intellectual competition. My outlook shifted when I familiarized myself with the game’s history.

Chess originated in seventh-century India. Records of games are found scattered across history. Specific games of chess began being recorded in the 1400s with every single move transcribed. Discovering this, I chose a game.

I arranged my chessboard into a starting position and read through a game between Valencian nobles in 1475, moving one piece at a time on my board. I felt uniquely connected to the past. There was no ambiguity or mystery to the game; I knew exactly what moves they played, and I could physically mimic them one at a time for myself.

Thus, my chessboard was not just a piece of wood, but a vessel to peer into the games of players of old. – Dom S.

Want to learn more about Dom’s chessboard? Stay tuned for Season 5 of The Museum of Where We Are Podcast coming in spring/summer 2025!

Narwhal Plushie

Aurora World Inc., Pico Rivera, California, United States, 2018, Polyester fiber, length: 16”

With lightly frayed edges and a stubborn sparkle, this narwhal resists how we assign value to the things around us. Plush toys are often seen as symbols of comfort and care, traits society labels as feminine and emotional. These qualities are frequently overshadowed by traits like ambition and assertiveness, which are celebrated as markers of success and strength. Glitter, too, is dismissed as frivolous, a fleeting decoration of little importance. But this narwhal challenges those assumptions. The shimmer caught my eye as I passed it on the aquarium gift shop shelf, turning a simple toy into something that demanded attention. Its softness is not weakness. It is resilience, shaped by years of use and affection. No matter how many times I squash the plushie in my sleep, a few gentle nudges will bring it back to life. The synthetic fur and shimmering plastic are often dismissed as cheap, but they carry strength and beauty. This narwhal reminds me that value is not in the material itself but in the stories and meanings we attach to it. – Chuanhui Y.

Black Stone Rosary

Santiago, Dominican Republic, circa 2000, Onyx stone beads and metal chain, length: 21”

I must have been nine years old when I clutched this Rosary in my hand every night as I sat alone in my room. With a big heart, tears filling my eyes, and my mind as anxious as can be, I prayed that I could do well on my math quiz. This was serious business to fifth-grade Camila. My prayers would vary from asking for good grades to asking for the protection of all the animals in the world and a long life for my family. I cannot tell you if all the animals in the world were saved those nights or if I aced my tests, but I can tell you this: I was at peace. I may not have known much about my religion or why I decided to pray the Rosary, but I had complete faith. I knew that I did not have to deal with my worries on my own. Holding this Rosary gave me hope; it felt like my spiritual phone to talk to God. Now, as it sits on my desk, this Rosary reminds me of that childlike faith. It has been with me even when I least believed, as a beacon of hope and trust. – Camila R.

Dorm Desk Chair

Foliot Furniture, Montreal, Quebec, Canada, circa 2007, Wood, fabric, and metal, height: 31.5”

This chair’s constant presence in my college life has happened against my will.

The standard chair that comes in a Drexel dorm room is ugly and uncomfortable. However, terrible two-position chairs like this one have followed me throughout my undergraduate career, from community college to the University of the Arts and now Drexel. The most notable thing about this chair is that it is difficult to sit in with any amount of stability; the moment that you shift your weight, the whole thing lurches, either seating you too far back or too far forward. It is a fickle, temperamental object that refuses to compromise.

At previous institutions, I fought the chair; I would choose to work in rooms with different seating options. I would even go as far as to study in my bunk bed to avoid using such a ghastly thing. But now, at the school that I am set to graduate from, I have chosen to make nice with it.

It is the least I can do.

The chair has been one of the only constants in my college life. – Maple S.

Plastic Balisong Model AF-1

Larqety, 2024, Plastic blade handle and aluminium metal screws, length: 9.86” (unfolded)

Undoing a habit is easier said than done, especially when that habit is one you have built up over twelve years. Balisong flipping is an activity using a balisong knife made of metal. Flipping consists of doing tricks like spinning and rotating the balisong around the user’s fingers and hand. More often than not, this leads to pinching, cuts, and bruises.

This was my childhood since I was 10. I received one as a gift, and over time—and through cuts and bruises—I built up a habit using metal balisongs. It has become an essential part of my consciousness, and I feel my arm is complete when I have one in my hand. However, as I have grown, I have needed my hands for more and more things. I have to take care of them.

I got this plastic balisong for that reason, but switching from two-and-a-half pounds of metal to less than four ounces of plastic has been a nightmare. For the past three months, this piece of plastic has done nothing but antagonize me, forcing me to break a habit I considered my nature. But I will win. – Jacob S.

Bunny-Do The Plush Rabbit

Dan Dee™ MTY International CO., LTD., Taipei, Taiwan, 2008, Polyester Fiber, height: 8”

“To be loved is to be changed.” This quote resonates with me and my plush rabbit. His frayed whiskers and crunchy fur are manifestations of my love for him. Although old, he remains the same plush, just like how I remain the same person after the years of change we have gone through together.

We first met one Easter morning when I was a young child. Ever since that day, he has stayed by my side through all of life’s mishaps. I found comfort in letting him act as a projection of myself, even personifying him as a young man: something I did not realize I was at the time. Further exploring his and my identity, I made him kiss other boy stuffed animals during playtime. Even though the world around me said I was a girl, I knew deep down that it did not feel right. I did not realize it at the time, but, like Bunny-Do, I have always been a gay man.

Although this plush is not alive, part of me wishes he was. His love feels so real in a world where I cannot truly be loved for myself. – Leo B.

Vintage Radio

Standard Radio Corp. located in Tokyo, Japan, circa 1970s, Metal, wood, plastic, LEDs, wiring (aluminum or copper), width: 17.5”

This 1970s radio, housed in a simple wooden box, is a window into another time. Its front panel boasts a frequency scale, a power switch, and two knobs––one to toggle between AM and FM, the other to tune the signal. The back features four knobs and two auxiliary inputs, evidencing the device's previously modern versatility.

While I am not sure how its recordings are being played, I am aware that it was modified before it became mine. Someone before me wanted to live through the past just like I do—chasing echoes and rewinding time with every note, hoping to catch whispers of moments long gone but never truly lost.

What I love about this radio is not merely its appearance, but the fact that it allows me to transport myself away from the present. By twirling the dial, I hear the past through recordings that play depending on where the red line lands. The voices and songs are from a forgotten time—that is why I am drawn to them. I do not need to deal with current events or care about what is being said. I can disconnect from contemporary worries and, in that distance, feel relief. – Akhila N.

Toilet

circa 2014, Ceramic, height: 29”

When I was a freshman, the main thing that I struggled to get used to the most was sharing a bathroom with at least ten people. Damp, echoing, and thin-walled are the best words to describe the stalls and showers at the end of the hallway in Myers Hall. It had quickly become apparent that my business was everybody’s business if I was not careful. Of course, the opposite applied as well. I became privy to the weekly phone calls, panic attacks, and TikTok doom scrolling of about ten strangers that year. As a result, a large part of my daily routine, previously spent in private, turned uncomfortable and nerve-wracking because I was never sure what I would walk into. I have always relied on the solitude a bathroom provides, using the toilet as a reason to escape awkward situations or as a crutch when needing a moment of silence. But when one of the safest spaces for vulnerability became cold and uninviting, the toilet was no longer reliable.  Now, three years and five roommates later, I finally have my own toilet, and I appreciate it in ways I did not think I could. – Beatrix B.

Want to learn more about Beatrix’s toilet? Stay tuned for Season 5 of The Museum of Where We Are Podcast coming in spring/summer 2025!

Stretched and Twisted Pepsi Glass Soda Bottle

Artist unknown, PepsiCo, Inc., Purchase, Harrison, New York, circa 1950-1960s, Soda-lime glass and liquid, height: 18”

“You cannot drink from that soda bottle.” My grandparents’ warnings sounded like that when I would gaze upon the twisted Pepsi bottle that rested on a top shelf in their home when I was younger. The bottle was different from any other that I had seen. It sported a sleek S curve, a slender figure, and blue tinted glass that read as cool and crisp. However, what raised my curiosity as a child was the mystery liquid in the bottle. Now that I have grown up and can finally reach the soda bottle, I looked at the liquid to see if I could decipher what was inside. The contents were not what I was expecting. The liquid is infected with grainy and flaky particles which sink and sit at the bottom of the glass. Things change if you shake and move the bottle around. Once in motion, the particles feel alive, swimming around as if they were bacteria moving through the human body. After my closer examination, I think that I will keep the bottle closed for now, and admire the Pepsi bottle from afar, the same way I did as a child. – Jeremiah S/R.

Wacom Stylus Pen

Wacom, Tokyo, Japan, Plastic, Rubber, Silicone, length: 6.2”

I recently realized that my old Wacom stylus carries my youthful spirit of big dreams and wild creativity.

It is said that something is more valuable broken and repaired than if it were never broken at all. This stylus is no different.

The pen was given to me when I was eleven years old. Being a curious child, I disassembled it. A spring popped out and was never seen again. However, the stylus refused to break. I was as stubborn as the stylus, so I taped it back together.

A few years later, I was given a replacement. The replacement was shinier and more complete. It had the spring inside, too. Yet, drawing with it felt different. The tip of the stylus no longer had that slight slant to which I had become so accustomed.

I switched between the styluses over time. I used the newer stylus when I felt adventurous. I used the older stylus when I felt relaxed. I spent more time with my old stylus than ever before.

It is a link to a past version of myself that I do not want to lose. – Daniella S.

Dumpling Plushie, a.k.a. “Dumpy”

Squishables, New York, New York, United States, 2023, Polyester Fiber, height: 8”

“Dumpy” is a physical reminder that I should not allow my newfound adulthood to overwrite my sense of childhood wonder. I do not know what came over me when I decided to buy it in that Los Angeles market. I was not even that into stuffed animals; in fact, I thought they were a little below me. The only reason I bought it was because each of my friends also had one. If they were good artists and they had one, I should also have one. My stomach was also involved in decision making, as the plushie I grabbed was that of a soup dumpling. Whenever I look at “Dumpy,” I think that I lose a little bit of the posturing that comes with “acting like an adult” and I can be a little closer to me. My little stuffed companion watches me from wherever it may be posted around my work area. While others may find the idea disconcerting or creepy, I find it reassuring. – Benjamin E.

Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse Paper Cup

Burger King, 5505 Blue Lagoon Drive Miami, Florida, United States, 2023, Paper, height: 5.9”

During every assignment, every job interview, and every late-night work session, I see Miles’s holographic eyes looking back at me. They stare at me with so much hope, a subtle but ever-present encouragement to keep going. Filled with pencils and crafting supplies to the brim, made of cheap cardboard-like paper, and mildly bent out of shape from its continuous use, this cup continues to support me and my studies. Through every assignment I thought I would not finish and every hurdle I thought I could not push through, I felt strengthened by this cup’s constantly vibrant, forever optimistic eyes. The contrasting colours of the cardboard highlight the white of his eyes which looks like the smallest ray of sunlight shining through a storm. Even though it was clearly meant to be discarded after a single use, the cup continues to hold on. After every deep cleaning of my room, after every angry shuffling of supplies, and after every late night where I have stayed awake longer than I should have to finish my assignments, the little cup remains. It is ever so strong and ever so persistent. So am I. – Amy G.

Hippobaby Stuffed Animal

Ty, Inc., Oak Brook, Illinois, United States, circa 2000, Cloth and plastic rattle, height: 12”

Have you talked with a stuffed animal? What did they say?

Hippobaby or, namely, Mr. Winkey is wise. My mother knew that when she bought him for my newborn sister. My sister cared for Mr. Winkey for years, loving him yet knowing that she was only holding onto him for someone. He was not hers and she knew it. Did he tell her?

Mr. Winkey may not talk how we do, but he does, nonetheless. He is there, present and accounted for, to be your guardian angel: protecting you and listening to you cry, whine, laugh, shout. He watches you blossom from seed to bloom, all while letting you chew on his ear.

I found Mr. Winkey devilishly enchanting. I would often heist him from my sister so that he could cradle me to sleep. One day, I asked her plainly if I could have him and, with Mr. Winkey’s words in mind, she let me keep him forever. 

That night, I slept terribly and cramped my neck with the pose I struck. I awoke, unable to move, to excruciating pain. All I could do was find Mr. Winkey with my arms and hug him until time healed my wounds. – Skye S.

Glass Cutting Board

AMS Design, Bedford, circa late 1990s, Glass, plastic, and rubber, width: 14.7”

How would you want your childhood to be remembered? Would you want it remembered via an everyday object you still use? My father lost all his childhood photos during the Sierra Leonean Civil War. In the absence of his photos, these questions pressed against my imagination. I sat and tried to create a younger version of my father from the framework of my mind, and—surprisingly enough—I thought of this glass cutting board. It always stood near the window on the countertop in our kitchen. I imagined him diligently cutting vegetables on it, with the dull knife scraping against the delicately textured glass. Below the glass there is a laminated picture of a kitten at a well seeking respite on a spring morning. It has always reminded me of his childlike nature, a quality that has stood strong against the test of life, like glass underneath the pressure of a knife. Whenever he feels worn out by the trials of life, like the kitten at the well, he finds ways to be replenished. Even though my father’s photos are lost, this object helps me to remember the essence of a man who keeps his youth close to his heart. – Samara G.

Want to learn more about the glass cutting board that belongs to Samara’s father? Stay tuned for Season 5 of The Museum of Where We Are Podcast coming in spring/summer 2025!

Laos Souvenir Keychain

Laos, circa 2010s, Gold plate and stainless steel, width: 1.5”

I have put too much sentimental value into this keychain. I now understand why.

She had returned from a summer trip to Laos and had promised to get me a souvenir. This coin-like metallic keychain captivated my eyes. The gold plating has since worn off, revealing the steel base and allowing the keychain to rust. With all the natural damage the token has taken, it has stood firm throughout the years I have carried it.

The gift she gave mattered to me more the less we talked. It still reminds me of that moment, of her then, and of the friendship we had.

I will never know why she gave me this keychain, but I will value the thought it took to give me it. I know that the person I once knew is gone, and through this keychain I can acknowledge it better. So, I will always carry it with me, as I have since, to retain the spirit that once changed me for the better. – Joshua G.