Mandala Needs You
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Charlotte Lone ’27
Most NMH students have heard the name Mandala at least once— maybe in an email, a Monday Morning Meeting announcement, or in passing from someone in the RAC. But what is Mandala? Many people still don’t actually know.
Mandala, at its core, is NMH’s student-run art and literary magazine: a space where poems, photography, drawings, short stories, paintings, digital creations, experimental pieces, and personal projects all coexist in a single publication. In its strongest years, it was a bustling cocurricular where students met weekly, debated submissions, argued passionately for their favorite pieces, and put together a print magazine that circulated on campus. Something people looked forward to reading in their dorm lounges or maybe taking home as a snapshot of the year’s creativity.
Today’s editors, Alua Cherdabayeva ’26 and Sanjar Aliev ’26, speak about the magazine with equal parts pride and determination. They inherited something with real history and heart. As Alua described it, Mandala is a “bridge”—a connection between the artwork happening in the RAC and the broader NMH community. For many new members, it’s something emotional. “Mandala is a really accurate snapshot of what art and free thinking at NMH look like,” said Porter Cram ’29. He added that the magazine is “the beating heart of student creativity today.”
While the RAC displays mainly class-produced work, Mandala is the place where personal projects—the sketches in people’s notebooks, the photos taken at sunset, the poems written spontaneously—can finally be seen. “The people who are just doing things as a side hobby, or personal projects, can submit that, and then other people can see it,” Naomi Paik ’28, another new member of Mandala, said.
Students join Mandala for different reasons: the low-stress commitment, a chance to stay connected to art, or simply wanting to be part of something creative. Sanjar laughed when asked what the group does all year: “Well… nothing. That was like the whole point.” Mandala is intentionally simple. Meetings are low-pressure. The work builds toward one published issue at the end of the year. “It’s very low commitment,” Alua confirmed.
When interviewed, students across campus shared what they hope Mandala can become—or return to. George Haft ’29 admitted, “I would love to see it… it’s just never convenient.” He pointed out that MMM announcements get lost Mandala Needs You By: Charlotte Lone ’27 “A Cattle Show” by Ben Rosenthal in the mix: “All the things sort of blur together.” Posters in places like Gilder, he suggested, would help.
Others want variety. “I’d like to see ceramics and different paintings,” one freshman said—everything from beginner work to experienced pieces, shown side by side, “so you could see the contrast.” What matters most, they said, is recognizing “that lots of different people make art here, and it’s not about the level of experience.”
Some imagine Mandala capturing the campus visually. “I would love to see a painting of the sunset over Blake or something,” George said—before Porter nudged him: “If you have such a vivid image of it, why don’t you create it yourself and submit it?” George paused. “Maybe I will.”
Others want Mandala to celebrate effort. “It’d be great if it acknowledged work you’ve really put yourself into,” Chance Zhu ’28 said.
Anna Lazorina ’26 summed it up simply: “Whatever people want to do deserves to be seen.”
A common theme came up in nearly every conversation: students want Mandala to exist, but many assume it has already disappeared. Some haven’t seen an issue. Some have never picked one up. “I’ve seen a physical copy before,” Ellie Kim ’27 said, “but I’ve never read it.” The last time Mandala published a physical copy was two years ago, in May of 2024. The last online copy was published in May of 2025.
Some students hesitate because they want certainty that their work will make it somewhere. Others worry it’s not “good enough” or not “finished enough.” But as Siddiqi Komou ’27, another new member of Mandala, said, Mandala accepts everything—writing, visual art, photography, digital work— “so don’t hesitate.”
And importantly, all submissions are anonymous. “People get nervous,” Alua said, “even though everything is anonymous. Our faculty advisor, [Coke Whitworth], makes sure there’s no name—we can’t even discuss who we think made something.” You can remain anonymous in the final issue, or you can choose to have your name printed with your piece.
In the end, students just want to see the art that’s already being made here. “Full of student and faculty artwork, full of vibrancy,” Pooja Manian ’28 said when describing her ideal publication.
The goal is a beautiful, diverse, printed issue in people’s hands by the end of spring. But to make that happen, Mandala needs submissions—yours.
One photo. One poem. One sketch. One piece you made for fun. It all matters.
“We don’t want to leave Mandala behind in shambles,” Alua said. “We want to continue this legacy of people’s work being represented.”
Mandala is ready for its next chapter. And it starts with you.
Submit your art. Or show up to one of their next meetings, which are held every Tuesday at 6:30 p.m. in the basement of the RAC!
