The Minority Report | Ashley Kim

One of my favorite shows of all time is Gossip Girl. I’m currently four seasons into my fourth re-watch of the series.

Gossip Girl is “your one and only source into the scandalous lives of Manhattan’s elite” (GG’s words, not mine). The show focuses on a group of overly privileged teenagers and follows them as they navigate through their young adult lives grappling with sexual tension, unprecedented and unnecessary drama, and unimaginable financial comfort. Their lives are closely monitored by an anonymous figure named Gossip Girl—a blogger who exposes their lives through her website.

I watched the entire series in high school twice, and then again in my first semester of undergrad. I’m watching it again now because the characters’ uncertainties through their various transitions through life echo my own. I feel comforted by their struggles despite the differences in our lives and the fact that, well, you know, the show is completely fictional.

Re-watching anything is always funny. The experience lends itself to an onslaught of nostalgia that sometimes makes you want to laugh and/or cry. It’s like listening to an old favorite song you haven’t heard in a few years and being reminded of a younger, more familiar version of yourself. This entire re-watching experience has been particularly interesting. I’ve been able to depend on Gossip Girl these last few weeks as a simultaneous distraction from life and reminder that everything will be okay.

Despite my familiarity with the show, I still can’t decide how I feel about one of the characters, Dan Humphrey. He’s largely misunderstood, but also extremely calculated—just like the entire cast of GG. But, what makes Humphrey unique is his continuous rebellion against the Upper East Side’s status quo. He dances with the privileges that his family and friends continuously benefit from, yet manages to never forget his roots in Brooklyn, offering a sort of relief from his uptight and annoyingly privileged cohorts as he tends to be more grounded than them. His dedication to his roots is endearing and ever-looming—one that I want to emulate as I take the plunge into adulthood after graduation.

It’s the beginning of the end, and although I’m hesitant and uncertain, at least I have Gossip Girl.