On a brisk Saturday afternoon last November, the members of Georgetown’s football team walked off Multi-Sport Field defeated. They were defeated by account of the scoreboard, of course, having just suffered a 41-14 drubbing at the hands of Fordham, but their defeat also went deeper, as the Hoyas left the field for the eleventh and final time without having won a single contest.
News
Davis Center café construction stalled
Although The Corp has said that it is not planning to start any construction on a café located in the Davis Performing Arts Center lobby for at least six months, faculty members working in the Davis Center and members of The Corp have denied that plans to build a café have been cancelled.
Sports
Explosive attack keeps lady Hoyas undefeated
Most students walking to classes this week would say that even though it’s the start of the fall semester, it doesn’t feel as though fall has really begun. The summer heat is still blazing, and no one knows that better than the Georgetown women’s soccer team.
Editorial
Blaming the victim is not good police work
Early last Sunday morning a woman was raped in her home in Burleith. The crime itself is horrifying. Unfortunately, the misleading responses issued by both Georgetown and the Metropolitan Police Department are seriously dismaying and raise questions about how both organizations treat sexual assault.
Leisure
I now pronounce you Joe and Jane
In Oct. 2005, Elizabeth Grimm (GRD ’10) and Jacques Arsenault (COL ’01, GRD ’07) were married in Dahlgren Chapel. It was a beautiful, intimate ceremony with friends and family, followed by a reception in Copely Formal Lounge. As the night wore on, a group of uninvited guests joined the party.
Voices
Polarization at Georgetown kindles political fire
The second week of my freshman year at Georgetown, I talked my roommate into attending a H*yas for Choice meeting with me. Not for political reasons, but, clever freshman that I was, so he and I could “meet girls who will remember to take their birth control.”
Fiction
I, Clodia
Once upon a time, we were young and ardent and that one organ in my cavernous chest pumped in time with yours. Your parents had named you Markus and when your lips parted to whisper in the close dark nights you always called me Clodia. At night you were sweet and slow and second-guessed every move you made.