Thoughts from the Georgetown community.
"My classmates would walk around with thousand-dollar winter coats, wear designer bags, and avoid Leo’s at their every convenience. Meanwhile, I added three jobs to my plate and was juggling more than I could handle. Going from classes in Walsh to shifts in Reynolds (a hike), I often found it near impossible to ever leave the Bubble or even to discover any clubs I was passionate about."
"Georgetown and its students say survivors are not alone. We write it on the walls of our buildings and host rallies and shout together, but what will you do when the perpetrator is your friend or partner? What will you do when rejecting them means a major change in your life? What will you do when empowering a survivor is inconvenient for you? What will you do when your student organization is enabling abusers? What action will you actually, truly take to make sure a survivor is not alone?"
In discussions about COVID-19, it is the military metaphors that are the most dangerous. War metaphors related to COVID-19 are overused and often inaccurate, and descriptions of the pandemic should instead turn to non-violent metaphors that emphasize the need for community and perseverance.
No matter the answer, my previous “cure” for my hair was one of many small things I took for granted, and one of the many small habits that I, like many others, didn’t realize I valued until they were gone.
So long as racism continues to exist in our society, we carry the moral imperative to correct it.
College campuses create an environment where LGBTQ+ students can live openly, build a community, and finally accept themselves. If Georgetown forces students to continue taking virtual classes this fall, Georgetown strips queer students of the experience they signed up for. This would stifle the thriving LGBTQ+ community, of all races and classes, that I have been able to learn, live, and grow with. LGBTQ+ students need the support a college campus provides.
Stay home. For most of us, it’s the one thing we can do to save lives from the reach of COVID-19—to do our part for society when so many others are risking their lives by going to work for us. For some, however, staying home is more dangerous than contracting the disease. Due to this pandemic, as well as the financial strain many families are facing, domestic violence cases have spiked nationally. This is how we can begin to help.
I’m tired of Black lives not mattering. I’m tired of seeing people who look like me die. I’m tired of having to educate our “allies” on how to show up for our community. I’m tired of knowing my children will have to modify every aspect of their behavior and mannerisms to ensure they aren’t misconstrued as threatening. They’ll have to grow up too fast and give up pieces of their childhood for their own safety. I’m tired of your complacency. I’m tired of wondering if I’m next.
"The stressful process of grocery shopping and coronavirus-induced anxiety, in general, may reduce our ability to think clearly, but Buddhism can provide insight into managing our thoughts and actions."
I’ve rarely studied meditation in a formal sense, but the basis of mindfulness critical to its practice have always been an important part of my personal philosophy. For someone who has often struggled to feel in control in uncontrollable environments, mindfulness is an essential tool.
For a democracy to work, its citizens must be guaranteed the ability to participate in free and fair elections. Maintaining this guarantee while still requiring people to physically appear at... Read more
That night, I became one of the one-in-three women who has experienced sexual assault or coercion—without even realizing it. Yet despite our prevalence and the gravity of our circumstances, policymakers—like Betsy DeVos' new Title IX policies—continue to neither recognize nor support survivors of sexual assault.
The outbreak of the novel coronavirus has caused businesses to close, students to finish the school year at home, and over 36 million people to either lose their source of... Read more
"In February, I accepted the Tombs’ annual challenge for seniors. On every one of the last 99 days of senior year, I planned to descend into the Tombs and hand the bartender my ID as proof of my attendance. I found the cheapest items on the menu and set aside enough money for all the checks. If you make it, they’ll put your name on a plaque, and how can you put a dollar value on that?"
Last week, I finished my second year at Georgetown. As much as I wish I could provide some eloquent update about how, despite the obstacles created by COVID-19, I made the most of this semester and learned a lot, that simply isn’t the case. The reality is I’m tired. I’m really tired. I’m tired because I’ve spent every day for the past two months thinking about the fact that Georgetown doesn’t seem to consider me, a first-generation student, valuable.
"With the rise in anti-Asian sentiment, I can’t help but feel uneasy in the rare times I do leave my house since the stay-at-home orders began. I wonder if the man who pushes his cart past mine in the supermarket sees me and feels hate. I worry if today might be the day some crazed stranger passes me or my family and reacts violently. "
"The disparity between the facile attempts at female empowerment on Instagram and the ways women’s rights are under threat demonstrates how misdirected good intentions can actually be more harmful than empowering."