Voices

Voices is the Op-Ed and personal essay section of The Georgetown Voice. It features the real narratives of diverse students from nearly every corner on campus, seeking to tell some of the incredibly important and yet oft-unheard stories that affect life in and out of Georgetown.


Voices

You had me at hello, so why the silence now?

In many cultures, a casual hello is expected during sidewalk run-ins, a wave across the bar to a classmate is the norm, and even a smile to a current fling wouldn’t be out of the ordinary. But at Georgetown we suppress the wave, the hello, the smile. We walk with heads held high and cell phones held higher, not because we really have so many people to text or call, but because the cell phone is a barricade behind which we feign ignorance to passing glances and mumbled hellos.

Voices

Of mice and men: A boarding school bildungsroman

A few weeks ago, I woke up suddenly in the middle of the night and heard a soft, yet distinct, rustling sound coming from the corner. I looked to my right—no, it wasn’t my roommate, she had taken two Nyquil before falling asleep and hadn’t stirred since. As my mind continued to race, I quickly settled upon the only possible conclusion: it was the resident mouse paying me my nightly visit.

Voices

Checks and balances? Not at GU

When I first heard that the Georgetown University Student Association wanted to strip the advisory boards of their votes on the Funding Board, I thought it was a joke. I know GUSA senators sometimes demonstrate an inferiority complex about their perceived inefficacy, but this seemed to be an outrageous power grab, even for them. Moreover, I was convinced that it couldn’t be done.

Voices

The effortless transcendence of Gucci Mane

As someone who enjoys listening to and thinking about rap music, I’ve always had a hard time appreciating Gucci Mane. His tinny, dime-a-dozen synth beats make a mockery out of the sampling process that hip-hop was built on, and his unwillingness to rap about anything outside of his cars, jewelry, and guns, combined with his general aversion to making his lines actually rhyme, made most of his admittedly prolific output tough to stomach.

Voices

“I am the Lord of the Dance,” said he, nervously

I sat in the auditorium waiting for my turn. Each camper stood, said his or her name and something he or she enjoyed doing, and sat back down. It was simple, and by the end of the exercise we knew at least a little bit about every other kid. As the girl next to me sat down, I stood up and told every other nine-year-old at Camp Rae my name. Next I told them the only thing I enjoyed doing, the only thing I was actually good at, and frankly the only thing I didn’t quit within a week of starting: Irish dance.

Voices

Post-irony is real, and so what?

What we’re left with today is often called “post-irony,” although the term does a poor job of describing the state of things. We now have a smarter form of irony, irony used as a scalpel as opposed to a mallet. And it makes sense—even if irony can no longer serve its original purpose, it’s become such an integral part of American culture that it has become subtly embedded in everyday use.

Voices

Facebook: Trying to resist the universal influence

Facebook is a big part of my life—I can’t deny that. I, like many of my friends, check it obsessively, especially when procrastinating or waiting for someone to post pictures from last weekend. But since I haven’t yet found myself online chatting on a Friday night instead of going out to dinner with friends, it hasn’t seemed like a problem.

Voices

Intellect virtually absent in the online classroom

Usually after asking me for technological aid, my grandfather loves to tell me about the era before computers defined communication—proudly showing me his old but still functional typewriter. Many truly gifted writers, he says, never made the jump from typewriter to computer, preferring the ability to interact with text in ways computer screens don’t allow.

Voices

Yoga’s not about looking good in your lululemon

Georgetown students love their exercise. Anyone who goes to Yates around 5 p.m. knows that you have a better chance of getting into Otto Hentz’s Problem of God class than finding a vacant treadmill. The alternative is sharing the sidewalk with the swarms of outdoor runners—huffing and puffing along, looking miserable. But Georgetown has another category of over-zealous athletes, easily recognizable by the yoga mats sticking out of their backpacks.

Voices

My brother Kyle: A special lesson in human value

As the Winter Olympics come to a close, the time comes once again for us to return to our routine TV schedules, oblivious to the physically disabled who are competing in the Winter Paralympics. The games resemble the Winter Olympics, with patriotic fanfare and fierce competition, except these athletes are, of course, handicapped. With only five sports—alpine skiing, biathlon, cross country skiing, wheelchair curling, and sledge hockey—the Paralympics is a minor spectacle compared to the lavish and gaudy celebration that precedes it.

Voices

Real fans tailgate … why don’t we?

A couple of days into the new year, I found myself standing in the middle of a massive parking lot wearing three pairs of pants. I tried to shield myself from the harsh, freezing wind by taking shelter against the side of a Winnebago that probably had not seen a good day since the Carter Administration. Around the lot, men huddled over fires in metal trash cans, evoking scenes from every post-apocalyptic film ever made.

Voices

Constantly risking Winter Olympic absurdity

For the sake of the modern world, I really hope the ancient Greeks were wrong in their religious beliefs. Maybe the gods have been ignoring our lack of animal sacrifices for the past couple millennia, but all those myths about an angry god not getting enough worship and going on a killing spree make me a little nervous for the future of civilization.

Voices

What would Betty Freidan do?

When I was younger, my mom refused to let me watch two Disney movies: Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty. I asked her years later about what I thought was a strange prejudice against the delightful animated fairytales, and she explained that she didn’t want me growing up absorbing stories of women being saved by a white knight.

Voices

It’s easy to quit smoking—I’ve done it tons of times

It’s mid-February, which is the perfect time to evaluate all those attempted resolutions of only six weeks ago. The new year ushers in a sense of determination that has the potential to last, but usually disappears within a few weeks, a few days, or even a few hours—usually about when that New Year’s Eve whiskey buzz turns into a New Year’s Day headache. I, like so many before me, took it upon myself to throw away that nasty habit that comes at an unreasonable price in packs of twenty.

Voices

No on-campus cura personalis for sick Hoyas

You wake up one morning to find your throat as raspy as Bob Dylan’s. You trudge to class, yet you can’t help but cough at the least opportune moments and, despite your best attempts, you are that loathsome person whose nose just won’t stop running. But it’s not a cold. It can’t be. Georgetown students can’t afford to get sick. We have classes, commitments, jobs, and social lives. Maybe it’s nerdy, but in general, the only thing that we Hoyas hate more than the flu itself is missing a day of school.

Voices

Some extremely inconvenient truths

It snowed a hell of a lot this week. Amid the record-breaking snowfalls, school closings, and panicking weathermen came the unfortunate but predictable conservative reaction that this kind of anomalous blizzard somehow debunks the theory of “global warming.” The argument—that rare instances of severe cold prove that temperatures are not in fact trending upwards over the long term—is seemingly raised after every dramatic winter storm.

Voices

Party and bullshit: The hassles of entertaining

It started out as a nice evening with a few friends at a Nevils apartment, as it always does. Then someone’s friend’s little sister brought her Harbin cluster-mates, someone’s cousin and all his friends and acquaintances showed up, and a few dozen texts and tweets later, the apartment was flooded with thirsty, rowdy strangers.

Voices

Hoya pride swallowed amid a crowd of apathy

As a fan, it’s hard to repeat the same chant over and over again. It’s time we switch it up a little. “WE ARE GEORGETOWN” and “HOYA SAXA” are good when thrown into the mix, but we need to diversify our portfolio further. How about getting into the other team’s head. Call out a specific player—“SMITH IS RATTLED” will work, for example, when Smith messes up twice in a row. Or try the simple “CRY ABOUT IT” when a player thinks he’s doesn’t deserve a foul. Get creative—you have four whole syllables to work with.

Voices

Rebuttal: A look at the pro-life perspective

Andrew Zipperer’s recent article, “Protesters’ pro-life arguments prove ill-conceived,” (Georgetown Voice, February 4, 2010) showed a vast and astounding ignorance about the pro-life movement it attempted to analyze. While it’s honorable that Zipperer made some effort to understand the protesters he met at the January 22 March for Life, he failed to deliver a balanced or holistic view of the pro-life movement.

Voices

The ethics of Super Bowl advertising

Was there ever really a time when athletes could be considered paragons of morality? Years before Tiger Woods slept with every cocktail waitress in the greater Orlando area, the American public gave up trying to look up to sports stars as role models. And between Janet Jackson’s nipple, Prince’s giant penis-guitar, and any beer commercial ever, the Super Bowlbowl should have even less moral credibility.