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

Bow wow… letters from the dog park

Yesterday the biggest dog in the neighborhood, a six-year-old Great Dane named Salisbury, tried to mount my friend’s Jack Russell pup.

By the November 18, 2004

Voices

What is a Liberal?

What exactly is a “liberal”?

By the November 18, 2004

Voices

Does anyone else feel a draft in here?

I’m not worried about being drafted. I’m confident that if there is a draft and my number is called, I will be laughed out of the boardroom once they see the results of my physical examination.

By the November 11, 2004

Voices

The six stages of Bush-based blues

Nauseous, short of breath and a little dizzy, I jumped out of bed and e-mailed a Canadian I’d met while traveling in Europe this past summer.

By the November 11, 2004

Voices

Tales from a Kerry supporter in France

I have had the unique pleasure of being a French major during George W. Bush’s reign.

By the November 11, 2004

Voices

Letters from Iraq

A few weeks ago I received two postcards from Iraq.

By the November 4, 2004

Voices

Cab-fear

Like most mothers, mine hugs me extra-tight before I leave for school in the fall.

By the November 4, 2004

Voices

Another day, another penis

One of the biggest differences between Havana and Washington D.C. is the number of penises that can be seen in public on an average day.

By the October 28, 2004

Voices

The lady’s man always wins

As the presidential race comes down to the wire, both candidates seem to have recognized just how important it is to win the female vote.

By the October 28, 2004

Voices

Voice Fiction: We hate eskimos

This week in Behind the Music: “What Went Wrong?” We take a look at one of rock’s most notorious duos of the latter half of this year.

By the October 28, 2004

Voices

It don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that swing

This summer, everyone from home told me how lucky I was to be going to Georgetown during an election year.

By the October 21, 2004

Voices

Fear and Barnacles

With my eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowed and lips pouting, I portrayed the typically difficult child all too well.

By the October 21, 2004

Voices

Me vs. the “What ifs”

How can we really be sure that Georgetown is where we are meant to be?

By the October 21, 2004

Voices

A Mother’s Agony, Her Daughter’s Pain

The mother of an unidentified Georgetown sexual assault victim relays her daughter’s story and explains how Kate Dieringer affected their lives.

By the October 21, 2004

Voices

How to save lives while lying down

Despite the curious spectacle of bulky men in spandex lifting heavy barbells while yelling in Greek or Chinese, I remained fixated on the steady stream of thick, red-black liquid oozing out of my right arm.

By the October 14, 2004

Voices

A prince finds some answers

I finally made rice and beans.

By the October 14, 2004

Voices

“i am”

Who am I? We’ve all heard the question. But is it something we are all constantly questioning and redefining? For me, proclaiming who I am became a process of understanding my space and place in a social context, and finally giving myself the agency to choose how I identify as a white, lesbian woman.

By the October 14, 2004

Voices

No whites allowed (but segregationists welcome)?

I wanted the sign as soon as I saw it. My wife and I were attending a black memorabilia fair at the Montgomery County Fairgrounds in Gaithersburg, Maryland last spring, and on my way to the Negro Baseball League gear, I encountered a display of framed “Colored Only” signs that once infamously adorned restrooms, water fountains and other public facilities.

By the October 7, 2004

Voices

Throwing it into drive

The car roared, wheels spinning, and slammed through the garage wall and straight into my dinning room, knocking the china cabinet over along the way. Apparently, I’d mistakenly hit the gas and now the car, without a scratch on it, sat in my dining room, making a slow, shrill beeping noise.

By the October 7, 2004

Voices

Sex, drugs and sex on drugs

Hsssssssh.

I drag deeply on the mouthpiece, slowly counting down in my head as the acrid fumes fill my lungs, relaxing me. I exhale and lean my head back against my overstuffed chair. I let my eyes lazily drift around the room before slipping the inhaler back into my pocket.

By the October 7, 2004