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

Losing it, whatever it is

The first movie that a friend of mine recalls watching as a child was a gay porn flick. Telling me this story, he remarked that while he had most likely been introduced to Sesame Street before John Holmes, puppets didn’t make quite the same impression. My friend described it as akin to watching Freud’s primal scene with a twist: He wakes up one night and goes over to his door, which is partly open.

By the January 23, 2003

Voices

You stir me up like mayonnaise

Despite all of its advantages, study abroad has the downside of imparting some annoying habits on its participants. Between ridiculous complaints that “I can’t remember what that word is in English” and attempts at adopting the baffling skirt-over-jeans look that is popular in some Latin American countries, it is clear that there are some habits that are better left abroad.

By the January 16, 2003

Voices

I love sweatshops

I love capitalism. And sweatshops—nothing I can get behind more than the exploitation of those less fortunate so long as it saves me some money the next time I visit the Gap or Abercrombie or any of the other trendy, upscale clothing establishments that make me look like an individual (just like everyone else who shops there).

By the January 16, 2003

Voices

“Hey Georgetown, have another drink”

It was so nice to be back home, drinking Smirnoff in my friend’s bedroom while her parents slept downstairs. We bought the liquor with a fake ID, my little brother was lucky enough to be designated driver for the evening and we were playing lame drinking games.

By the January 16, 2003

Voices

Lost in the margin

Last Saturday, Illinois Governor George Ryan emptied the state’s death row, declaring the system “arbitrary and capricious—and therefore immoral.” Governor Ryan commuted 167 death sentences to life in prison. This bold move by the governor came at the conclusion of three years of study of the death penalty system in Illinois that was spurred on by the discovery of 13 innocent convicts in the state’s death row.

By the January 16, 2003

Voices

thenightisortahadwitgod

Mommy told me to go into my cold room where the windows never close and simply concentrate on the inside of my eyelids with my hands slapped together. She told me to close my eyes as hard as I could so tears can gather in a tight place in my eyes. She told me to wait until the tears dripped at gaining speeds on my clasped hands just from my deep concentration.

By the January 9, 2003

Voices

Adventures in Legoland

In the classic screwball farce Airplane, Ted Striker has a drinking problem. Specifically, he has a problem getting the drink to his mouth. Similarly, I have a gambling problem. Don’t worry, mom and dad. I’m not going broke. The bets rarely rise higher than a $4 Vittles sandwich, maybe once in a while I bet lunch at the Tombs.

By the January 9, 2003

Voices

What do I know?

French has two verbs for “to know,” each with a different connotation. One verb means “to know” in the sense of knowing a fact. The other means the sense of “being familiar with.” In English, we have one verb and are left to find ways to distinguish between its shades of meaning.

By the January 9, 2003

Voices

First Amendment: freedom of business?

“Away in a sweatshop where no one can see, the immigrant seamstresses work constantly. Conditions are awful, the pay is absurd—the boss he will fire them if they say a word.” Our voices harmonized and we moved onto our second song: “God bless you wealthy men, good news I have to tell: The market’s up, you’re making more each time you buy and sell.

By the January 9, 2003

Voices

You know how I do … Holla!

Sup sup MTV! Welcome to my crib! This is where it’s at, down here in the dirty dirty, you know. I’m doing it! Wearing my robe, doing my thing! Now let me show you around. Come on in! OK, here’s the front hallway, you know. Got the Oriental rug goin’ on, got it down in Chinatown for like thirty dollars, you know, pee stains and shit, I’m keepin’ it real.

By the December 5, 2002

Voices

Letter to the Editor

The Nov. 14 issue of The Georgetown Voice published an article regarding the South Asian Society’s annual cultural show Rangila, “Rangila Expands its Focus.” Though the review’s overall positive assessment of the show is greatly appreciated, the article seems to highlight Rangila’s entertainment value while at the same time downplaying the show’s purpose as a forum of cultural exchange.

By the December 5, 2002

Voices

How to make your mom cry

There are times when I want to fall on my knees and give thanks that I’m not entrusted with teaching English to non-native speakers. The number of nuances in our language make me shudder at the prospect of this task. I would rather explain exceptions to grammatical rules 365 days a year, however, than be faced with the challenge of defining some of our more elusive words.

By the December 5, 2002

Voices

Christ in tights

For the past six or so years, my sister’s ballet company has hijacked our Thanksgiving travel plans. The company puts on an annual performance of The Nutcracker that weekend, and my family usually attends all of the five or so showings. This is usually not too unpleasant, as I enjoy both Tchaikovsky and costumes with lots of ruffles.

By the December 5, 2002

Voices

I dreamed a little dream gone wrong

I know a lot of people that have Attention Deficit Disorder, and they are some of the most interesting and creative people I have ever met. I, however, seem to have the opposite problem. I am able to focus on incredibly boring material for long periods of time.

By the November 21, 2002

Voices

Letter to the Editor

In response to your article “Out and a Scout” (Nov. 14), I, an Eagle Scout, would like to address a few issues that were omitted. The issue of homosexual scoutmasters runs much deeper than the moral objection on the surface. For one, a scout’s parents have a legitimate objection to allowing a homosexual to have unlimited access to their boy four to six times a month, especially on overnight camp-outs.

By the November 21, 2002

Voices

Over the river and through the woods

As Thanksgiving break nears, I am counting down the days until I can sit on the couch and have members of my family bring me things. However, earlier this semester my mom told me that the family would be spending the holiday at my grandfather’s house in Florida, which only means one thing: road trip.

By the November 21, 2002

Voices

Correction

The Georgetown Voice takes mistakes seriously. We will correct all factual mistakes in our stories and publish appropriate clarifications as soon as possible. In “Rangila expands its focus,” on Nov. 14, the Voice incorrectly referred to Vidhya Iyer (CAS ‘03) as Bidhya Iyer.

By the November 21, 2002

Voices

Ode to life

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. To think I don’t have her. To feel that I’ve lost her. To hear the immense night, more immense without her. And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass. What does it matter that my love couldn’t keep her. The night is full of stars and she is not with me.

By the November 14, 2002

Voices

Darn-all the bathrooms

I am a simple man. Although I have the relative good fortune of living in the wealthiest state in the world and occupy a position of seemingly infinite upward mobility, my needs and desires are few. I have no use for the highly coveted bling- bling of Lexuses, flashy jewelry, high-powered video game machines or even fine dining at the District’s various five-star restaurants, though my financial station and societal privilege may one day entitle me to these things.

By the November 14, 2002

Voices

Sunday Night Syndrome exposed

Mornings are my favorite time of day because the endless possibilities of life are upon me. I relish my first cup of coffee and sing out with the morning birds about the hopefulness that each new day brings. As the morning drifts into the afternoon and the sun moves across the sky, a sense of foreboding comes over me as I realize that the night is fast approaching.

By the November 14, 2002