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Let’s pretend for a second that the other things surrounding Donald Trump don’t matter: not the xenophobia, his refusal to release tax returns nor the lack of factual knowledge and preparation. None of it.
It’s no secret: liberal arts colleges are, well, liberal. Those leaning to the political left have controlled academia for years.
Following the recent events involving University of Richmond’s alleged mishandling of Title IX cases, I have been amazed by the unity of the student body in response to this horrible situation. Everyday, my phone is filled with messages from students who are part of Spiders Against Sexual Assault, a student initiative to combat the injustices allegedly committed by the university administration. It is heartwarming to see the passion our student body has and the actions they are taking to seek justice and change. I am proud to work with so many of my peers and will continue to do so until we see change.
“Judge in rape case: ‘Keep your knees together’”.
Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, I walk across campus to my 8 a.m. class. And on Mondays and Wednesdays, most of my classmates do the same. On Fridays, however, our classroom is routinely only a little over half full.
Dear Students,
Some days I feel very lucky to be a Spider, given the difficult road I continue to navigate as a first-generation college student.
The recent “welcome letter” by the University of Chicago revisited the matter of trigger warnings and safe spaces on college campuses, a subject touched upon by WC sophomore Maddie Bright last year.
Let's imagine that you leave your residence hall one morning, the warm glow of the late summer sun on your cheeks. As you make your way to class, the first thing you see is a pack of fellow students doing the same. But, wait...what do they have in their hands? Clamps? Plugs? Are they seriously lugging around adult toys? Those can't possibly be class-related -- unless there's some brand-new Wellness Plus 2 course you haven't heard about. What do you do?
While reflecting on the devastating deaths of black men that have recently occurred in our nation, I have been considering what part I can play in fostering communication and progress as a young white person in today's world. As a white person who has spent time studying and working toward social justice, I want to share some thoughts with other white people.
It took me, a Westhampton College senior who suffered a serious knee injury this spring that has severely limited my mobility, almost four years to realize how inaccessible University of Richmond’s campus is to disabled people. After spring break, I came back to campus using crutches for about two weeks and I will be wearing a straight leg brace for six weeks to ensure that I don't bend my leg. If I’m lucky, I move at about 50 percent of my normal pace. This experience is giving me a sense of what it would be like to be permanently disabled, and I can tell you, it has not been a pleasant one on our campus.
Here’s your weird, outside-of-the-box puzzle for today: Try to discern the correlation between the systemic oppression of minority groups that for more than two centuries has hindered our United States from amounting to the ideals outlined in its founding document and the two-year stint wherein I tap danced at my hometown’s Academie De Ballet, which required me to wear sparkly pants and a barf-green leprechaunish tunic.
As an avid fisherman that frequents Westhampton Lake to get my fishing fix, I am asked the same question by fellow students almost daily: “Are there even fish in Westhampton Lake?” The short answer: Yes, and there is no better time to fish in Westhampton Lake than the months of April and May for the spring largemouth bass bite.
Since entering college, students have been defined by three numbers and a decimal point. If you were not worried about this number, you were advised to start worrying right away. Obsessing over final grade calculators online, weighing the effect of each assignment and anxiously reloading BannerWeb once grades have finally been posted have all made me resent hearing the letters G-P-A.
Going home for spring break felt oddly similar to traveling to an alien planet, mostly because there were dozens of massive, grotesque plastic weeds pockmarking yards and medians, making everything look more like something Dante made up than like the town I grew up in. Imagine the horror that struck me upon the realization that many of these ugly weeds were not there on accident, but had been planted by many of my own neighbors! The horror, the horror!
The Islamic State, or ISIS, is a growing concern for many international actors as attacks are rising around the world. In order to manage the crisis in Syria, President Obama announced the U.S. policy of counterterrorism efforts to thwart the organization’s success, primarily dependent on airstrikes.
Dear Readers,
Enough is enough.
On Saturday, I went to breakfast with my mom in celebration of her birthday. Upon greeting her, we traded kisses on our respective cheeks and exchanged a warm salutation. As is our custom, she then gave me this week’s copy of the New Yorker, and its felicitous cover, artfully illustrated by Kadir Nelson, jointly stoked feelings of refulgent optimism and deep reflection. The cover donned Harlem Renaissance giants like the legendary composer and pianist– and my favorite musician– Duke Ellington, as well as skilled authors James Baldwin and Zora Neale Hurston and Civil Rights leader Malcolm X. Seeing them displayed so elegantly, resolutely, and unapologetically infused into me an insuperable sense of pride about the history of black men and women in America.
Unfortunately, I cannot bring myself to write a love letter to transgender and non-binary identified students at UR, as I recently did for students of color. Don’t get me wrong – I would much rather write that op-ed than this one. The difference here is not that I don’t care about the success, well-being, visibility, and future of trans and non-binary students – because I certainly do. Rather, I cannot speak with the same kind of experience and wisdom about being trans/non-binary as I can about race and racism. I can’t effectively love the beauty, creativity, brilliance, kindness, and bravery of you – my fellow trans and non-binary folk – because I’m still wrestling with loving myself.
