A few years ago, I figured that if I never wanted to feel anxious again, I could simply force myself to do things that make me nervous over and over again - until my hands no longer shook, my voice no longer trembled and my heart no longer sank.

With college, I hoped to fix every disappointment I had in myself. No need to worry, reader: I won't provide you with a long list of my weaknesses. In fact, you don't even need the whole list to read between the lines in this article because, over the years, I have concluded that every single insecurity I have about myself, in some shape and form, connects to one major issue: my public speaking anxiety.

I have been in a constant effort to fit into a mold I handcrafted: a figure that did not let doubts or insecurities take control of her speech. I pinched, slapped, broke every limb that refused to obey and conform. If I wanted to get over my speaking anxieties, I had to do it over and over and over again - and break several bones while doing so.

In high school, I partially overcame this issue by using the strategy I delicately (!) described a few paragraphs ago. During my first month as a high schooler, I somehow convinced myself to run against 20 people in a student council election, and gave a speech in front of my entire class.

The speech started with an awful monologue about making our school a better place, and ended with me leaving the microphone to shout my slogan out loud, which consisted of a reference to the well-known, decades-old Turkish drama series, Valley of the Wolves. Not to flex or anything, but I even had a custom sweatshirt made, with Memati in the front and my face at the back.

I'm pretty sure this was the moment the mold started forming -specifically, when I found the courage to chant to my entire class and make everyone cheerfully applaud. This was who I aspired to be, and who I would force myself to become over the next few years.

My biggest obstacle in reaching my ideal self was, ironically, myself. I stuttered when I wasn't confident in what I was saying. I carried a constant fear of saying the wrong thing. Making a bad joke. Causing awkward silence, blank stares, confused exchanges. Looking stupid. Insensitive. Annoying. Foolish. Bossy. To sum all the negativity in a single word, being ashamed of myself and who I appeared to be in front of a crowd.

I have been trying for seven years now, putting myself in positions I'm uncomfortable in. Teaching recitation sections, leading meetings, presenting projects, defending proposals to my higher-ups. Anything that puts me on the spot and forces me to practice until I fully trust myself. I can easily see myself continue doing this, until the thought of failing becomes unthinkable.

But recently, I started thinking about what was so horrible about failing in front of a crowd, and what exactly I am scared of. What would happen if I forgot how eigenvectors relate to their eigenvalues in front of my linear algebra students? Or if the kinetic product mechanism I presented during my PILOT session was wrong? If I included a run-on sentence in this piece, would the editor editing the article question my capabilities? If I failed to remember every single detail about my research in front of my principal investigator (PI), would he fire me for disappointing him?

I actually didn't need to leave any of these at the thinking stage, because all of them happened in real life at least once over the past few months. I was humbled to realize that, although the mistakes I made while teaching a section were embarrassing, none of my students seemed to remember them at the end of the semester. I received some suggestions here and there in my writing, but they all came with thoughtful reflections on my story. My PI decided to ignore my incompetence in memorizing the properties of hexagonal crystal systems, and instead decided to compliment me on the progress I have made with organic synthesis.

And with all of these, I realized that nobody expected me to be perfect, and life went on if I wasn't the most capable at something. So, would it be fair of me to expect no embarrassing mistakes from myself? Further, can I ever become close to perfect if I don't fail, or if I don't let myself grow with my mistakes? What was ever the point of painfully carving myself to fit into the mold?

Buse Koldas is a junior from Istanbul, Turkey majoring in Chemical and Biomolecular Engineering. She is an Editor-in-Chief for The News-Letter. Her column discusses how her past experiences have affected her, with the hope of making others feel seen and understood.

The meeting opened with a presentation from Nelson Greenlee, transportation manager for the Homewood campus. His presentation focused on the transportation services currently offered for Hopkins affiliates, including the daytime service shuttle, the Homewood-Peabody-JHMI route, the night ride with the Lyft service and the East Baltimore Blue Jay Shuttle.

Parking was also discussed, as undergraduate students do not get access to campus parking permits. Greenlee, however, focused on transportation services as opposed to parking services. Recent and upcoming projects include the transition to different contractors for the Blue Jay Shuttle, a new camera system on the vans with a safety scoring system, an additional bus stop at the Bloomberg Student Center, the introduction of electric buses and flat budgets. A question and answer session followed, including questions previously drafted for Greenlee and ones asked during the meeting.

Committee chairs then presented updates to each committee. Notably, Civic Engagement announced possibly sponsoring a Center for Social Concern event. The Finance Committee has finished allocating the fall budget and is now transitioning to event grants. While Health, Safety, and Sustainability has made progress on its current initiatives, the Internal Affairs committee has aimed to remove unnecessary laws from the bylaws. Student Services is considering the creation of a world map on campus to showcase student diversity.

Chair of Programming Tyler Turner then announced a bill regarding funding for the National Day of Kindness. Highlights include handheld cards of encouragement for students and a new standing banner for SGA. The bill officially passed.

I ask myself this question nearly every day. Ironically, back in December, I had nearly convinced myself that I would get in. My favorite procrastination strategy was to pull up the graph for Hopkins on Scoir, see my star land in the green-ish area, and think, "Maybe I have some hope." Then I would mull over my essays and Common App activities in my head (I was too scared to actually read them), and perhaps gain a bit of hope.

The day I actually got in, a mixture of relief and ecstasy filled me as I thought that my hard work was finally validated. In the days before I stepped onto campus, I scrolled through numerous Instagram and LinkedIn profiles of future classmates and upperclassmen, read the endless Discord conversations in the Class of 2029 server and contemplated my life choices. My precarious confidence started to unravel as I learned about their work and accomplishments. How could I be going to the same school as them?

The day before I left for Baltimore, though, my mom told me, "Don't forget all that you've accomplished and what you're capable of." Storing these words in my heart, I marched on into my new life.

The first few days of my time at Hopkins felt like a dream. I met many new passionate people from all over the world. But, my most vivid memory was from our first Baltimore Community Bound gathering. We were introducing ourselves in small groups, which of course included mentioning our majors. One freshman said "BME," and when we started to say our obligatory "OMG"s, she frantically protested, "BUT… I'm not smart." I replayed that scene in my head a few more times. How could she say that about herself? In a way, I was comforted. I'm not the only one who has these thoughts. Through exploring Baltimore, we became close friends, and I only learned more about how cool she was.

On the last day of pre-orientation, the leaders held a Q&A session, so I asked anonymously, "Have you ever felt behind or that everyone else was so insanely successful?" The moment they read my question, they exclaimed "Yes! Of course!" Once again, I was shocked. These were some of the most insane people I've met so far; how could they say that? But they also gave me two pieces of advice that I still cherish:

1. While the people here may seem extraordinary, they're also inspiring and will lift you up in the best way possible.
2. Even if the Hopkins Admissions office was stupid enough to let you in, you're smart enough to make the most out of it.

During orientation and the first few days of class, I heard many other classmates express their own doubts. I dove headfirst into my new life, trying to make the most out of my time here. At first, I thought I was thriving. I was ahead on homework, I had filled out a bunch of club applications, and my social life, which I had been worried about, was actually doing really well!

I realized, though, that there was a part of me that still wanted to prove that I was worthy of being here. And as I started to get rejected by clubs, my false sense of confidence started to tumble down again. Perhaps I couldn't actually make an impact here. School started to get harder as well, and I felt myself getting caught in the mid-semester slump as my motivation waned.

Still, there was a silver lining. There were little moments that I could reminisce on, like goofing off during Adoremus rehearsal or giving up on a torturous math problem and drawing fish with my friends in PILOT. I also had my victories, like finding clubs and surviving my first midterms.

But above all, it's the people here. I've met so many amazing people, from my classes, dorm, fellowship, clubs and other random places. We love to rant and give advice to each other. Perhaps it's the shared pain of school that unites us. But it goes further than that. When my first chem midterm grade turned out to be less-than-ideal, my friend from the class said, "I don't know what you got, but I'm sure you'll be okay and will do better next time." I believed her. Every spontaneous lunch meetup, every "hi" from a high school friend and every late-night talk with my roommate reminds me of what I'd dreamed of when I heard that the Hopkins community was what made Hopkins so special.

So, my pre-orientation leaders were right. Sometimes, I still feel the Impostor Syndrome creeping up inside my head. As I get through the first half of my first semester, though, these thoughts come less. I'm inspired every day to grow into a person that I'll be proud of. I've found a place where I belong, and I'm grateful for everything that Hopkins has given me so far.

Elizabeth Rao is a freshman from Newtown, Pa., studying biophysics.

Polarized reception

Obviously, there are many critic reviews about The Life of a Showgirl, and they aren't all unified in their praise. Some reviews call the album inconsistent and not on theme, and some even point to some lyrical cringes. Esquire, for example, calls parts of the album "overworked metaphors, characters, and one-liners" that don't always land. Beats Per Minute worries it sometimes sounds like demos without a strong thematic thread. Many argue that the layers and emotionally piercing musical stories of Taylor's past have given the audience a standard that The Life of a Showgirl just doesn't match.

However, many critics are hyping the album and have absolutely fallen in love with its bouncy melodies, catchy hooks and loving energy. Rolling Stone lauds its sharp storytelling. Reuters frames it as Taylor leaning into her pop strengths again. And publications like Teen Vogue acknowledge that while not perfect, the album is an "enjoyable listen" of "concise pop."

Some are still confused as to where to place the album amongst Swift's Grammy-award winning and record-breaking discography. In the middle sits the Metacritic "generally favorable" zone (around 70/100) and listeners who are split between loving it, scratching their heads or critiquing specific lines and production choices.

Here are my two cents on where this disconnect comes from: A lot of the so-called weaknesses are actually what Swifties asked for. For years, since the glory of her 1989 days back in 2014 when she released, in my opinion, the modern pop bible, we as fans have begged Taylor to bring back the catchy tunes and glittering euphoric writing. This was prominent during her pop era, from which she then shifted to giving us diary-poetry albums filled with anxiety and melancholy. Now that she has delivered a collection of songs that meets every demand we have made in the past decade, some don't know how to process it. The "pop sparkle" isn't a crack in her artistry. It's the point.

Why The Life of a Showgirl works beautifully

When I listen with my heart and years of devotion, The Life of a Showgirl feels like the moment when Taylor says: "Yes, I can lean into love. Yes, I can have fun again. Yes, I can narrate a glamorous, theatrical inner life and still feel grounded."

With the curtains drawn on the Eras Tour and more eyes on her and her relationship than ever, The Life of a Showgirl feels like the glittering flip side of The Tortured Poets Department (TTPD). TTPD dug deep into heartbreak and literary sorrow with songs like "So Long, London" and "The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived," where the lyrics were like poems read to the melody of an ongoing melancholic piano. The lyrics would sprawl into never-ending grievances. The Life of a Showgirl, on the other hand, snaps with precision. The lyrics paint sharp cinematic moments that play in your mind as you dance along. Instead of the hushed grief of "loml" or the drained exhaustion of "The Prophecy," we get the bold celebration of the title track "The Life of a Showgirl" and the self-aware glamour of "Ruin the Friendship," where pain pirouettes under the spotlight. She's a character, she's playful and she's risky. On The Life of a Showgirl, Taylor isn't running from heartbreak anymore; she's choreographing it, sequins and all.

Plus, you can't talk about The Life of a Showgirl without touching on Taylor's long-awaited reconnection with Red, 1989 and Reputation producers Max Martin and Shellback. They bring the genius and pop-forwardness in only a way that the most successful and highly acclaimed producers of the modern era can. Yes, some critics will say she's chasing radio singles again. Maybe she is. But if that chase results in songs we can sing, decode, cry to and dance with, then I'm not mad at it.

That's actually what makes The Life of a Showgirl such a well-done piece of art: She proves that she can make a record where she meshes the best of her pure pop sparkle and the refinement of her pen in hushed acoustic ballads. It's different, but we are still reading Taylor's diary - it's just that now, her diary's written in screaming color.

Records, numbers and impact

Now, to prove she is the music industry:

• The Life of A Showgirl achieved the most first-week sales in history, selling 3.5 million pure album sales and charting #1 on the Billboard 200 with 4 million units in its first week, breaking the record held for over 10 years by Adele's 25.
• In just one day, The Life of a Showgirl sold 2.7 million copies (physical and digital) in the United States, which is one of the biggest single-day sales weeks in recent history.
• It broke the record for most vinyl sales in a week (at 1.2 million units in the U.S.).
• It became the most-streamed album in a single day of 2025 on Spotify and Apple Music.
• The lead single "The Fate of Ophelia" shattered Spotify's single-day record with 30 million streams, surpassing "Fortnight."
• The promotional film The Official Release Party of a Showgirl opened in theaters globally and earned approximately $34 million in North America during its opening weekend.
• Taylor also managed to, for a third consecutive time, occupy the entire top 10 on the Billboard Hot 100 charts, something no act has ever managed to do in the chart's history.

Beyond good numbers or trending sounds on TikTok, these are industry-shaking milestones. Taylor Swift has reached a level of stardom few people can even aspire to by not only breaking her own records, but by changing what the modern album rollout can be. The Life of a Showgirl isn't just a hit because of Taylor's fanbase and the excitement generated around anything Taylor drops. It's a reminder that to reach the general public, you still need a story, a vision and really good world-building. She is showing that commitment to craft and cohesion can still move millions. Her success feels bigger than numbers. It's proof that artistry and pop spectacle can live in the same spotlight, and that she's once again setting the standard for what the future of pop might look like.

The documentary premiere: more than marketing

Since Taylor announced that she would be holding an official release party at theaters across the world, going to the theater was a move I'd been looking forward to, and I was not disappointed. The Life of a Showgirl film wasn't just a puff piece. It combined behind-the-scenes footage, Taylor's commentary, the world premiere of the music video for "The Fate of Ophelia" and track-by-track explanations straight from her.

What struck me the most was how we got to see Taylor at her most vulnerable while she honed her craft. In the film, when Taylor talks about how a single hook came together or how she struggled to get a dance sequence right, the whole "showgirl" idea finally clicks. It's the strength to keep performing when you're tired, heartbroken or unsure of yourself - and the ability to do it all with sequins and smiles. Some critics say the music doesn't match the showgirl aesthetic, but I think that contrast is intentional. The glitter hides the exhaustion, the same way pop hides heartbreak.

That night, I left the theater with even more respect for how intentional she is. The documentary reframed the glitter, sometimes mistaken for emptiness, as a deliberate storytelling device.

What I hope comes next

Taylor has come out to say in recent interviews that she is not ready to tour yet and doesn't plan on doing a full run for the album, given that she just finished her 2-year-long 149-show stadium tour The Eras Tour. However, I can guarantee you this is just the beginning of the Showgirl era. Taylor's strengths lie in the absolute fanfare she can create for her musical projects, and The Life of a Showgirl won't be the exception. For this era, I expect to see a lot more visual projects, like music videos, artwork, photo shoots and appearances that build a world of glitz and glamour for Swifties to partake in. I also hope to get more alternate versions or stripped takes on select songs to show the full spectrum of what a true showgirl can do.

Final thoughts

For me, The Life of a Showgirl isn't an inconsistent project, and it definitely doesn't come off as a fatigued product written in between tour stops. It's Taylor proving that she can thrive in all types of environments and that her musical versatility knows no bounds. She can pivot from one extreme to the other and still hold her crown. We wanted bangers; she delivered bangers.

If you really listen, The Life of a Showgirl isn't a shallow and cash-grabbing piece. It's one of her bravest reframings yet: proof that joy, camp and glamour can be just as revealing as melancholy whispers.

And that, to me, is Taylor at her most powerful.

Another Stephen King film adaptation, The Running Man, hits theaters this Friday. Glen Powell plays a "runner" who agrees to take part in a deadly TV show in which he must survive 30 days to receive a hefty cash reward. Many film-heads may recognize director Edgar Wright's other films, including Scott Pilgrim vs. the World and Shaun of the Dead, which showcase his unique, geeky and kinetic style of comedy. The Running Man will bring this style to a much wider mainstream audience: It's Wright's most expensive movie ever and features a stacked cast including Glen Powell, Josh Brolin and Colman Domingo.

Though we are all familiar with the Apollo 11 mission, the first to bring humanity to the moon, we may have not heard of the Gemini program that made it possible. Jeffrey Kluger's upcoming non-fiction book Gemini: Stepping Stone to the Moon, The Untold Story releases this Tuesday; check it out to learn more about the least appreciated yet most groundbreaking space program in American history.

FKA twigs is following up her recent album EUSEXUA, released just this January, with a standalone sequel EUSEXUA Afterglow. Her recent single "Cheap Hotel" is a surreal, interlude-like track that lives in this after-party comedown vibe, as suggested by the album title. With this sequel, FKA twigs may be drawing from trip-hop influences in contrast to the electronic and art-pop sounds of the original EUSEXUA, and she might even have two legitimate Album of the Year contenders on her hands.

The President's Reading Series' next writer Patricia Smith has been called "a testament to the power of words to change lives," a statement anyone reading her poem "10-Year-Old Shot Three Times, but She's Fine" would certainly agree with. Smith is an award-winning author known for her books of poetry, including Unshuttered and Incendiary Art. Her reading this Wednesday will be on the theme of the "Literature of Social Import."

If you're looking for more, check out the rest of the list below:

To watch...

The Running Man, directed by Edgar Wright - Nov. 14

Now You See Me: Now You Don't, directed by Ruben Fleischer - Nov. 14

Keeper, directed by Osgood Perkins - Nov. 14

The Carpenter's Son, directed by Lotfy Nathan - Nov. 14

Trap House, directed by Michael Dowse - Nov. 14

To read...

Gemini: Stepping Stone to the Moon, The Untold Story, by Jeffrey Kluger - Nov. 11

Aces Full: A Wild Cards Collection, by George R. R. Martin - Nov. 11

Next Time Will Be Our Turn, by Jesse Q. Sutanto - Nov. 11

The Silver Book, by Olivia Laing - Nov. 11

The Strength of the Few, by James Islington - Nov. 11

To listen...

EUSEXUA Afterglow, by FKA twigs - Nov. 14

(((((ultraSOUND))))), by The Neighbourhood - Nov. 14

Criminally Attached, by Nicholas Craven & Boldy James - Nov. 14

Everything Is A Lot, by Wale - Nov. 14

Finally Over It, by Summer Walker - Nov. 14

Live events...

Patricia Smith: President's Reading Series - Literature of Social Import - Nov. 12 from 6-7 p.m. in Gilman Hall 50

• This event is free.

Visiting Artist Talk: Caleb Cole - Nov. 13 from 4-5 p.m. at JHU-MICA Film Centre

• This event is free.

Opera@Morgan and Peabody Opera Theatre Present "Street Scene" - Nov. 14, 15 from 7:30-9:30 p.m.; Nov. 16 from 3-5 p.m. at Morgan State University Murphy Fine Arts Center

• Tickets are $35. (There are discounts for seniors, Hopkins faculty and staff, and Morgan State University students.)

Holiday Makers' Market at Evergreen Museum & Library - Nov. 15 from 11 a.m.-3 p.m. at Evergreen Museum & Library

• This event is free.

Nov. 11, 2025

9:42 a.m.

As a result of the fire, Keswick Road between 33rd and 34th Streets was closed throughout the morning.

Nov. 10, 2025

6:34 p.m.

An affiliate of The News-Letter reported that the fire has ended with no casualties.

5:53 p.m.

The building that was set ablaze is known as "The Castle." This structure was constructed in 1899 with the old Northern District Police Station. In the past, The Castle's basement consisted of solitary confinement cells. Now, the building consisted of businesses such as a bridal shop.

5:40 p.m.

As the fire continues, students reflect on the impact of the situation. In an interview with The News-Letter, senior Elijah Bassford discusses the current trend of fires in Baltimore.

"Because there [have] been two fires in the same sequence, I don't know if that's an abnormality, or if it is indicative of something else going on in terms of response to fires in the city," he said. "I'm looking forward to when there's not a fire going on, on campus."

5:30 p.m.

Firefighters can be seen attempting to mitigate the fire.

5:25 p.m.

Students reported seeing smoke as well as rising flames from the fire on the road between Levering Hall and Hodson Hall. The fire reached above the buildings, with smoke trickling behind.

5:21 p.m.

Public Safety sent out a warning to the University community about the fire.

"Fire at 3335 Keswick, please stay out of the area," the statement read.

5:18 p.m.

Baltimore Fire announced on X that crews are working to contain the fire.

5:16 p.m.

Students reported seeing the flames from their residences, such as University West.

5:07 p.m.

Firefighters are actively responding to a three-alarm fire on 3355 Keswick Road near 34th Street in Hampden - the old Northern District Police Station. Individuals in the surrounding areas have been evacuated.

Hopkins students around the Homewood campus, specifically near Homewood Apartments, Olin Hall and Levering Hall, reported smelling burning, observing smoke and hearing fire trucks.

While I like to consider myself an honest person, I've realized lately that I'm often dishonest with myself. If a near-stranger were to ask me about my fears or my childhood, I'd hardly hesitate before answering with the truth. I've never been one to fear saying too much. The trick, that I've noticed recently, is that I've left a backdoor open. I consider myself honest so long as I believe the truth of what I'm saying, but there remains a subtle caveat: my own thoughts are not always reflective of what I mean. Let me explain.

I tell myself I love to write, and I do. I also tell myself that I would write more if only I had the time and, here I am over fall break, doing nearly everything but the writing I've supposedly been wanting to do. So I sit at my table, I tell myself to make a plan to write, to schedule it all out and my hand does not move toward my pen.

Ringing through my ears is the silence of denial. In sticking so steadfastly to this old truth that I love to write, I've stopped allowing myself all the room to negotiate with how that might change by the day. Rather than tapping into how I'm really feeling, as one might feel for the pull of hunger or thirst, I've simply told myself the way it is: you want to be a writer, so you love to write; so, at every instance, you must love it, otherwise what will you be?

Ancient pillars of self-truth, I've found, run the danger of becoming straw men in me. In rhetoric, the straw man is a false promise, an intentionally miswrought proposition that is mounted on the stand when someone has nothing better to say. Rather than admit defeat, the opponent must face the straw man. No matter that they are fighting thin air. Rather than ask myself why I don't want to write right now, I force myself to stay seated and stare at my screen, willing the desire to find me.

Call it a heuristic or a Johari window, but I've stuck perhaps too strongly to the idea that I know who I am. Growing up, it felt like the biggest compliment to be the child that knew what she wanted from life, the student who was always working toward something. I was a little morally scrupulous at a young age and always wanted to ensure that I was becoming the person I'd set out to be. I'd ask myself, before any action, if what I was about to do really aligned with the values I wanted to cultivate as a person. To do that required that I know the values I wanted to one day possess, so I set them out as pillars before I hit double-digits: loyalty, honesty, empathy, kindness, humility. I worked so hard to act only in the ways that would set me down the path of the person I wanted to become. From this, I wanted, more than anything, to act with intention. To retain autonomy in everything that I did. Somewhere along the way, this fierce want for will tumbled in the opposite direction.

I think the danger of certainty is that it can block off the nuanced present. Shouting to myself that I love to write muffles my ability to understand how I actually feel; rather than noticing the burnout, the growing headache, my scarce nutrition, I demand that I perform the person I believe I should be. This is not unique to writing. There are so many beliefs - I'm learning, as I'm learning to learn this - that have gone unquestioned for too long. And, oftentimes, the beliefs themselves aren't the problem but my misplaced certainty in them. Too quickly, knowing who I am has morphed into knowing who I think I should be, which, unchecked, gains the power to wall off the person I'm becoming.

Opening my senses to my present, I am still faced with the knowledge that I love to write. But what I want to do isn't map out a storyboard for some novel I conceptualized months ago. I want to play music loudly through my headphones and draft poetry. I'd rather work on a new story today than an old one.

These pillars of self-concept are not without importance and certainty is not the enemy. But when heuristics cut in the line of feeling, I try now to take notice. There is no pillar so worth defending that I lose myself in the process, and there will be no finding myself if I don't get a little lost along the way.

​​Kaitlin Tan is a senior from Manila, Philippines, majoring in Writing Seminars and Cognitive Science. She is the Voices Editor for The News-Letter. In her column, she tries to parse through the everyday static for something to hold onto.

The first time I feel the freshman blues, it's 7 p.m. in Baltimore, but 5 a.m. back home. My phone lights up with a text from my mom. It's nothing fancy, just a photo of her standard morning cup of chai (tea). She has always been an early riser. I know she doesn't expect a reply. She just wants me to see something familiar, to be reminded of what home feels like.

The second time I feel it is when I FaceTime my dad. He's lit up the Diwali lights along the balcony, strings of yellow and gold shimmering against the darkness. The call is grainy; the Wi-Fi keeps cutting out, but I can still hear the celebration behind him: neighbors talking, firecrackers hissing, a radio playing an old 70s song. Here, it's just another cold fall night in Baltimore. The distance suddenly feels enormous.

When your family lives in a different time zone, you learn to measure Home not by distance, but by hours. I've learned that "good morning" can arrive when the sky outside my dorm is pitch black, and "how was your day?" might come before mine has even begun. There's a strange intimacy in it, this time-delayed love. The moments overlap just enough to remind you that somewhere, someone you love is thinking of you, even if you can't quite occupy the same moment in time.

At first, I tried to fight the clock. I'd stay up late for calls, skip meals to catch a friend online, keep two clocks running on my desk like I could somehow live in both places at once. But the truth is, you can't. You learn to let time do its thing - to stretch, to warp, to create space between where you are and where you came from.

But sometimes, the guilt slips in. Like the night I couldn't call my sister in time because I had fallen asleep, exhausted after studying in Gilman until my brain was numb. For years, it was our small tradition: wishing her good luck before every exam, my way of being the older sibling from afar. Missing it feels heavier than I'd expected.

There's a loneliness that settles into the corners of your day when you live out of sync with home. You walk back from class at dusk, and the campus glows with the warmth of students and academia: people laughing outside Mudd, friends heading to the FFC for dinner. And yet, in that same moment, you know your parents are just starting their morning. You imagine the kettle whistling, the smell of breakfast, the faint clatter of spoons against mugs. Life continues there as it does here, but you exist somewhere in between.

I used to think homesickness was about missing a place. But really, it's about missing a time. It means learning to miss things quietly. You miss family dinners that happen while you're in class, holidays that fall on a Tuesday midterm, and the joy of existing in the same moment as the people you love. It also means learning how to build a new sense of belonging in this borrowed hour, a new home for yourself in a college town that wakes up when your family is falling asleep.

That's the hardest part about distance: it teaches you to live with unfinished moments. There will always be calls you miss, messages you reply to too late and celebrations you only see through a screen. But above it all, you learn to live with forgiveness. Forgiveness of self and others, because at the end of the day, everyone is trying to tell their story. Because being far away doesn't mean you're any less present in the lives of the people who matter.

In the evenings, I walk back from Gilman, I stand outside AMR III, watching the sunset. I'll watch the sky shift to the same shade of orange I know my parents are seeing, 10 hours ahead. For a brief second, the world feels folded in half, and time zones don't matter. I'm home, and I'm here. All at once.

Samika Jain is a freshman from Mumbai, India, majoring in Molecular and Cellular Biology. Her column holds onto things she probably should've forgotten by now, but she writes them anyway.

Fifteen minutes a day. That's it. After that time elapses - whether it's all at once or in smaller, two minute segments - a gray hourglass fills up my screen and white sand trickles through. No more scrolling for today.

Usually, at this point, I would turn off my phone. Nevertheless, I haven't been perfect about upholding my daily Instagram limit. There are times where my thumb hovers over the "Fifteen more minutes" button, while I tell myself, "a few more minutes of relaxation can't hurt." None of us are well-oiled machines, and downtime is necessary. Descending into the infinite rabbit hole of Reels provides the break I crave after a long Friday lab section or an exam - whether it's smiling at a funny meme, relishing the nostalgia of an old movie soundtrack or feeling touched by the occasional motivational video.

Instagram hasn't been a part of my life for that long. I only downloaded it toward the tail end of my senior year in high school, with the goal of staying up to date with campus life at Hopkins and connecting with fellow incoming students. However, I soon found myself falling into the trap of scrolling: laughing at a video of a golden retriever learning tricks from his caretaker or a string of skits satirizing the ups and downs of college life that either my friends liked or the algorithm curated for my feed. In those moments, it feels like I'm a part of something bigger than myself as I forward the same video to a friend or save it to a personal collection. Yet the Reels I scroll through blend together, becoming a blur and fading from memory a few hours later.

I've told myself that swiping through Reels can provide inspiration for my own work, especially in the realm of creative writing and making short videos. This is true to an extent, though I've found myself navigating a web of content put out by creators documenting early adulthood - losing bits of my voice there as I gravitate toward the posts that have attracted the most views and likes (after all, doesn't more engagement equate to "better" content - whatever better means?).

Plowing through short-form videos became the easier, more accessible choice when it comes to truly feeling recharged. Even though I don't open Instagram with the intent of doomscrolling, the fast-paced content provides a speedy dopamine rush, sometimes edging out meaningful forms of enjoyment. Prior to using Instagram, I found relaxation in turning the pages of a suspenseful novel - letting the words on the page morph into scenes carved out by my mind or in doodling on scraps of paper, letting my hand glide across the smooth page.

Or I would read an article or watch a long-form, and therefore more memorable, video on YouTube, either for pure entertainment, education or a combination of the two. These moments provided the space to get lost in a story or exercise my creativity, allowing for a genuine escape from my usual, fast-paced routines. I still find joy from all this, but finding something worth savoring has become more difficult than opening Instagram to a swarm of Reels, where one is guaranteed to resonate, even if just for a few seconds.

Ultimately, setting the Instagram time limit has helped me be more intentional with my time, returning to the simplicities embedded in the world around me. My time spent curled up in my chair with a good article or outside - strolling around campus and feeling the breeze tickle my skin - feels more refreshing. I've realized that scanning through people's Instagram stories or posts doesn't matter that much. While contributing to the flurries of likes and comments provided a temporary illusion of closeness, face-to-face conversations and the sound of laughter in real life remain etched in my mind for a longer time.

Each time the hourglass appears on my screen, I'm faced with a decision: to continue scrolling or slip my phone into my back pocket. These split seconds of sand falling to the bottom of the hourglass often provide just enough time for me to lift my thumb from the screen, and instead of succumbing to a small, but tempting craving, I become better at choosing myself.

Sareena Naganand is a sophomore from Piscataway, New Jersey majoring in Biomedical Engineering. Her column, "The Daily Chai," is about finding happiness in simple, insignificant moments: the kind that makes us smile, wrapping around us like the warmth that comes from drinking a cup of tea.

In 1951, without her knowledge or consent, doctors at Hopkins Hospital took cells from Lacks, a woman receiving treatment for cervical cancer. Those cells, later known as HeLa cells, became one of the most important tools in biomedical research, contributing to vaccines, cancer treatments and gene mapping. Yet, for decades, neither Lacks nor her family knew that her biological material had been immortalized and commercialized across the world.

The story of Lacks' cells raises ethical questions about consent and ownership in biomedical research, issues that Crichton explores fictionally.

Crichton's novel Next acts as an exploration into the ethics of biomedical research, asking the question "to what extent does science serve humanity, and when does it begin to exploit it?" Through a blend of satire and speculative fiction, Crichton crafts a world where innovation and exploitation blur beyond recognition.

The novel's premise revolves around the commodification of human biology - the idea that genes can be patented, sold and litigated over. The vision mirrors real-world controversies surrounding ownership of biological material, such as the case of Henrietta Lacks.

At its core, Next functions as a mirror to hold the scientific establishment accountable, encouraging readers to consider whether scientific innovations truly serve the public good or if they are primarily justified by capitalistic gain.

Central to the novel is the Burnet case, a man whose cells (which were taken during treatment for leukemia, much like Henrietta Lacks' cells) are later discovered to contain a gene capable of producing life-saving treatments and groundbreaking medical therapies. Without his knowledge, his tissues are patented, and his genetic material becomes corporate property. The courtroom debate that then follows (though fictionalized) reads like an extension of real bioethical discourse.

Crichton's critique of the biotechnology industry is based on how new genetic technologies changed the purpose of biology itself. Instead of simplifying study life, biology became a tool for profit and into an industrial science. The novel was published in 2006, a moment when the Human Genome Project had just completed and biotech patents were proliferating.

At that time, over 20% of the human genome was under some form of patent claim, allowing companies to control research access to genetic sequences. In 2013, the Supreme Court's decision in Association for Molecular Pathologists v. Myriad Genetics ruled that naturally occurring human genes cannot be patented, which fundamentally reshaped the legal landscape of research. Despite this, Next is an illustration of the dangerous precedent in the mid-2000s: the privatization of genetic commons and the ability to stifle innovation with intellectual property later.

This concern is directly echoed in Moore v. Regents of the University of California, a case from 1990 where a patient's cells were commercialized without consent (much like Burnet's in Next). This situation parallels, but differs from, the use of HeLa cells, as Moore's case involved explicit commercialization and legal disputes over ownership rather than secrecy. The court ruled that individuals would not retain property rights over discarded tissues, setting a precedent that shaped future debates about genetic ownership. Crichton thus fictionalizes this logic to expose its moral absurdity.

Although we are unsure if Crichton took inspiration from this case in particular, his narrative clearly engages with the same ethical questions it raised: who owns biological material and at what point does scientific progress cross into exploitation? The novel's exaggerated legal battles in dramatized courtroom scenes exaggerate the legal and ethical absurdities of this system, turning real-world tensions into a biting critique of biotechnology's entanglement with profit.

At Hopkins, this ethical dilemma is not abstract. The story of Henrietta Lacks embodies the same tension that Crichton dramatizes. While HeLa cells were the first "immortal" human line, the case demonstrated a structural blindness to research ethics.

The language of "innovation" and "discovery" can obscure a deeper truth. Crichton warns that as biotechnology advances, ethical questions don't disappear, but evolve. When genome sequencing costs less than a college textbook, the temptation to commodify science intensifies. The question is no longer can we manipulate nature, but whether we can do so ethically.

To define quantum mechanical tunneling, the basis of the complex world of quantum must be understood: particles are located not as a point but as a probability of its position. Schrodinger's equation establishes that there exists a probability that a particle will pass through a barrier even without sufficient energy. Quantum tunnelling is that exact effect, where particles go right through a seemingly impenetrable barrier. In the human world, that would be like walking through a wall, or even appearing on the other side of the wall in an instant. A regular particle with no quantum properties would never be able to do that. But in the quantum world, there's a probability that a particle will leak right through a barrier, as if it teleported over, due to the definition that they are located by a probability of position.

A previous Nobel Prize had been awarded in the 1973 for the discovery of quantum tunneling of single particles, which inspired foundations for quantum computers and was used in creating devices like scanning tunneling microscopes, but it was too microscopic to have larger, more impactful applications. The research published by Clarke, Devoret and Martinis back in 1985 received its recognition for the discovery of the quantum tunneling effect for not just single particles, but collections of particles, or more specifically, currents consisting of millions of electrons. That is macroscopic compared to the single particles found tunnelling before.

With the discovery of quantum mechanical tunnelling on this macroscopic level, many advancements can be made in the technology and scientific industries. Quantum computers are one of the most well-known applications of quantum physics known for their ability to complete certain tasks a regular computer can't in fractions of seconds. Applications of quantum mechanical tunneling of currents can help further improve the performance of these computers in complex calculations. In addition to that, there are potential applications of this discovery in several modern quantum technologies, including quantum cryptography for highly secure communication and quantum simulations used for modeling complex medical, chemical and biological systems. These technologies may become highly demanded by industries ranging from semiconductor production to high finance and logistics management. With this discovery, the door to a new era of innovation and efficiency driven by the principles of quantum mechanics is opened.

In an email to The News-Letter, physics major at the Whiting School of Engineering Peter Seelman expressed his excitement and thoughts regarding this announcement.

"Having just given a presentation on the math behind the prize for a physics class, it still feels like magic, but it's justified magic," he wrote. "The laureates ran experiments that took this quantum phenomenon and expressed it in a macroscopic circuit large enough to be held in your hand. I love physics because it's the study of the magic behind the universe, and experiments like these that examine the 'why' and the 'how' of that magic are doubtless worthy of this great honor."

Friday

Maryland Irish Festival, Maryland State Fairgrounds, 2200 York Rd., Timonium, 6-11 p.m.

The 51st annual Maryland Irish Festival kicks off the weekend with live Irish music, traditional dancing, cultural exhibits and plenty of food and drink inside the Cow Palace at the State Fairgrounds. This indoor celebration of Irish culture features dozens of local vendors and workshops, all supporting charitable causes across Maryland. Tickets are $18 for general admission on Friday.

Saturday

Oyfest 2025, Union Craft Brewing, 1700 W. 41st St., 12-5 p.m.

Union Craft Brewing's annual oyster festival returns with all you can eat oysters, live music and local beer to benefit the Oyster Recovery Partnership. Guests can meet regional oyster farmers, enjoy sets from King Cole and Afternoon Delight and cheer on contestants in Baltimore's famous oyster eating contest. Tickets are $10 in advance or $12 at the door, with food and drinks sold separately.

Patterson Park BrewFest, Patterson Park, 2601 E. Baltimore St., 12-4:30 p.m.

Patterson Park BrewFest brings together more than 40 local breweries along with food trucks, live music and neighborhood favorites. The event supports Friends of Patterson Park and celebrates one of Baltimore's most beloved green spaces. Tickets start at $23.18.

Sunday

Puppets Fight Back!, Le Mondo, 406 N. Howard St., 7:30-9:30 p.m.

The performance series Puppets Fight Back! returns to Le Mondo for its third and wildest edition yet, featuring puppetry, drag, burlesque and live music to benefit the Piscataway Land Trust. The lineup includes local favorites like Ollie Goss, MANiC! and Hunny Du Bunns, along with pop-ups from Ojos Magnificos and No Name Plant Collective. Tickets are $15 in advance or $20 at the door.

Extreme Heat: Panel & Closing Reception, 116 W. Mulberry St., 3:30-5 p.m.

The Extreme Heat exhibit closes with a panel featuring Baltimore City public officials Erica Pinket and Michelle "Shelly" Smith, alongside work by artists who collaborated with Hopkins researchers studying climate impacts. The discussion explores how art and science intersect to address rising urban temperatures. Admission is free.

Students living near the area reported strong smoke odors and sightings, with palm-sized debris visible at the Wyman Park Building. Additionally, students who were attending class in Krieger also reported having to evacuate the building to other facilities to continue sessions due to smoke.

Hopkins personnel from the Chemical and Biomolecular Engineering department also reported receiving instructions on pursuing work indoors. Additionally, students in proximity to the fire also received an alert to evacuate the area.

Nov. 8, 2025

9:41 a.m.

An email from Hopkins Rave Alert stated that the active fire in the area of 23rd and Sisson Street ended, and the area is all clear.

Nov. 7, 2025

4:10 p.m.

An affiliate of The News-Letter near the fire reported some palm-sized pieces of debris visible in the air at the Wyman Park Building and on the ground along Howard Street. Face masks were handed to people in the area to mitigate the effects of the smoke.

3:17 p.m.

Students in proximity of the fire reported receiving an alert calling on everyone in the area to leave immediately.

2:58 p.m.

In an email sent to affiliates in Chemical and Biomolecular Engineering, the department updated students and faculty on current instructions and guidelines regarding working indoors.

"At this time, we have not been instructed to evacuate, and it remains safe to continue working indoors. Please be aware that individuals who are sensitive to smoke may experience irritation or coughing. If you are affected, you may use your discretion to complete your essential work and leave early today," the department wrote.

2:45 p.m.

An image of the smoke from a student residing near the fire.

2:37 p.m.

In an interview with The News-Letter, senior Shaan Shabbir recalled his experience with the fire after commuting back from the School of Medicine.

"After I got off the JHMI, I started smelling smoke, and after walking to my apartment, I saw a heavy load of smoke, followed by swarms of messages about the fire. One of my friends mentioned how he needed to use his inhaler. For me, this was quite shocking, even though I'm used to fires from California. I never expected to experience something like this," Shabbir commented.

2:25 p.m.

A fire was reported to continue at 2230 Hampden Ave.

In a statement to The News-Letter, the University confirmed that Public Safety is aware of the situation, recommending all students to follow any upcoming RAVE alert emails.

"Public safety is aware [of the situation], and they may have additional updates later. In the meantime, people should follow public safety directions from the RAVE alerts," a University spokesperson wrote. "While this is not a Hopkins building, given the location and proximity, it is a great concern to our community."

2:07 p.m.

Students across the Homewood campus have reported their first-hand experience with the fire. In buildings, students have reported being relocated from smoke-filled areas to adjacent classrooms. A student in Krieger Hall expressed that their room was filled with smoke, but they were told to move rather than canceling class.

In an interview with The News-Letter, sophomore Ziyan Liu explained how the fire interrupted her class, Research Methods in Psychology.

"We were in section when we smelled burning, and concerned, our professor called public safety, who told us to stay put and they [would] send someone to investigate. Later, we were moved from [Krieger] to Ames, but the smoke was just as bad," she wrote. "While I appreciate how highly education is valued at [Hopkins], I am concerned that sometimes the health and well-being of students are not prioritized."

The News-Letter continues to document the fire from the Wyman Park Building.

2:02 p.m.

The Baltimore City Fire Department (BCFD) confirmed on an X post that the firefighters are working to take the fire under control.

"BCFD is currently on the scene of an active fire at the 400 block of W 23rd Street," the department wrote. "Crews are working diligently to contain the blaze and ensure the safety of all individuals involved. Please avoid the area and updates will be provided as they are available."

Baltimore City firefighters have since evacuated the building and nearby areas. The Maryland Transit Administration has detoured buses heading to the area until 5 p.m.

No injuries or damages have been specified at this time.

One student, junior Nia Barkley, discussed her perspective on the fire as a student who resides close to the incident.

"The fire is super [dangerous, and] I'm nervous for those who suffer from asthma, weak lungs, and children. I pray that God will protect everyone in the surrounding area," she wrote.

1:52 p.m.

Allegedly due to a propane tank explosion, a four-alarm fire broke out in a commercial building in Remington, West 23rd St., North Baltimore - 2230 Hampden Ave. In an interview with The News-Letter, students living in Nine East 33rd reported witnessing a "giant black explosion" and smoke clouds. One of these students, senior Sarp Kayabas, expressed his concern.

"I just watched it blow over the whole campus," he said.

The News-Letter documented the fumes arising from the fire from the Wyman Park Building.

When analyzing genetic data, one of the main principles to consider is that two individuals will always share a common ancestor. That is to say, if two individuals' inherited alleles are traced far back enough, they will eventually coalesce at a common ancestor. The presence of such ancestral individuals existing for any sample shows the effects of behaviors like survival, migration, mating and reproduction on the human genome.

Ramachandran highlighted that genes were more scattered in the recent past than would be anticipated by classic models - potentially the impact of increased migrations, mixing and other population changes that alter natural evolution as a result of human influences like colonialism.

Now, with large genetic biobanks available, more in-depth analysis of the proportion of both distant and close relatives in a population can be conducted. Ramachandran's team aimed to distinguish relatives based on if they were maternal or paternal to resolve challenges in phasing - the process by which parental haplotypes can be found from their child's diploid genotype. While phasing normally focuses on assigning maternal or paternal sections in individual chromosomes, more haplotypes emerge when considering the combinations between multiple chromosomes. This could carry significant implications in understanding long range parental origin effects, or to understand how each parent's genetic contribution differed in their offspring.

To understand why the effectiveness of this technique varied, Ramachandran's team analyzed their methodology to find the existence of relatives who shared both maternal and paternal DNA. They found that the frequency of these relatives concentrated in specific geographic locations as they looked further back in time. This observation could likely be explained by geographically constrained human reproductive patterns in ancient times.

Thus, Ramachandran's work raised questions about how population data can inform our understanding of demographic dispersal, how relatedness bias can affect our understanding of past population distribution and, most importantly, how the redaction of large amounts of data from population censuses due to genetic similarity could be mitigated.

The Ramachandran Lab also focuses on using clustering algorithms to analyze cells to determine their cell types and functions. These data allow researchers to study processes like cancer progression, tissue formation and gene expression changes that occur under different conditions.

Designing efficient algorithms to determine cell types has its challenges. Firstly, many of these algorithms, known as stochastic algorithms, tend to give multiple different series of results that need to be properly aligned before they can be interpreted. This process is time-consuming and possibly error-prone. Secondly, these algorithms will sometimes output different solutions for the same set of inputs, making it difficult to determine an accurate classification of cell type and function.

"When I was in graduate school, and even afterwards, I had to spend a lot of time trying to align these plots. I did it by hand, and I think I wasted days of my life doing this," Ramachandran recalled.

To solve this, Xiran Liu, a postdoc at Ramachandran's Lab, developed a software called "Clumppling," which solves some of the aforementioned issues, decreasing the complexity of algorithm results and making them more comprehensible.

The team performed tests using outputs from Seurat and Scanpy, two well-known clustering algorithms, on the Clumppling software to ascertain its reliability and efficiency at identifying cell groups. Clumppling revealed that the classification of some cell groups, such as CD14+ monocytes, was accurate, whereas the classification of other cell groups was less clear. This initial example demonstrates how Clumppling can be used in conjunction with clustering algorithms to increase the precision of single-cell analyses.

Clumppling was also applied to analyze breast cancer tumors. The program showed that the healthy tissue and tumor edge areas were less clearly defined than the invasive carcinoma tumors. Importantly, Clumppling enabled the team to identify previously-known markers driving these cell classifications, validating their approach and indicating the effectiveness of their program.

Lastly, Ramachandran's work challenged a common practice in single-cell analysis. Researchers typically analyze only highly variable genes (HVGs) to improve computational efficiency, discarding genes that show less variation across cells. However, when her team performed clustering using either all genes, only HVGs or only non-HVGs separately, Clumppling revealed that some non-HVG genes were significant for clustering. This result suggests that excluding non-HVGs may cause researchers to overlook potentially valuable biological information.

Ramachandran questioned the general practice of only analyzing HVGs.

"The last thought I want to leave you with is whether subsetting to highly variable genes is a good practice for clustering or not," Ramachandran said. "It's a very common thing that's done in this field. But one question is, should we actually be doing it?"

Ramachandran's clustering alignment framework addresses the critical issue regarding the inherent variability present in clustering algorithms. With Clumppling, her lab has pioneered a systematic approach to evaluate result consistency, track cluster emergence and discover biologically relevant genes. As genomic datasets grow larger and more complex, such methodologies will be essential to ensure that computational convenience does not come at the cost of biological insight.

"We would like to recommend to people who work with functional genomic data to run clustering multiple times and apply clustering alignment," Ramachandran explained. "It… gives us the opportunity to think about identifying genes that are driving clusters, which I think would be an exciting thing for functional genomics."

One of the opening scenes foreshadows a critical issue plaguing the intentionally provocative script: Not only is every character hammered with a static set of beliefs, but almost every superficial question the story provokes has a forced answer without any engaging development. The first text the viewer sees on a black backdrop reads, "It happened at Yale," which establishes the film's prestigious university setting before the inciting incident at Alma's apartment. Alma and her therapist husband, Frederik (Michael Stuhlbarg), are hosting a party for the philosophy department with a literary salon-like ambience of elitism.

Alma is listening to a conversation between Hank and Maggie about the latter's dissertation on "performative discontent," or the virtue ethics of appearing moral solely to preserve a personal image. Her dissertation topic mirrors frequent questions the script also asks: Who is acting under the guise of integrity? Who is actually righteous?

Having Maggie's thesis be so on-the-nose with the film's messages is a choice that could have allowed for a satirical response or a more thorough critique of virtue ethics. Instead, like the rest of After the Hunt, her dissertation never becomes nuanced. Maggie notes it's not complete when Hank criticizes how it only seems like part of an idea, and neither she nor the story is willing to come to any conclusion about what it means to be virtuous.

The rest of Hank and Maggie's conversation shifts to how Alma and Hank are both in competition for the last tenure spot. One of their graduate students remarks that Alma should have nothing to be worried about, as the current culture has deemed the cis, straight and white male, such as Hank, the enemy. As a Black woman in academia, Maggie justifiably refutes this point as far from reality, and Alma says that this victim mindset is developed to take away from the meaningful work that those in lower social positions have to accomplish to be recognized. Hank bemoans how difficult it is to maintain an inoffensive character in the present political climate.

Aside from how cliched the actual dialogue is in this scene, each character occupies a straightforward archetype. Alma is the lone-wolf female professor of the philosophy department who, like Maggie, is rightfully aware of the hindrances her identity might have contributed to her career. Hank is socially privileged and is a brute when any topic of political correctness appears.

By the end of the film, nothing about the characters' beliefs changes. Who is good, who is bad, who is deserving, who is selfish and even whether or not the rape happened are all verdicts made apparent if one has progressed beyond a high school level of contextual analysis. After the Hunt steers away from the gray in-between complexity a character might have by making it clear who is right and who is wrong with black-and-white evidence.

After the Hunt has little interest in exploring how #MeToo as a movement, or how sexual assault cases broadly, manifest in reality. It avoids discussing whether or not #MeToo has shaped a change in appropriate behavior in a professional environment or delving into Maggie's internal struggles in the midst of an accusation. Hank is an unlikable, violent jerk, and the viewer (or the university, for that matter) has no real reason to align themselves with him. In actual high-profile cases, there is much more ambiguity. It would be interesting to explore how a student might navigate a case against a professor at an elite college - an environment primed with complicated circumstances and psychological struggles for dissection.

Rather than explore this, the story swiftly reprimands Hank and validates Maggie, and then it focuses on Alma's response to Maggie confiding in her. However, this is where After the Hunt offers an intriguing idea. While it fails to uniquely address #MeToo or sexual assault, After the Hunt depicts a complex dynamic between two women of different generations and how they traverse their patriarchal world.

The intergenerational divide between Alma and Maggie is critical to both of their characters. Maggie looks up to Alma as a figure of success in a male-dominated field. Alma is not only possessive of Maggie as a proxy for her feminist image of female solidarity, but she is just as jealous of Maggie and the society she inherited. Maggie's peers have been more progressive in dismantling patriarchal notions, encouraging and supporting women who speak out more often than they had in Alma's young adulthood.

When Maggie tells Alma about Hank's assault against her, Alma's response is initially rooted in envy. She questions why Maggie would go to her first before any higher authority at the university, but Maggie explains her decision is based on her knowledge that Alma went through a similar experience. Alma responds harshly, casting doubt on Maggie's accusation. She is aware Maggie has the proper tools to find closure and justice, and Alma acts with resentment because she never had the same opportunities or retributive policies that Maggie has access to.

Their dynamic becomes more multifaceted when the story hints at Maggie having a crush on Alma. With the sexual tension between Hank and Alma, the film now involves a messed-up but genuinely provocative love triangle between the three. Maggie's queer relationship brings out boomer resentment from Alma; there are several moments where Alma debases Maggie's relationship by questioning her partner's non-binary identity. After the Hunt is a picture of the way frustration and envy can materialize in separate generations of women.

Unfortunately, most of After the Hunt's runtime is dedicated to the banal questions of who did or did not do something. Alma and Maggie's dynamic is cut short with a timeskip epilogue that smothers any development they could have had with one another.

An argument could be made that its innocuous remarks on #MeToo and sexual assault are decisive non-statements the film intentionally makes. With this reading, After the Hunt is supposed to represent a cultural and political climate where people are inclined to display proper morals without any deeper investigation or application of their principles in practice. However, like Maggie's thesis, the point is an obvious finding without offering any resolutions about what to do in a society that operates so shallowly.

This trivial non-statement is made worse by having dialogue almost as trite as the script's ideas. Like the party scene, other scenes meant to convey the characters' profound intellectual abilities end up in tired discussions. The film takes place at Yale, but these supposedly intelligent individuals will make simple claims about the subjects of their studies such as "Carl Schmitt was a Nazi," "Heidegger treated Arendt like shit" and "Freud was a misogynist" without any elaboration on why these are worthwhile points to make when interpreting their work.

These statements are only brought up to serve as examples of the characters' surface-level moralities; they will acknowledge the evils of talented and influential figures without figuring out what they have to do in response. While this could be a succinct example of the script's own commentary on ethics, this moment only forces the viewer to question whether or not any of these characters are capable of any critical thinking.

One could say the point is that these characters lack the ability to make sophisticated arguments, but then the prestigious university setting becomes difficult to accept. Perhaps, the script is saying that even at elite colleges, people still participate in narrow analysis. Maybe, they're actually encouraged to limit their discussions. These infamous institutions have historically up-held a rigid social-order that prioritizes certain demographics over others. However, this isn't the film's intention: After the Hunt is not satirizing how higher education operates, because it treats the academic backdrop with earnestness.

The setting is used only as a tool for increasing the stakes of the situation. Furthermore, the film does want you to think its characters are smart and serious; their intellects are not only framed as vital components of their personalities but as the main reason why these people have achieved what they have. This becomes hard to believe when you only see these characters reiterate the most elementary rhetoric exercises.

The performances in After the Hunt attempt to compensate for the script's shallowness, but ultimately, they are mostly blunders. Julia Roberts delivers a great lead performance, but she outclasses her co-stars to the point where it becomes hard to watch her scene partners try to keep up. Andrew Garfield goes a bit overboard with Hank's douchebag-like nature, and this clashes with scenes meant to be intentionally tense and contained. In the confrontation between Alma and Hank, Garfield's acting choices make Hank so abrasive it becomes eye-rollingly annoying to watch. While Ayo Edeberi plays any form of anxious behavior very well, she does not project the confidence or charisma that Maggie supposedly has. Her cadence makes Maggie seem more spineless than she should be.

Even the score, composed by the talented Atticus Ross and Trent Reznor, is as lazy as the rest of the film. Their work has usually elevated Guadagnino's pictures, but here, they continuously insert abrupt notes and sounds to create an eerie, uncomfortable atmosphere. This is a common technique, but like the rest of the movie, it is executed in such a predictable and boring manner that it becomes dull before the half-way point is even reached.

Luca Guadagnino is at his best when depicting the intricacies of a relationship complicated by personal desires and societal expectations, and After the Hunt has glimpses of what it could have excelled at. Rather than do this, Guadagnino's newest film coddles the viewer with a benign but flat portrayal of sexual assault and how it might engage with the hierarchies of higher education. Opting to say nothing of value when it could go against the grain, After the Hunt is the result of moralism: disappointing, inept and unfulfilling stories for the sake of audience appeasement at all costs.

Coming off a dominant 68-win 2024-25 season (out of 84 games), the Oklahoma City Thunder's young core won't be slowing down soon. Shai Gilgeous-Alexander, last season's lead scorer (average 32.7 points) now carries a new resume of accolades: regular-season and finals MVP, National Basketball Association (NBA) champion and scoring champion. He had much to uphold coming off that historic season, and these first two weeks have further solidified his worth and leadership. He dropped 120 points in the first three games alone, including a 55-point game during a double-overtime win over the Indiana Pacers, a testy rematch of the 2025 NBA Finals.

The Thunder relied on his command, especially in the fourth quarter. Gilgeous-Alexander notably had a career high of 26 free throw attempts, calmly sinking 23 of them. As of Oct. 29, the Thunder lead the Western Conference with a convincing 5-0 clean sweep. It will be interesting to see how the team's cap space and salary restrictions play out, considering the depth of players and potential in developing several all-star caliber players. Two questions rock the minds of countless fans: how far can the Thunder go this season, and is this the beginning of a dynasty?

Flashes of rookie potential

With all eyes on Cooper Flagg and his start as point guard - an entirely new position for him - the Dallas Mavericks appear to be in a bit of a setback. The Mavs lacked offensive efficiency, ranked second to last in the 2025-26 NBA Offensive Rating with 102.1 points per 100 possessions (as of Oct. 29). Still, the 18-year-old, the youngest Number One pick since Lebron James' 2003 draft, has been handling the high expectations despite critiques. Flagg will have a lot to learn and contribute this coming season, especially with the return of Kyrie Irving expected early 2026. A starting five including D'Angelo Russell via free agency, Anthony Davis and Klay Thompson proves to be a talent-stacked lineup worth keeping an eye out for.

Other surprising flashes from the 2025 draft class have come from number two pick, Dylan Harper, who was an instrumental contributor to the San Antonio Spurs' 4-0 season kickoff. His versatility and high basketball IQ in his collegiate career at Rutgers remain significant at the professional level.

The Philadelphia 76ers take pride in VJ Edgecombe who has displayed refreshing maturity as both a playmaker and passer. He not only exceeded the rookie board on assists for the first three games but also acquired a 34-point debut, which was recorded as the highest scoring debut for any player in NBA history since Wilt Chamberlain.

On the note of making history, Charlotte Hornets' guard Kon Knueppel has made the accomplishment of having the most three-pointers in the first five games by any NBA player. His high shooting efficiency, especially beyond the arc, has sparked the team's offense. Interestingly, Hornets rookies Ryan Kalkbrenner and Sion James have also shown flashes of high-efficiency scoring. Seeing their development into role players would provide greater team depth.

The Reaves show

Austin Reaves of the LA Lakers went off for 50 points against the Sacramento Kings. Starting as an undrafted 2021 prospect, this made history with the second-best scoring game put up by an undrafted player (three points shy of the title). This was followed by another strong performance (41 points, 12/14 free throws).

He also joined a limited cohort of Hall of Famers who dropped 40+ on back-to-back nights during the first four games, and is the only Laker since 2000 to make 50+ points. Reaves continued to make a difference with 16 assists against the Minnesota Timberwolves, and shocked fans with a buzzer-beater for a tight win by one. This potential, combined with the strong force of Lebron James and Luka Doncic, could be an exciting trio. This dominance may land him a max deal for 2026 when his contract with the Lakers expires.

Injury hurdles

Notably, the Pacers lack star point guard Tyrese Haliburton for the year due to a devastating achilles injury. Most of the starting five from last year's final season are also out. The NBA permits players to sign hardship exception deals to join on a 10-day contract to help fill rosters, which the Pacers used to sign guard Mac McClung.

The Boston Celtics, burdened without their superstar Jayson Tatum, now rely on Jaylen Brown as their primary scoring option. With Brown's recent hamstring scare, there are questions on whether Tatum will be rushed back from his recovery process or if the team will make changes for a higher lottery pick. Considering their 0-3 start, many decisions will need to be made down the road.

Other shoutouts

Kicking off as the Western Conference Player of the Week, Victor Wembanyama of the San Antonio Spurs has already brought on the heat, leading the first week on a 3-0 run. With this, he became the first NBA player to record 100+ points, 40+ rebounds and 15+ blocks in the first three games. A dual threat on both ends of the floor, especially on the defensive end, has shone as he carries the title for the highest block percentage of any player in NBA history.

This season has had a surprising uptick in high-scoring (40+ point) performances. Denver Nuggets' Aaron Gordon took matters into his own hands with a 50-point night, including 10 for 11 beyond the arc. However, this was subdued by Steph Curry's 42-point explosion during the Golden State Warriors' home opener. Gordon's stat line impressed none other than the three-point revolutionizer himself. "Ridiculous. Whatever he did this summer worked," Curry remarked. Lauri Markkanen of the Utah Jazz added a perfect 17/17 from the free throw line, where he became the first Jazz player to score 50+ since Hall of Famer Karl Malone.

Exciting things to come

This early-season snippet proves the league's thrilling journey is still ahead. Among breakout candidates, team rebuildings, rising talents, player narratives, new coaching styles and adjustments, familiar rivalries, tense showdowns and more, the NBA fandom is brought to the edge of its seats. Up next? The October to November in-season NBA cup!

Cross Country

This weekend was the Centennial Conference Cross Country Championships at Gettysburg College for both the men's and women's teams. The course winds around the college with two different finish lines for an 8,000-meter men's race and a 6,000-meter women's race.

The 8000 race was absolutely dominated by Blue Jay speed. Senior Emmanual Leblond finished first and was joined on the podium by freshman Anthony Clark and junior Kenny Wanlass. This marked a new PR for Wanlass. Only two schools made the top ten, and eight of those spots were taken by Hopkins athletes. This awarded the team a score of 19, where the next best team had 66 points.

The 6000 race was equally impressive. Same as the men, eight of the top ten finishers were from Hopkins, and the team ended with 15 points. The host team Gettysburg ended in second. Sophomore Carter Brotherton scored gold, sophomore Storrie Kulynych-Irvin scored silver and a new PR, and senior Adriana Catalano was the last to join them on the podium.

Women's Volleyball: W (3, 0), L (1, 3)

The women's volleyball team knows how to clean the slate. They swept their match Wednesday against Washington College at home in the Goldfarb gym. The Blue Jays kept their record undefeated in the Centennial Conference and advanced their national DIII ranking to seventh. In both sets one and three, Hopkins defeated the Shorewomen by exactly or more than eight points, with only the second set coming down to a three point difference. Senior Simone Adam, senior Alice Yu and freshman Jocelyn Pye all tied for the greatest number of kills this match (six). Sophomore Annika Anderson led the team in assists (17), and sophomore Nicole Tuszynski led the Jays in digs (12).

The Jays then traveled to Haverford to take on the Fords on Saturday. Set one was easily won by the Jays while two was much closer, with the Fords winning by only two points. The third set was also taken by the Fords, but this time by a larger deficit. The Jays put up a fight but fell in the fourth set to lose the match and experience their first conference loss of the season.

Women's Soccer: W (2, 0), W (2, 0)

Entering Wednesday's game against Dickinson, the two teams had a similar record. However, the Blue Jays showed up strong and made their evenly matched opponent look like amateurs. With this win, they gained a spot in the conference rankings. Hopkins outshot the Red Devils 14-4, 10 of which were on goal. The Jays got on the board early with a goal by sophomore Carolyn Johnson. Johnson also kicked a staggering seven shots during the game. Dickinson's goalie didn't let up easily, she saved eight of these shots on goal, but an error in the eighth minute of play allowed sophomore Irene Sanchez Burgueño to slip the ball easily past and into the net. The rest of the game was cemented by three good stops by freshman goalie Ella Kruntchev.

They then traveled north to face Ursinus College on Saturday. Like on Wednesday, the Blue Jays dominated game play at the net, outshooting their opponent by over 10 shots. Playing eight more corners than Ursinus no doubt added to the opportunities. Burgueño scored her second goal of the week after junior Caroline Marcus knocked one into the goal around twenty minutes earlier.

Football: W (47, 26)

Football joined many of the other sports on a trip up to Pennsylvania this weekend. They faced #13 Muhlenberg and managed to stay undefeated. Not only did the offense show up for seven touchdowns, the defense held their ground to keep both the first and fourth quarters scoreless. Standouts were sophomore DB Spencer Kramer who had one interception and junior DL Will Seibert who ended with nine total tackles. Muhlenberg had 307 total yards to Hopkins' 476, but the defense managed to hold off opposing touchdowns and force punts. Turning back to our points scorers, senior RB Geoff Schroeder rushed a career high 232 yards which is also the most rushing yards by any Hopkins player since 2012.