It’s impossible to nail down the exact percentage of memories I have that are explicitly tied to music; in fact, it might be necessary to add a qualifier in order to get closer to a more concrete answer. If I adjust the question to ask, “What percentage of my happy memories are tied to music?”, it becomes easier to figure out a precise number.
The edges don’t move ‘cause the edges don’t move. The edges never really gave a damn about you. The ocean and the sand, the beach and the land — If you ain’t ever been then you’ll never understand. Will Wagner, my bandmate, the pink to my yellow, sent me this hook some six months ago.
2020 has been a year of social distancing and mask wearing, of avoiding the common elevator in my apartment and keeping six feet away from passersby in public. While I was stuck in America, not only was I constantly stressed about the ever increasing COVID-19 cases here, but I also found myself in emotional solitude.
I don’t care about the planet. I have no sense of compassion toward the rocks and minerals that make up this gravitational mass. I have no sense of duty to the gases and elements that collect to form our atmosphere.
Several months ago, I had the idea for an article. My initial plan was simple: three trash-free days. I’d prove that the challenge, which has popped up occasionally on my social media, is interesting enough to write about. However, I didn’t think much about what that pledge actually entailed.
This Intersession, I took a course titled Poetry and Climate Change, taught by English graduate student Alex Streim. I’d initially thought that the class would entail penning sonnets to stop the ice caps from melting.
Last year, the University unveiled a new initiative that would require two-thirds of all campuses’ electricity nationwide to come from solar power. This was the next step in the University’s 2010 pledge to reduce its carbon emissions by 51 percent by 2025.
I am a history buff. Lucky for me, I am not the only student here that has adopted historical research as a pastime. To quote Mark Twain, “History doesn’t repeat itself, but it often rhymes.” The past can thus serve many purposes, and for our contemporary world, the best we can do is, well, learn from it.
When we consider the question of why climate change is bad, we tend to think of a number of reasons. These may include greater frequency of wildfires, threats to agriculture, ecological damage, decreased air quality, more hazardous weather conditions due to anomalous ocean temperatures and greater frequency of vector-borne diseases, just to name a few.
At first, all was quiet on Homewood Campus. In the weeks since students and faculty fled due to the coronavirus (COVID-19) pandemic, campus security reported few disturbances, save for a few intoxicated students wandering the premises.
In an email sent to the student body on Monday, University President Ronald J. Daniels announced that commencement for this year’s graduating seniors will be conducted virtually on the multiplayer online game, Minecraft.
This past week, all the buzz around the Hopkins community has surrounded how the University would handle grading this semester as a result of the coronavirus. As petitions advocating for A/A-, optional Satisfactory/Unsatisfactory and every grading system in between circled in group chats everywhere, many questions arose about the University’s institutional responsibility.
The Student Government Association (SGA) held its first weekly meeting over Zoom last Tuesday, March 24. Amid their usual discussions about student club policies and vague ideas of transparency, the council passed a bill banning the coronavirus from Homewood Campus. The Corona <<<<<< Natty Boh Bill outlines the concrete ban on COVID-19 and the process by which SGA senators will personally remove the disease from Hopkins and all students.
The coronavirus (COVID-19) pandemic has been a source of distress for students across America, who will miss the joys of a college experience this spring. At Hopkins, however, little has changed. For Hopkins students, who spend most of their time crying in windowless rooms in the bowels of Brody, self-quarantine has been college life as usual.
The News-Letter has discovered that Hopkins brought coronavirus (COVID-19) to the U.S. so that students wouldn’t be disappointed by the inadequacies of this year’s Spring Fair. Due to an organizational review led by Student Leadership Impediment (SLI) Director Calvin Hobbes, Jr., the annual springtime celebration was months behind on planning this year.
The month of March was pretty bad for Hopkins students, from campus closing to commencement being cancelled, but there has emerged a singular bright spot in the darkness of COVID-19. It was announced today, April 1, that Spring Fair will take place this year via Zoom. Students will be able to access the only event that makes Hopkins worth attending via a link sent to their student emails.
I’ve never really thought myself as a rebel. Stubborn? Sometimes. Difficult? It depends on the person and the situation. But a rebel? Not really.
I am Laís. I am Latinx, I am Hispanic, I am Brazilian, I am a woman. These are all my “identities,” and I accept these identities now, but that wasn’t always the case. I know in my heart I’m apart of the Latinx community, but why do I feel like because I have white skin and European heritage, that I’m not a valid member, even when it’s the identity I fit into the most?
I just took a DNA test, turns out I’m 100 percent that b—. Well, not quite, but love you Lizzo. I took a DNA test in January, got the results a month later and found out that I’m not 100 percent anything. Don’t worry, it wasn’t some shocking turn of results — I knew my DNA would prove to be a multicolored pie chart.
There is a cemetery in Korea whose name I do not know, far away from Seoul and deep in the mountains, where my maternal ancestors are buried. Apart from my grandfather who passed when I was eight, I do not know their names or faces.
