Over the last week, the world that we live in has changed considerably from what it was when we started this semester. But I don’t have to tell you that.
Editor's Note: This letter remains in the condition it was sent and has not been edited.
I never anticipated writing this one. Last week, as Gov. Cuomo moved SUNY schools to a “distance-learning” model for the remainder of the semester in response to the coronavirus, our staff had to make a decision.
My friends call me “the mayor.” When they walk around campus with me I stop and say hi to everyone. I get it from my dad: A blind confidence that makes a person feel comfortable so that 10 minutes later, we’re laughing like old friends. It’s what makes me a good journalist, and I like being well known. But I don’t just do it because I’m friendly. It’s also a defense mechanism.
We don’t typically associate rape culture with college athletics. But maybe we should. Harvey Weinstein. Larry Nassar. R. Kelly. Bill Cosby. We have finally turned our ears to the cries of their countless victims. But the #MeToo movement is bigger than the individuals. We ignore the system that allowed these men to commit countless sexual offenses, vandalize the lives of their victims and leave countless people damaged, scarred and traumatized. This same system serves as the foundation of college athletics.
I was kept prisoner by a three-digit number for years. Every morning, the first thing I would do when I got out of bed was step on the scale and allow whatever arbitrary number appeared to dictate my day.
When I walk down the street with my significant other, I know people look at us. Some of them catcall. Some whistle. And I know why. It’s because I’m holding hands with a woman.
*This column contains sensitive content about sexual assault which may be triggering. Harvey Weinstein is sitting in Rikers Island jail right now, awaiting a March 11 sentencing for two felony sex crimes.
Every kid grows up waiting for those big milestone birthdays that define their path to adulthood. Many idolize turning 16 because they can’t wait to get behind the wheel of a car. Others look forward to 21 so they can have their first legal drink. But I always looked forward to 18 so I could finally fulfill my civic duty to vote.
My insurance company hates me. In the last six months, I’ve had two visits with my primary care physician, three with my gastroenterologist, I’ve filled three prescriptions, had two rounds of bloodwork and one surgical procedure.
EDITOR’S NOTE: The UB Foundation has not released its list of current investments and, when asked Wednesday, did not comment on if it is investing in fossil fuels. UBF Executive Director Ed Schneider wrote in a statement that UBF does not comment on “specific investments in its portfolio.” This letter was not edited for grammar.
Let’s just get this out of the way. This is the column where I come out in support of “The Human Centipede.” After studying film for four years, I support its right to exist, people’s right to view it, to be critical of it, but most of all I support how director Tom Six was able to cross the line of the type of content that succeeds in the horror genre.
For some women across the U.S., clothes shopping is a cathartic, fun experience. For others, it’s a nightmare. Every day, women across the country find themselves facing off against an invisible assailant; one that slowly eats away at their body image and self-confidence.
We’re told to carry pepper spray, to check the child lock while getting into Ubers and not to leave our drinks unattended at parties. I’m extra cautious while traveling alone. I look back twice while walking down empty streets in the dark.
I didn’t start actively voting in elections until 2019, when I voted in the mayoral election in Mount Vernon, NY. Some know the small town for its corruption with public officials. Corruption can affect not only the residents living within the community but also the younger generations, too.
I am a hopeless romantic. And I’ve never had a difficult time finding a boyfriend. As a conventionally attractive woman, I know that I draw stares. I notice when men glance at me 11 times in Bert’s and I count each time they offer me drinks at parties or joke that I’m not finishing them fast enough.
Most people would consider the infamous line, “paint me like one of your French girls,” between Jack and Rose in the 1997 film “Titanic” one of the most romantic scenes ever portrayed between two young people on the big screen. It’s practically common knowledge that, in this scene, Rose poses completely nude, while she is respectfully drawn by her love interest. The dynamic between these two characters carries sweetness and innocence that resonates strongly with most fans, despite the overt sexual overtones coming from Rose.
Fish are superior to cats and dogs in every way. I know you might disagree –– let me tell you why you’re wrong.
The reign of Fox’s Friday night animation line-up is over. For years, programs full of shallow writing and cop-out comedy have remained at the forefront of the adult animation community. Seth Macfarlane has been able to build an empire full of fart jokes, visual gags and lazy cultural references.
Film is universal. Every person, despite personal background, has the equal opportunity to gain inspiration from the films that they expose themselves to. Beneath the cover of a dim-lit theatre, we are all the same, hoping to undergo something at least a little bit magical.
Solutions by The State News
