Nearly everyone is now familiar with the events that transpired on Tuesday, January 21: Professor Shaheen Borna called the police on a Black student, Sultan "Mufasa" Benson, who declined to switch seats in the middle of class.
I know it’s hard to quit a bad habit cold turkey, but when you go to get your grande iced caramel macchiato tomorrow morning, ask yourself if you need a plastic straw or if you can pick up a wooden stir stick and use it for its intended purpose, hence the name.
As the world pushes for advancements to replace our everyday single-use products, big corporations might be taking the easy way out.
As a college student, I should not have to deal with the economic fallout from another war, a potential war with Iran, and neither should anybody else — not to mention the fact that war is immoral.
My name is Zahria Hart, and I am black and I am proud.
Catcalling is a lot more than just a few derogatory words. It’s a way for harassers to test the waters — to see how far they can go before there are repercussions.
When I was born in the year 1997, the United States was already involved in multiple combat zones around the world.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I love being a man, and I’m not ashamed to be one. I am ashamed, though, of the way society has pushed men toward false ideas about emotions, mental health and acceptable behavior.
Here are seven things I learned while dealing with a concussion that will hopefully help you avoid the mistakes I made.
We all remember waking up our parents up at 7 a.m. Christmas morning to run down the stairs and see the presents Santa Claus left under the tree. My family traditionally would wake up, eat muffins and bacon and open gifts. After opening all of the presents, we would get dressed and head down to southern Indiana to see our extended family. We would always spend the night at the Holiday Inn in Columbus, Indiana. Why? Simply because it’s a tradition.
Every morning, I chuck numerous tops onto my bed because they just aren’t quite what I want to wear that day. I rummage through my overflowing closet until I finally find the top — the one that makes me feel unstoppable and the only one that matches my mood for the day. I walk out of my room, feeling satisfied knowing that I’m wearing my ideal outfit for the day and that I won’t be overthinking it. All of that comes to a halt when I feel it.
A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, the world was introduced to the absolute cutest thing anyone could ever see. You guessed it: It’s Baby Yoda.
As someone who gets drained from any human interaction, regardless of how much I enjoy it, filler talk used simply for the gratification of hearing yourself talk or just to fill what you think is an awkward void is exhausting.
Waking up to the smell of meat and potatoes has to be every American’s dream. I guess I’m truly just unpatriotic because I don’t like — no, I despise — Thanksgiving. It’s just one more day until Christmas, honestly. It just so happens we celebrate it by overeating, napping and watching TV surrounded by our relatives we usually can’t wait to kick out of the house. Thanksgiving just isn’t that great. And before you attack me, just listen.
When Forever 21 announced it was filing for bankruptcy, my immediate thought was, “Well, I guess they were only Temporarily 21.” After I laughed at my own joke, however, I realized just how hard it was going to be for me to buy clothes from here on out.
People watch their favorite movie more than once, attend more than one sporting event to support their favorite team and visit the same city multiple times because it makes them happy. So, why is it wrong for me to want to see my favorite musician more than once for the same reasons?
That moment when the filler music before a show stops, and you know it’s show time. The venue lights go down, the screams rise, the intro music to the first song begins … and there they are: one of your favorite artists, if not your favorite, in the flesh. The artist or band that has lifted your spirits, quenched your bad moods and had you bopping from day one is directly in front of you.
On Sept. 26, my oldest sister Krystyn called and told me she and our parents were at the hospital. My other sister Jessica had been shot during a home invasion.
Inner conflict. We all have it. For some, it’s as simple as whether or not to help an elderly person across the street. For me, though, inner conflict stems from something that keeps me up at night: Do I actually like iceberg lettuce?
