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Sitting down amongst hundreds of students, I nudged a friend beside me and attempted to inconspicuously whisper, “The accents of the people in this movie are so familiar!” We were at a plenary session for the Global Village Houses in Jameson, part of the Douglass Residential College. It was a screening of the film “Six Days: Three Activists, Three Wars, One Dream.” The movie traced a day in the life of three human rights defenders thousands of miles apart, and I had guessed the African activist was from Liberia. English appeared to be the primary language of the people. Everyone spoke it, and they spoke it excellently — and while many African countries are deft in the English language, it was the accent that grabbed me. Thick and distinct, it resonated. Also, what other African country spoke like this and had faced a war in the recent decades? It must be Liberia.
This month, I have the privilege of celebrating Hispanic Heritage Month alongside 90 strong, intelligent and resilient eighth graders. Together we’ll reflect on our past, reading works by Sandra Cisneros, Julia Alvarez, Junot Díaz and others. Through these talented writers, we will examine and share stories about our background and what it means to be Latino. We’ll be looking toward the future of Latinos in the country as we look at the lives of women like Sonia Sotomayor, while also discussing our own plans and goals for the future.
Margarita Rosario’s column titled “Hamas is not ISIS, ISIS is not Hamas: UN speech misleading” does not offer insight to what the title suggests. Indeed, there are similarities and differences between Hamas and ISIS worth consideration, yet her writing consists of ill-founded, poorly researched arguments and false information regarding the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.
On Tuesday night, I attended an event hosted by the Rutgers Hillel Center for Israel Engagement called “Debunking Myths About the Middle East: Examining Human Rights Violations Against Minorities in the Islamist World.” The talk, attended by a standing-room-only crowd of Jews, Muslims and other Rutgers students, was given by two women: human rights attorney, author and award-winning filmmaker Brooke Goldstein and physician, author and human rights activist Dr. Qanta Ahmed.
On Tuesday, Sept. 30, Rutgers University Hillel hosted an event called “Examining Human Rights Violations Against Minorities in the Islamist World: From Hamas in Gaza to IS in Iraq and Syria,” featuring none other than Brooke Goldstein, a known bigot who has made many ridiculous claims. But before we get into Goldstein’s background, let us first discuss the sheer error in the very premise of the event.
Look no further than the Ferguson riots to comprehend why police departments around the country should possess surplus military equipment. This past August, the town of Ferguson, Missouri, was the subject of national news following the police shooting of unarmed suspect Michael Brown. Immediately after this incident, angered citizens took to the streets to protest in Ferguson and throughout the United States. These protesters assumed the guilt of the officer involved, even though our legal system is hinged upon the notion that individuals are innocent until proven guilty.
I was kicked out of a career fair this week. I don’t think I’ve gotten kicked out of anything in my life up until this point, and it’s certainly not something I’d like to repeat. But there I was, at the “Rutgers Business Analytics and Information Technology Career Fair,” standing in front of two event organizers who made it clear that I had to go. They told me that this event had a strict dress code and that my refusal to adhere to said dress code “made [them] look bad.”
In the multi-billion dollar enterprise that is the NFL, morals are defined not by right and wrong, but by the dollar signs that cement its legacy. The supremacy that it holds might be to akin to that of the Titanic in that it is considered “too big to fail.” The late afternoons of guzzling down beverages of choice, dunking nachos and adjusting your fantasy football roster while watching your favorite players duke it out gladiator style has evolved past being a culture into more of a necessity. Even if the love of your life has abandoned you, or even if the prospects of getting a job in the economy have dwindled into oblivion, you can always find solace in the fact that your favorite team’s banners will shine brightly that upcoming Sunday morning. It is an all-encompassing sport that has captured the heart of America and the man that stands before the glorious empire might in fact be the most powerful man in all of sports.
I’m writing in response to Dan Munoz’s Sept. 4 column titled “Nostalgia keeps grease trucks alive.” As the long-time owner of the premier grease truck RU Hungry? and the person responsible for making Rutgers University grease trucks a nationally recognized icon, I would like to weigh in with my opinion. Suggesting that our business continues to operate simply due to “nostalgia” or better yet, an “appeal to tradition” is to suggest we exist simply due to what we were and what we offered 30 years ago.
The Targum recently published a thought provoking commentary about battling individual racism against African Americans, written by Yvanna Saint-Fort, a self-identified black woman. As a Latino American myself, and having grown up in a community overflowing with other Latino and African Americans, I sympathize with her.
On Sunday, Sept. 21, the world’s largest climate change march to date is scheduled to take place in New York City. “The People’s Climate March,” as it is known, hopes to draw attention to the issue of climate change to world leaders at the upcoming United Nations summit by showing them that climate change is no longer an issue that can merely be put on the backburner. Framing the march as “the people’s” was a smart move on the part of the organizers, emphasizing that this is an issue that requires the attention of all people from all walks of life and corners of the globe.
It was a Thursday evening, and I was on a train coming from New York City heading back to New Brunswick. This Thursday in particular was the 13th anniversary of September 11.
If you ask any of my friends what I was like for the week before the Penn State-Rutgers game, they would surely tell you that I was a mess. I was constantly reading articles, making predictions or just yelling with excitement and nerves. As a Penn State alumna, a huge football fan and a current Rutgers graduate student, I had a serious vested interest in this game. Not to mention that since it was announced that Rutgers would join the Big Ten Conference, I had been smack talking and trying to explain what a real football school is like. I really needed the Penn State team to back me up.
Hey ya’ll. Jamie here, co-founder of Trans*missions and opinionated Rutgers graduate. Just because I graduated this past May doesn’t mean I’ve left for good. Rutgers has been home to me. As a New Brunswick native, Rutgers has always been an integral part of my day-to-day life. As a child, my mother, a 26-year Rutgers employee, used to parade her favorite little daughter around campus when summer camp let out early. She would show me off to her coworkers, brag about my soccer skills and occasionally let me sneak into the Cove arcade on Busch campus. I would play some of the games while my mom lifted heavy packages and filled mailboxes — the retro ones with a gold-tinted key. Things have changed at Rutgers since those days — lots of things. Those gold-tinted mailboxes are gone. Now they have a locker system that magically opens at the touch of a button, and then voila! There’s your Amazon package! (It’s not digital-aged magic by the way: My mom puts them there). Oh, and something else has changed at Rutgers since I was that little kid in the Cove. What I didn’t know back then was that nearly a decade later, I would go to Rutgers, just as my mom said I would, and I would become one of the leaders of the transgender movement at the University, co-founding Trans*missions, Rutgers’ first-ever transgender organization. That little Cove-dwelling girl would later transition and become a son rather than a daughter.
The NFL is huge. The Buffalo Bills just sold for $1.4 billion dollars despite that it hasn’t been to the playoffs in 15 years and isn’t even in the top fifty markets in the United States.
In light of yesterday’s release of a video showing Ray Rice knocking his then-fiancée Janay Palmer out cold, it is time for Scarlet Knight Athletics to cut its ties with Rice and remove him from Rutgers football history. For starters, remove Rice from the pre-game video showing RU alums currently playing in the NFL.
A wise fortune cookie once told me, “You’re aging rapidly in college.” I am a young, convivial and delicate soul who is 42 years old at heart and refuses to age. From a naïve kid’s standpoint, I was totally devastated to learn such hilariously unfortunate news from a fortune cookie.
It is the burden of abject identities to remain silent. Three years of college has taught me that courage is not gained through age or experience, but with the social amenities that one is allowed and that one takes. Too often do I hear stories about in-class anxiety, usually with the pretext that one is not smart enough, or would be embarrassed if she or he spoke up in class or that their professor would find their point so obscenely inept. In-class anxiety is a huge problem, but it is its prevalence among systematically oppressed populations that concerns me. If it was the case that all students felt discomfort upon speaking up, so that the thought of raising one’s hand would induce goosebumps and the act of speech itself would result in incredible distress, then our problem would be a much different one.
Bioethics: Perhaps you have heard the term and know what it means, maybe you have heard it but are not exactly sure what it means, or perhaps you have never heard the phrase. Even though I have been interested in bioethics for quite some time, I have realized only recently that the majority of people fall into the latter two categories — and for a good reason. I first became interested in bioethics during the genetics unit of my biology class. The concept of manipulating the genetic makeup of organisms was fascinating to me, and when we briefly covered the Human Genome Project in class, I knew I wanted to know more. Only when I actually tried to search for information on my own did I realize how inaccessible it actually is. Not only were there not many articles about the ramifications of genetic manipulation, but the ones that did exist were written in a way that was not friendly for general audiences. My column, “Under the Microscope,” seeks to solve this problem by making the ethical issues that arise from scientific and medical advancement comprehensible and (hopefully) interesting to the average Joe.
The Virgin Mary contorts as if she were taking horrible, staggered breaths — pulsating with each angry movement that Pierre makes as he wrestles with my dead landline.