We at The Miami Student are heartbroken over how everything has developed in the last week, but — as our staff prepares to transition leadership to a new editorial board and reflect on the last year at Miami — we have hope that good will come in the uncertain future.
Since nobody asked, for my last Miami Student column, I’ve decided to publish a list of things I’ve learned in my time at Miami University.
This may sound abrasive, but you are the reason you are so stressed out.
Fast fashion is killing a lot of things: the environment, our bank accounts and individual expression.
Being by myself felt like I was behind the game. It felt embarrassing. But I reminded myself that, in reality, every new student had the same anxieties I did and were too busy worrying about themselves to even think about what I was doing.
Tagalongs, Thin Mints, Samoas, Shortbread. Need I go on? I don’t think I do, because you already know I’m talking about the sensational and seasonal treats that grace our cabinets in the springtime. That’s right; Girl Scout Cookies.
It feels like a really long time since Megan Twohey and Jodi Kantor published the story that kicked off the investigation into Harvey Weinstein’s history of sexual abuse and, some argue, the revival of #MeToo.
Our staff wants Crawford to sign the PCLC’s climate commitment. Of the three commitments the PCLC offers, we believe the climate commitment would provide a plan that builds off of the efforts Miami has already made to ensure a long-term, holistic overhaul of sustainability on Miami’s campus.
On a Wednesday late last semester, I turned 22. I was standing on the dance floor of the Brick Street Bar and Grill, clutching an amaretto sour in one hand and a vodka-cran in the other while my friends cheered for the stroke of midnight that ushered in my 22nd year.
As a young woman, it feels as though you have to walk the fine line between being “basic,” or “hipster.” Both sides are heavily criticized — “basic” girls for being too mainstream and like everyone else, and “hipster” girls for being too weird or different. You really can’t win.
Last week, I was chatting with some friends about how I prefer not to celebrate Valentine’s Day. A few of my friends agreed with me that it’s become more about spending money and showing off and less about love, but most of my friends seemed shocked that I wasn’t going to do anything for my significant other on Friday. It isn’t just with my friends, but with my family, too. My grandparents send me annual Valentine’s Day cards. Even my mother said to me on a call, “Maybe you should think about doing something this year.” But why? Let’s start off with the obvious: Valentine’s Day is no longer wholly about love. Instead, it has turned into one of the most capitalistic, money-grubbing holidays of the year, outdone only by Black Friday, Christmas and (to some extent) Halloween. When one of the best things about a holiday is the sales during or after it, you’re not really celebrating the actual idea behind it.
I have to wonder if the writers of “The Office” knew what they were doing when they wrote their series finale. The easy answer here is that they obviously did; Google “the office finale” and you’ll find think piece after think piece about how perfectly NBC’s hit sitcom concluded. My actual question lies within a specific quote. Did the writing team know that “I wish there was a way to know you're in the good old days before you've actually left them” would wind up plaguing yearbooks and Instagram captions for (probably) decades to come? It’s a nice quote, and as someone whose self-admitted tragic flaw is sentimentality, I can see why fans of “The Office” cling to it like a treasured family heirloom.
I live in a house with three other oldest daughters, and it shows. Our house is always clean. We’ve mastered the art of domestic coziness, provide our younger friends a candlelit respite from their dorms and if someone is making a breakfast more elaborate than cereal or toast, they always cook for everyone. Rarely is one of us upset for more than 20 minutes before the others notice and sit them down to talk about their feelings or offer to bake them cookies. We are all currently, or have previously been, leaders of student organizations. Our families like to communicate their issues with each other through us. We are all stressed.
As I scrolled through my Twitter timeline last week, I noticed a lot of tweets about Billie Eilish, something not out of the ordinary for the past few months. After releasing her debut album in March 2019, Eilish quickly rose to fame. The hot topic trending on Twitter this time? Her first time at the Grammys. At the 62nd Grammy Awards on Jan. 26, Eilish was the star of the night, winning five of the six awards for which she was nominated. She became the youngest person to ever win Album of the Year and the second person (and first woman) to ever win the Big Four: Album of the Year, Song of the Year, Record of the Year and Best New Artist.
It was a night like any other. I had just finished washing my face and could still taste the mintiness of my toothpaste. I laid my head on my pillows and opened up my new favorite app — TikTok. Watching the short, comedic videos became a part of my nightly routine when I downloaded the app last semester. I get a sense of peace from ending my days with a lighthearted laugh. But, as I scrolled through the endless loop of videos on this particular night, I noticed a new trend that didn’t make me laugh. I watched TikTok after TikTok of teenagers sitting silently in their bedrooms while the song Ribs by Lorde played in the background.
In early December two years ago, I was waiting to hear back from the Office of Student Ethics and Conflict Resolution (OESCR) about the results of my sexual assault investigation. I reported an incident from my sophomore year. I didn’t know if reporting was the right thing to do, because while the incident met one of the standard definitions of sexual assault (“unwanted sexual” contact), it wasn’t rape. It took me awhile to realize maybe I had been assaulted, and much longer to stop hanging out with the guy I reported. But my friends and Title IX office employees assured me the incident was worth reporting, and I did. The guy was found “not responsible” of violating the Student Code of Conduct, meaning a panel of OESCR judges believed what happened was consensual.
Well, folks, we’re in the homestretch. Two more weeks until we can kiss this semester goodbye and ride off into the sunset toward holiday cheer and a little less homework. Our staff has been reflecting on the good, the bad and the ugly of this past semester, setting our sights on what we hope to improve come January. We’re drafting our New Year’s resolution, if you will. Going forward, we at The Miami Student hope to see the relationship between our reporters and Miami’s administration improve in hopes to increase transparency on our campus. But achieving this resolution starts with setting some common ground and erasing the idea that our staff is pushing an anti-administration agenda.
“You need to do some meditation and realize you have to let people care for you,” one of my housemates texted me recently. I dismissed it. See, I thought I had checked off personal growth on my to-do list months ago.