Leave it to public urination and a disbanded game of Wiffle ball to bring Wash. U. students and University City residents to loggerheads. University City’s “zero-tolerance policy” has become the flavor of the month in this area of St. Louis, and our ordinarily easy-going campus is abuzz with accusations of profiling and police abuses.
Every semester, my backpack surprises my classmates. No, it’s not high-tech, excessively large or hot pink. I have a mesh backpack, and apparently very few students at Wash. U. are accustomed to seeing one. Of course, having had a mesh backpack for most of my life, I think it’s pretty weird for me to see so many students carrying opaque bags.
What does it mean to be a Wash. U. student? After two years in college, I feel compelled to confront myself with this question. Perhaps I need this space to let my thoughts flow; perhaps I crave a more specific identity. But I also think that with pre-frosh about to descend upon campus in droves, it helps to take a look at what would make them like us. So, in what ways are Wash. U. students similar? Knowledgeable: Well…
There needs to be a willingness among people of every faith to sit with someone of a different religion and listen. I am going to be skeptical and assume you’ve never opened the Khordeh Avesta. Heck, you’ve probably never even heard of Zoroastrianism’s book of common prayers.
In the elections just before spring break, nearly three-fourths of voting students approved the creation of the Diversity Affairs Council as a way to organize and administer diversity initiatives at Wash. U. To be honest, I had and continue to have doubts about the DAC, partly because of doubts that the council can be effective in influencing University policy regarding admissions and faculty hiring (I hope I’m proven wrong).
Spring break is typically fun, or relaxing, or just not long enough. Spring break isn’t typically inspiring, but mine was. I spent my break shadowing various arms of Great Circle, a collection of local social-work organizations devoted to educating and assisting children and families. After the first day, I was overwhelmed. By what? Partly by the new faces and names, partly by the extensive terminology of social work.
I’ve supported health care reform for the duration of its time in the political limelight. I realize Americans are divided, but I’d challenge anyone who suggests no changes are needed to the U.S. health care system. Insurance costs are too high and insurance practices too ruthless to go unchallenged.
One thing I’ve discovered in college is my passion for food. For years I cooked with my mom on Saturday mornings; those experiences became invaluable this summer, as I found myself cooking in my apartment, mixing and matching meats and veggies and spices. My fondness for food makes me wish Wash. U. offered a culinary arts program.
One day in math class, my professor posed a not-too-easy question. He called on someone, who gave a reasonable answer. I raised my hand and gave a different one. Turns out, I was wrong. It certainly was not the first time I had been wrong, nor will it be the last. Such inevitable moments keep us humble and let us learn; our lives as students would be less entertaining without the occasional incorrect response.
Dear Top Care employees, Thank you. That’s probably not something you hear very often. Wash. U. students are a courteous and talkative bunch, but we typically don’t take the time to thank complete strangers. Strangers you unfortunately are—a group of nameless men and women (mostly men). Maybe you should wear name tags like Bon Appétit […]