34th Street Magazine's "Toast" is a semi-weekly newsletter with the latest on Penn's campus culture and arts scene. Delivered Monday-Wednesday-Friday.
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As a sophomore studying computer science, I am not the first person to acknowledge that the coursework of the School of Engineering and Applied Science is difficult.
As a kid growing up, my parents gave me a daily allowance of what we then called “screen time.” At first 30 minutes, later extended to an hour, this was the single portion of the day when I was allowed to watch TV or use our family’s single computer — my Dad’s office desktop.
A life is not lived with the intention to fill a resume, nor are we meant to weigh experience solely in terms of professional application. When we commit ourselves to our work as so many of us have, it is easy to forget the importance of hobbies, casual interests and fantasies.
It is clear throughout that Strayed is not particularly concerned with the protection of the world responsible for her healing. This anthropocentrism, a view that humankind is at the center of all existence, helps fuel an attitude that condones the continual recreational use of natural spaces without commitment to their preservation.
It's difficult to separate art from artist. In our culture, the artist is more than just a person — they are an institution, a myth, a force of nature. We see the artist as a vessel through which the creative force manifests. And so we arrive at ridiculous and irreconcilable paradoxes — how can John Lennon be both a champion of peace and a wife-beater?
As I began reading submissions, collecting essays and conversing over coffees, I observed that love had a profoundly underrepresented relationship to mental health. So many of our writers felt compelled to talk about their romantic experiences, yet simultaneously awkward about it. Their experiences couldn't be mental health issues; they were just being emotional.
Instead of telling my sister to follow a plan into her future, I want her to know that there’s no honor in sticking with the wrong decision just because it’s the one you made first. You can always change your mind. You can always say no. You can always admit you were wrong, turn back and throw out every map you drew for yourself. And sometimes, you should.
When I read that Kate Bolick’s book “Spinster: Making a Life of One’s Own” was akin to Betty Friedan’s “Feminine Mystique” in its transformational and generation-defining significance, I immediately picked up a copy. Unfortunately, I was immediately disappointed.
It does not follow that UPenn Alerts adds and accommodates 24,806 students during the fall and spring semesters, yet cannot accommodate a much smaller group that attends classes and works during summer. Why can’t a system which allows staff and faculty to opt out of receiving the messages do the same for students? How is it that a system whose technology doesn’t allow students to opt in conveniently allows a single student from the SP to be added?
It seems that the only successful way to profit off this new paradigm is the “freemium” model, in which you have the option to pay for quality. It’s a natural solution which allows customers to pay what they want. But for this model to be successful and to change what the value of music is, we need to have a discussion about what the value of music should be.
In my experience, however, I have found that the true emotional tolls of hook-up culture are understated. So often the committed relationship is portrayed as too draining on the psyche, yet “playing the game” requires an emotional investment just the same.
The Fourth of July, and what it commemorates, serves as a reminder that laws without morals are useless, that unjust rules should be fought. In the midst of the ongoing arguments over the country’s founding principles, the long-held definition of marriage, the heritage represented by the Confederate flag and the best way to move forward as a nation, that idea is something we must hold onto.