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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People have asked me, “Does it get better?” In a way, it does. You heal. Memories that once hurt become sad, then cherished. But it definitely doesn’t happen overnight. The hurt becomes healing. But even then, some days it’ll just hit you like it was yesterday.
Many — I’m inclined to say most — Penn students know little to nothing about queer and trans identities and the struggles we face. For those who do, the stories that are told are mostly representative of the G and the L in LGBTQIA, while little is known about bisexual, trans, intersex and asexual individuals.
Anything that veers too far from “normal” suddenly raises eyebrows. Having a thing for thigh-highs screams sexy, but having a thing for cheese signals perversion.
The groupwhine has become so pervasive on campus that we confuse it with true camaraderie, as if we were actually revealing deep insecurities to our friends.
I’m fairly certain if I met my celebrity idol Robert Downey Jr., he would shake my hand, sign the lunchbox I have with his face on it and then ask me, “So, Sara, what are your post-graduation plans?”
I understand people like the Wolf should not be idolized because it could encourage bad behavior, but there is no harm in admiring them for the entertainment value.
In this case, however, I didn’t have to. I photographed Jews, Christians and Muslims; tourists, citizens and people in between; Zionists and Pro-Palestinians; young students and grandparents.People wrote in Hebrew, English, Arabic, French, Farsi, Spanish, Romanian and Russian. All helped me convey a narrative, one that we called “An Israeli Collective.”
But like Snapchat and Facebook, Twitter is just a tool — and we decide what it’s used for. We can defame corporate giants and let policymakers know where we stand. Holding influential people accountable is one of the sexiest things you can do with your Twitter profile.
Most of these articles acknowledge that the conflict is “nuanced,” but after glossing over this point, they still try to cram their thoughts on a subject that spans almost 3,000 books in Van Pelt into half a newspaper page.
Just 12 percent of Penn students estimate that they come from a household making under 50,000 — less than the 13 percent who would estimate that their parents make over $450,000.
We’ve been less willing to look critically at aspects of Penn culture that create these social divisions and discuss actions we can all take to promote discussion about money at Penn.
After talking to Shipman, I have gleaned that the preparation offered by CURF is on par with what I received at Virginia — and Virginia has produced more than two and a half times the number of Rhodes Scholars than Penn has.
Rather, much like the UPennAlerts, these words function as figurative partitions, used to separate fictitious safety from danger, Penn from greater West Philadelphia, “the haves” from “the have-nots.”
In some ways, being at the bottom of the pole is a blessing. You can ask a million stupid questions and mess up, but it’s OK. The worst you’ll get is, “Silly freshman.”
Throughout the last four months, I have been fed, driven, housed, paid for and taken care of by the people of Israel, lending real meaning to the idea of people who “would give you the shirt off their back.”
In other words, through our viewership — which is a market signal — and the revenue it generates, we drive and make possible these wonderful acts of charity.