This weekend, along with the rest of the Tufts-in-Paris program, I boarded an early-morning train from Paris’ Gare Montparnasse and set off toward Bordeaux, a city in the southwest of France and a part of the country’s Aquitaine region.
Perusing through stores like H&M and Forever 21, it’s difficult not to be struck by how affordable clothing has become and to wonder how clothing companies, especially those known as fast-fashion brands, can peddle clothing so cheaply. Most people are aware of the textile industry’s connections to child labor and worker exploitation in developing nations, but it is also important to address the industry’s heavy contribution to our worsening environmental crisis.
My mother was not happy about my last column’s raw egg-eating revelation. Immediately after I sent her the link, I received a text reading “Girl!” (my mom texts like she just stepped off the set of “Clueless”), “This is not how I raised you! What were you thinking!” I countered with some salient points about my current aliveness and frequent consumption of raw cookie dough and received a trio of spiral-eye emojis in response. So, in an effort to please the payer of my tuition, this week I will set aside the poaching and make an attempt with my old standby, the electric kettle.
Boston and its surrounding cities are beautiful places. One thing decidedly not beautiful is the litter that mars the woods and streets throughout Greater Boston. Unfortunately, I have, at times, seen a similar scene on campus. Though Tufts facilities might clean up litter occasionally, the responsibility for keeping our campus beautiful is a community-wide one. Littering is a serious problem in the U.S.;in a national litter study done by Keep America Beautiful in 2020, it was determined that there were “nearly 50 billion pieces of litter along U.S. roadways and waterways” throughout the country. That equates to 152 items of litter for every person in the United States per year.
This week, rumors flew around Tufts’ campus. Everyone could feel a disturbance in the plumbing as someone of great import was touring our bathrooms. Senator Elizabeth Warren, D-MA, was hanging out in the Campus Center trying to make new friends. In that process, she probably ended up using at least one of the Campus Center’s many bathrooms. In the wake of this monumental occasion, I chose to take on what are likely to be some of the most trafficked facilities at Tufts University — the Mayer Campus Center bathrooms. Specifically, I will attempt to tackle both the Hotung bathrooms and the all-gender bathroom.
We’re lucky enough to be offered discounted T passes through the university, so if you want to have unrestricted access to the T for a semester, I’d encourage you to check that out. However, you might want to make sure you ride the T enough to justify the price tag.
As cannabis legalization continues its march across the country and investment in legal cannabis continues to grow, many previously veiled aspects of cannabis cultivation have come to light, including a surprisingly damaging environmental cost. High water and energy usage, pesticides and fertilizer poisoning, degradation of public lands and potential ozone effects have all been linked to cannabis cultivation.
Most Tufts students probably haven’t been in Dowling Hall since their campus-touring days in high school. Others visit frequently to pick up the newest copy of JUMBO Magazine. Whichever camp you fall into, Dowling Hall’s bathrooms are indubitably the gateway into Tufts lavatories.
In recent marketing and advertising trends, there has been a shift from high production value to an intentionally unpolished bid for authenticity. Ads have become sponsored hauls: an ordinary girl following the familiar template and vernacular of another haul video, seemingly devoid of a secondary motive to sell you a product, or a Twitter screenshot posted on Instagram captioned with “I’M DYING” or “THIS IS SO CUTE,” followed by pictures of some trendy piece of jewelry.In the caption is a much too convenient link to the item and a sheepish #ad hiding in the corner.
Last week had a lot of transit news, and a lot of it was pretty good even! Notably, we got the first branch of the Green Line Extension, and the MBTA released their brand spankin’ new five-year capital investment plan. The plan itself showed promise, even though it frustratingly still has no real concrete plan for converting the commuter rail into an electrified regional rail network.
“During my moving day as a freshman, I remember walking up the stairs and catching a glimpse of who I know today as my husband. As soon as our eyes met, I knew he was the person I was going to spend the rest of my life with,” my cousin said. Almost everyone has heard a passionate and cheesy story about someone who met the love of their life in college. Whether it described the fascinating, first eye contact they made with their future significant other across the foyer or the accidental cliché bump into their soulmate while grabbing food at the dining hall, the notion of meeting ‘the one’ in college has been around for years.
Of the 92.9 quadrillion British thermal units of energy consumed by the U.S. in 2020, 62.3 quads were considered “rejected energy” by the Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory. This means that more than two-thirds of the energy consumed in the U.S. in 2020 was released into the environment — mostly as heat — and provided no economic or societal benefit at all. In other words, over two-thirds of all energy consumed in 2020 was wasted. This waste comes from inefficiencies in technology that allow energy to be lost as heat while converting one form of energy into another or while running technology.
If you read the Boston Globe, you might have come across this article on Monday about what the T could have been. The crux of it centers on a map published by the paper in April 1947 showcasing planners’ proposals for an expansion of Boston’s T network. Looking at it now, knowing that so little of this has actually come to be, is a little bit heartbreaking.
I happen to be a firm believer in the idea that you can enjoy things that are criticized, and that it’s kind of impossible to not enjoy things that are criticized. Everyone has skeletons in their closets as well as mistakes they made when they were young and ignorant, so I believe in forgiving but not necessarily forgetting. This is why I can enjoy K-pop, despite the not-so-cool parts of it.
Since the end of the Second World War, Japan has been a secondary power unwilling to exert the hard power associated with great power status, with a constitution “[renouncing] war as a sovereign right of the nation.” However, after this recent period of military isolationism characterized by the Yoshida doctrine — which passed responsibility for Japanese security policy to the U.S. — Japan is primed to enter another expansionist phase, although the form, extent and characteristics of this expansionism have not yet been settled.
The influence of Meryl Streep is far-reaching, with her performances fundamentally changing the field of acting. Thus, to focus on just one or two of Streep’s performances as encompassing of her talents would be an exercise in futility. Rather, one must consider the sheer glut of content. So, for this week, let’s go back in time and do a decade-by-decade analysis of what makes up a Streep performance.
The global population is rapidly approaching eight billion people. This growth necessitates increases in food production, resource extraction and overall consumption, putting a strain on remaining wildlife habitat. Oftentimes, our most precious refuges of biodiversity are left to the protection of impoverished local communities, raising the question: Who should bear the burdens of conservation efforts? Who should reap the benefits: locals or predominantly western conservationists?
Country clubs have long been criticized for their elitism and exclusivity; in light of our planet’s environmental crisis, I would argue that they are also damningly wasteful, both in terms of resources consumed and environmental impact.
Stemming from my New Year’s resolution to practice more empathy and, partly inspired by the protagonist of Elaine Hsieh Chou’s “Disorientation” (2022) — who abstains from the act because “She [i]sn’t a Republican!”— is my intent to stop kink-shaming. Regardless of your political affiliation, I hope this column can convince you to join me in this endeavor. My broader aim, though, is twofold: one, to dismantle the concept of “guilty pleasures” and explore why we shouldn't be ashamed of the things that bring us joy and to advocate for the small and oft overlooked innocent pleasures that can add light to our lives if we know to let them.
In my last column, I talked about the role that community, and the actions of each individual within that community, plays on sustainability. I also asked you to think about how you can make a difference every day in our community through your own actions. With that in mind, let’s look at sustainability.
