As many regular Collegian readers know, there has recently been an ongoing online debate surrounding an article written two weeks ago by Zak Kozuchowski, titled "New business program for men upsets some women." What started off as ye olde "You're unfair," "No, you're unfair!" debate turned to what I thought was a more interesting dilemma -- is a separation between two groups ever beneficial, or is it always inherently detrimental to one or both groups? There are various examples to defend both sides, which makes answering complicated. One could use sports teams as an example of how separation breeds a healthy competition for each respective team. One could also use the Lakeview separations as beneficial to people with separate interests from one another, or separations between age groups on the school bus as beneficial to conversational tactics of each respective age (i.e.
My mom recently went to see the new documentary film, "Race to Nowhere." She has been running around recommending it to everyone, in part because she is a teacher at a middle school, but mostly because, in her own words: "I watched it and just kept thinking to myself, 'This is about my children.
An anonymous University of Richmond student -- who could have been either male or female -- started a posting thread on College ACB with a description of tasks that men pledging a campus fraternity were required to do before being initiated.
Growing up, I didn't miss doctor's appointments. My mother made sure that I had a yearly physical with my pediatrician, that I saw a dentist every six months and anything strange or symptomatic was immediately looked into. Though I may have complained, I had no doubts about my health. Come college, I can't say the same.
On Jan. 9, 19 people were shot in Tucson, Ariz. Six people were killed, one of whom was federal Justice John Roll and one of whom was a nine-year-old girl named Christina Taylor. Thirteen more were injured, one of whom was Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords (representative of the 8th District of Arizona), who was shot point-blank in the head by 22-year-old Jared Loughner and somehow, miraculously, survived. I was required to read as many articles as possible on this issue for a class I am currently taking. It was the first time in a while that I have gone to the trouble of gaining a well-rounded perspective on an issue. I knew that a single media source rarely is a reliable account when trusted by itself, but my hesitant attitude toward doing unrequired research stopped me from putting in the effort I should have. I read a variety of articles on the Arizona shooting.
When I was seven or eight years old, I told on my younger sister for calling me names. I can't remember what the names were now, but whatever they were didn't carry enough magnitude to save me from hitting up the time-out chair for three valuable minutes of my life. Ironic that I should get in trouble for telling, but from my tattletale my mother gauged that I had smacked my younger sister in response, and this was the bigger "no-no." I asked her what made my particular crime the more heinous, and she responded with a phrase I would immediately internalize for the next decade of my life: "Because, Fiona, sticks and stones can break your bones, but names can never hurt you!" This is a phrase that many of us have heard and internalized during our early years, whether it be from a family member, a teacher, a rhyme book, a movie or my big man Barney himself. It's widely accepted as a catchy little teaching device, and it serves some children well for a time by hardening an otherwise sensitive and vulnerable exterior. The problem with it is that it isn't true.