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On March 3, 2019, The Forum published an article titled “I’m Dating My FYG, and that’s OK.” I question how much the rest of our community can learn from this example. While I cannot speak to the dynamics of the author’s relationship—only she knows her own truth—it would be a disservice to the community not to acknowledge the other side of the story: power-imbalanced relationships that have made my peers’ and my experience at CMC worse. The author’s relationship is the exception, not the rule. Readers who became more sympathetic to power-imbalanced relationships after reading the article should consider other examples. While those provided below are not FYG-FYGlet relationships, the author’s concession that “FYGs truthfully do hold a certain amount of power over their FYGlets” indicates a need to explore the dynamics of power-imbalanced relationships more broadly. During her freshman fall, my friend was secretly involved with a senior. He was a leader of a club she had joined. Her experiences, and our discussions about them, have informed my understanding of this issue. Having begun the relationship the day the club began to meet, she felt she could not bond with any other members for fear of them discovering their secret. Even when the relationship ended, she felt uncomfortable and isolated in the club. She considered quitting even though she wanted to stay for every other reason. Every time he made a decision that affected her she wondered whether it was targeted. She could never be sure that he was or wasn’t abusing his power over her. She could not go to other club leaders. She could not ask that decisions about her role in the club be made without his input; asking for assurance of fair treatment would require an explanation of such an inappropriate relationship. She feared the reaction of people who had the power to fire her, not knowing whether they actually would be malicious enough to do so. Even if my friend’s former partner “never held his position [...] over” her, as the author says of her boyfriend, the mere threat that he could was paralyzing. Power-imbalanced relationships do not require villains in order to harm those lacking power. She was hurt by a power imbalance that could be used against her even if it wasn’t. She is not the only one. I was also involved with a senior in my freshman year. She held influential positions in multiple on-campus organizations that I was and am a part of, and she even hired me to a club she founded within the same week we started dating. Despite the obvious age and professional imbalances in our relationship, no one thought twice about it. No one wondered whether the assumed, cute image of getting to know each other over long nights at club meetings might have actually meant using power to hasten a flirtatious attraction into a long-term relationship. No one wondered whether my excitement to work under her at these organizations was motivated by my fear of her simultaneous control over my professional and romantic life. Few asked why I started to see my other friends less; fewer still reached out about whether I was OK; none found out that she was verbally and emotionally abusing me. Every time I have told another CMCer about my ex-girlfriend, I have noticed myself couching my language in external validation: “A psychologist said she was abusive.” This statement, while factually true, should not be necessary. Her actions were wrong because of how they affected me, not because of how an expert described them. Yet, I know that in our community, an organization leader dating an inferior is considered par for the course, a mindset that a title such as “I’m Dating My FYG, and That’s OK” reinforces. And so, when I express that I was in a similar relationship that was anything but OK, I always implicitly pled, “believe me, not because our community tends to believe people in my position, but because a psychologist said my feelings were real.” These stories—our stories—are not told as often or as publicly as ones about cute relationships. But that does not make them less important. Normalizing power-imbalanced relationships is dangerous to those who someday might be in one. Editor’s Note: We decided to run this op-ed anonymously due to its private and personal nature. We hope that it fosters genuine discussion of relationship health on college campuses.

A First Year Guide has the potential to be one of the most important sources of mentorship for a CMC first year student. They lead first years throughout their Week of Orientation Adventures (WOA) trips, and then continue to serve as mentors in the year to come. Within that capacity, a FYG should provide a non-threatening and open environment for first years. A FYG should be a confidant for a first year, someone they trust without question. So what happens if this mentor-mentee relationship turns romantic? Well, a number of things can take place, but controversy will always be at the center. I’m not going to kid myself and pretend that dating my FYG, who I have been with for over a year now, didn’t cause waves of gossiping across campus or anything of that matter. In the grand scheme of CMC, my relationship is very insignificant. However, it is of course quite significant to me. A large portion of our relationship in my freshman year centered around Nick being my FYG. As a first year student, I was still meeting an abundance of new faces throughout my first semester at CMC. If that first conversation happened to move to a story involving Nick, I was oftentimes met with a surprised, “Oh, you’re dating Nick Pibl? Wait, was he your FYG? I was wondering who the FYG-FYGlet couple was!” While this reaction always brought a smile (and usually a blush) to my face, it also confused me. Was it really being circulated that there was a FYG-FYGlet couple? Why was the most defining aspect of my relationship a four day long trip to the beach? Now don’t get me wrong, orientation and being a FYG entails much more than just a WOA trip, something I now know well as a FYG myself. But people seemed to assume that Nick being my FYG comprised a central component of our relationship. To me, it couldn’t be less important. While I understand the scandal of a FYG dating a FYGlet, Nick was only my FYG in my mind for maybe two weeks, if that. Then he was the nice sophomore who walked me to class on my first day. Soon after he was my weekly study partner before our Thursday quizzes. Eventually he was the cute guy I ate breakfast with on Thursdays before class, and finally, he was my boyfriend. After months of getting to know him, orientation felt like it happened a million years ago, and he was just Nick, no FYG title in sight. Even so, I remember when we first started dating, I wondered if I should tell people or not. My WOAmies ended up finding out slowly over time, and while some of them seemed genuinely happy for us, others seemed understandably weirded out. We didn’t start dating until after the socially mandatory Fall Break mark, but it still was a hard pill to swallow for some of our WOA group. I didn’t really understand why until becoming a FYG myself. When I now imagine one of my co-FYGs dating one of my FYGlets, it’s a little bit uncomfortable. Even though I no longer see them as brand new students in need of guidance, I still feel a certain level of protectiveness over my FYGlets. The idea of someone with an arguable position of power over them then dating them makes me a little bit uneasy. FYGs are the first faces that first years see when they arrive on campus; they shape the first years’ expectations and can either alleviate or exacerbate their fears. To this day I hear friends of mine complain about having a bad FYG, so the lasting impact a FYG can have is clear. But it isn’t a FYG’s job to be that go-to person for every one of their FYGlets. Usually a FYGlet will closely bond with only one FYG. Nick wasn’t that go-to person for me as a first year. He is now, but I ended up asking my other FYG about which Calc professor they recommended during my first year. Even though Nick and I worked out, I still would recommend caution before jumping into a relationship with your FYG or FYGlet. I would also recommend caution to people watching their friends forming one of these relationships. This is because there is good reason to be skeptical in these situations. First year students could easily be exploited because the first year— and especially first semester— of college is a vulnerable time for people in which FYGlets are encouraged to trust their FYGs. This trust gives room for exploitation, and while I’d like to think none of CMC’s FYGs would ever take advantage of their FYGlets, a little caution never hurt anyone. Signs to look out for in these relationships would include the FYG being embarrassed to have a relationship with the FYGlet. Reluctance to make the relationship public reinforces an unbalanced power dynamic and also indicates there is something to hide. Another sign might be the first year increasingly pulling away from their friends, especially when asked about the relationship. The first year of college is especially important for building friendships, so the relationship taking precedence could indicate an unhealthy power dynamic that could become increasingly problematic. These relationships can look similar to those between seniors and first year students, where the difference in age and maturity can make people uncomfortable. This discomfort can also extend even further in FYG/FYGlet relationships between upperclassmen and first years. These situations can be avoided through knowing without a shadow of a doubt the intentions of a FYG before getting into a relationship with them. So what about the power dynamic between Nick and me? FYGs truthfully do hold a certain amount of power over their FYGlets. There’s a possibility for this power to be abused— but that isn’t always the case. Never once did I feel like the lure of an older boy in a position of authority led me to want to be with him. If anything, it annoyed me that it added a supposed layer of complexity to us dating. I have never felt like we were anything other than equals. He never held his position as my FYG over me, but even so I questioned if it should be public knowledge or not. I hesitated to answer when my family members asked how we met, and I definitely wondered whether or not to tell my own FYGlets. I didn’t want them to think that I didn’t take my role as their FYG seriously. I’m grateful Nick was my FYG. It allowed me to hear an honest perspective about what being a FYG is like, and to decide for myself that yes, it would be worth it. But we’re not together because he was my FYG: it feels more like I’m dating him despite the fact he was my FYG. The stigma surrounding FYG-FYGlet relationships on CMC’s campus can definitely complicate the first few months of a relationship. Part of me is glad people squirm a bit at the idea of a FYG and FYGlet dating because it attests to the fact that CMC takes the FYG role very seriously, as we should. But I also ask that CMCers keep in mind that these couples are real people. Despite all the confusion, there is not an official rule against FYGs and FYGlets dating; and thank goodness, because I definitely would’ve broken it.

'Gesamtkunstwerk,' a term inspired by the German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer, refers to the total embodiment of dynamic human experience in a singular body of art. While applying to all mediums, including architecture and film, the term is predominantly associated with classical music. Richard Wagner, an influential proponent of this theory, espoused the virtues of traditional composition; to him, music represented the highest form of emotional expression. However, the role of classical composition in everyday life has dramatically shifted since the 19th century. Today, enthusiastic consumption of classical music is often associated with a niche artistic elitism. With the advent and subsequent popularization of modern genres such as the blues and rock and roll, cultural emphasis on classical musical has markedly subsided; how often do we turn on Tchaikovsky at a social gathering? Due to both a lack of lyrics and a perceived no-fuss simplicity, classical music is often relegated to stimulating study and/or sleep habits. While we extol its health benefits, including lower blood pressure and boosted levels of creativity, most people passively listen to classical music, if at all (as I write this article, Tchaikovsky is stirring quietly in the background). I say this in part because I am guilty of this myself; I claim to love classical music but seldom go out of my way to actively incorporate it into my everyday life. When I saw that Pomona College Department of Music was hosting a classical music showcase, I knew that I had my chance to shift courses. The concert, held on a Friday night, tested my commitment to change; could I forego a Friday night of socializing for the solitary experience of sitting still and listening to two instruments for an hour and forty-five minutes? As I walked into Bridges Hall of Music, I couldn’t help but notice that I was one out of a small handful of concert-goers under the age of 40. Willful suspension of disbelief in play, I contentedly took my seat and admired the traditional yet grandiose architecture of the theater in anticipation. I couldn’t help but become affixed by the stage’s bareness, save for a beautiful Steinway & Sons piano and a lone music stand; it was as if all else inside my mind dissipated into the air like a lost tune. Featuring three Sonatas of Beethoven, Lekeu, and Brahms, the selections were performed by violinist Jonathan Wright, a Pomona College biology professor, and pianist Stephan Moss, a Pomona College IT specialist. If I had any inkling about the ephemeral elements of classical music that Wagner so admired becoming obsolete, the first piece, Beethoven’s Sonata No. 3 in E-flat, Op. 12, no. 3, stripped me of my conscious thinking and demanded my full fixation. The violin, with a domineering personality of its own, crooned with a forceful vigor of melancholic urgency. The piano, quietly intertwining in the background, dripped through the melody like a soft spring rain. I drifted into a make-believe vignette of sprawling emerald meadows and youthful lust, the music my mind’s montage. The air felt palpable with the musical tension between gentility and longing. I could feel myself falling in love- with what, who knows. Before I knew it, half an hour passed; had I really listened to the same song, staring off into space, for that long? The second piece, Guillaume LeBeau's Sonata for Piano and Violin in G Major, left me just as entranced. Having characterized his score as “savage and untamable,” the piece commands an undeniable force. The violin weaved effortlessly between a swooning, almost romantic demeanor and a dramatic temperament of anguish, sounding almost like the soul had been transcribed for composition. If the violin represented human life, then the piano almost certainly mirrored the dynamism of the natural world, its chords falling and soaring like shooting stars. The interplay between these two elements was vastly overwhelming yet somehow inexplicably liberating. It’s difficult, and maybe even naive, to attempt to provide a critically analyzed musical review that can be generalized into a one-size-fits-all package. The perceived quality of musical experience is highly subjective simply due to our own personal preferences. As much as I try, I will never truly take a positive review of country music to heart because I’m just naturally averse to the genre (except for you, Johnny Cash; you have my heart). That being said, I noticed an almost universal pattern of behavior throughout the audience. The lack of theatrics surrounding classical music concerts draws the listener into a more intimate experience. With no surround sound speakers, FX effects, or visual accompaniment, the only element of entertainment that is retained is your mind’s reaction to the music itself. Looking around the theater, I noticed that everyone seemed to be experiencing their own montage of sorts. An older man in the front row wearing a zany purple sweater smiled blithely with closed eyes as he swayed his body; a younger college-aged boy sitting in the balcony gazed longingly towards the stage, resting his crossed arms and outstretched head on the railing; a woman in front of me quietly tapped her fingers against her leg, trailing behind the piano’s lead while letting out an occasional whispered exclamation to her husband about the beauty of a particular moment. While lacking the obvious connotational power of words, the transient nature of classical music represents a more abstract, yet intense manifestation of emotion. You may not always be able to explain it logically, but you feel it viscerally. As students at a college stigmatized for its intense focus on pre-professionalism, our lives are often defined in quantifiable measures, so much so that taking time out of your overbooked schedule to immerse yourself in classical music seems like a laughable luxury. Without it, however, we risk becoming out of touch with ourselves. While finding the perfect resume building summer internship is an important component of life at Claremont McKenna, our ability to appreciate beauty for the sake of itself is just as consequential for success.

When the reading assignments pile up, or when Roberts Pavilion seems like too much of a trek, what can you possibly do to make sure that those numbers on the scale don’t skyrocket? As with most things, maintaining personal health depends on sustaining a balanced lifestyle, rather than depending on one grand workout. Here are five simple tips to help you avoid gaining the "Freshman 15" (or the Sophomore 16): 1. Don’t go for seconds (or thirds). Buffets create a sense of illusion that your stomach can conquer everything in the world. Even if you tell yourself that you are only getting “a little bit” of food from each section of the dining halls, “a little” more often than not, becomes “a lot." Highly impulsive cravings trick your brain to act on the “wants” instead of the “needs.” Before going for a second burrito or another bowl of chicken wings, ask yourself: “do I really need that?” 2. Desserts are treats for a reason. The dessert selection at Pitzer seems to call out your name, and understandably so. Who wouldn’t be enticed by the wide array of goodies that are laid out every day? By forgetting what goes into a single cookie (such as butter, sugar, flour, chocolate chips, etc.) we fall into the trap of lying to ourselves that it’s “just one” cookie. Frequent Ath-goers, in particular, should beware, because the desserts prepared at the Ath are always something unique. A way to discipline yourself against desserts is to remind yourself that those desserts are not going anywhere; if you do not eat a cookie or a brownie or a lemon tart today, you will have the opportunity to do so the next day. 3. Stairs are the enemy, but “thou must love thy enemy.” Wherever there are stairs, take them going up. You may not feel that cardio (or maybe you do) but stairs work your body more than simply walking because you are lifting yourself against gravity. Not only does climbing stairs improve your blood flow, but it also allows you to work the elasticity of your joints and ligaments. Keeping your heart pumping also helps send a rush of oxygen and adrenaline to your brain, which will ultimately keep you more focused and mentally awake. 4. Follow dining hall meal schedule, not the Hub. Late night cravings, especially during nights out, tempt you to grab more food at ungodly hours. Maintaining a healthy lifestyle is not only about the quantity of food but also the timing of your meals. Unless you are eating small amounts of food during shorter time intervals, or unless you are an athlete, it is usually not a very good idea to eat normal portion meals too frequently in a day. You would be overworking your body’s digestion capability when there is no need for it. 5. Increase your daily number of steps. Understandably, if you had a class that ended at 8:50 AM in Pomona and you had to catch a 9 AM at Mudd, you would definitely want to get on some wheeled vehicle to make sure you arrive on time. But for every other case, walking really helps to maintain your energy levels throughout the day. Essentially, the key is to maintain your metabolic activity. Small changes in your daily habits can contribute to your lifestyle, but to actually accomplish that you need a sense of discipline and self-control. Of course, you should also treat yourself once in a while. Suppressing your cravings will eventually cause a crash in your healthy lifestyle. It is easy to get carried away by the obsession of “eating healthy,” so you should also remind yourself to keep negative self-perceptions at bay.

Lack of diversity negatively impacts everyone, not just underrepresented communities. Exposing people to multiple perspectives, backgrounds, and narratives is the centerpiece of higher education, yet there is only one Black professor at CMC. Taken directly from the Diversity and Inclusion page of CMC’s website, the faculty and Board of Trustees promised in 2007: The value that we place on diversity at Claremont McKenna College - in our student body, in our faculty and staff, and in our curriculum - derives directly from our mission to prepare our students for thoughtful and productive lives and responsible leadership in business, government, and the professions. In helping students to acquire the vision, skills, and values they will need to lead society, we must ensure that they are able to succeed in the current social, political, and economic environments, which are increasingly diverse and globally-oriented. To execute our mission, then, it is crucial that we seek to enroll a diverse student body, to recruit a diverse faculty and staff, and to place great value on respect for differences. Two things: first, ten years have passed — so, why is lack of diversity among the professorial body still an issue? Second, the phrasing of the declaration grants a significant amount of leeway to the institution. If you only seek “to enroll a diverse student body,” seek “to recruit a diverse faculty and staff,” and seek “to place great value on respect for differences,” then CMC is only responsible for seeking these outcomes, not fulfilling the end goal of diversifying the student body and faculty. Instead, CMC should just promise to address the issue of diversity forthrightly by setting clear goals and timetables. This would create benchmarks by which the success of the diversity efforts could be objectively measured. Obviously, the promise of diversity made in 2007 has not been kept as there is only one Black professor here at CMC: Professor of Modern Languages and Literature Marie-Denise Shelton. Professor Shelton argues that “faculty from diverse backgrounds bring a special perspective to the disciplines that they teach, and it seems like the college is denying students access to these different perspectives by not hiring a diverse faculty,” as promised in 2007. In spite of this, Professor Shelton remains optimistic because “the administration is trying to remedy the gross lack of diversity among the faculty.” Some of the good news includes the opening of a full-time Africana Studies position with a concentration in philosophy, effective July 2018. Now I understand that the hiring process is complicated: a vacancy or new position must arise, the Dean of Faculty authorizes a search, the department advertises the position and accepts applications, and the designated search committee (usually three or four members of the department) narrows down the applicant pool. At this point, decision-making is extended to the full department, eventually leading to a vote after the finalists visit the campus. The campus visit for each finalist normally consists of interviews with faculty and college administrators, meetings with students, a job talk, and a class demonstration. This is only what happens once a position becomes available: it does not account for the time it can take for positions to open. Even given this elaborate process, I still have trouble excusing the current lack of Black professors, especially when the Diversity and Inclusion Board and other student-led affinity groups feel they have to spearhead many of the diversity initiatives with minimal support. According to the Chair of the Diversity and Inclusion Board, Maya Love ‘20, “it's tricky because the process of hiring more teachers requires a lot of resources and organization behind the scenes. I think where we can improve as a community is linking the dialogue between what administration and what students want to see. Having students in the conversation for hiring and the courses offered on campus can only add to the success of a new or evolving program.” More dialogue between students, faculty, and administration would improve transparency and allow students to stay informed and provide their opinions on the recruiting process every step of the way. For example, just like the Queer Resource Center notified students via email about its efforts in hiring a new director, so too should CMC inform students about the new Africana Studies position. This model of engagement could easily be accomplished or at least initiated through a brief email announcement. There are numerous smart, competent, and sagacious Black intellectuals and scholars in the world. Unfortunately, the current system has minimized their presence in the academic space. CMC has a responsibility to hire a diverse faculty if it wants to uphold the promise it made back in 2007. Make it happen.

As a student at CMC, I often forget about the importance of art. Whenever I say that I’ve never taken an Econ class before (and have no burning desire to do so) I elicit an array of colorful, shocked responses. Yet, I have failed to encounter a similar type of outrage at CMC’s lack of emphasis surrounding theater, music, and applied art. To even access art-centric clubs and events, I frequently have to trek to Pomona and Scripps, often times, finding myself to be the only CMC student there. What troubles me about this phenomenon is not that many CMC students reject art, but rather don’t see it as a necessary component of education. In my opinion, art holds the capacity to elicit emotional, human responses to historical events that are impossible to find in textbooks. Throughout high school, I was heavily involved in the arts, whether that be running a satirical magazine, directing an improvisation troupe, or performing in a musical. Coming to college, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to continue dedicating as much of my time to the same things, and thus, I haven’t been as involved with theater. However, when a friend invited me to see "Cabaret" at Pomona with her, I experienced a small twinge of jealousy, thinking about how all of the cast members had probably spent the past few weeks in close proximity together, rehearsing their lines well into the night, practicing the same scene transitions over and over again in anticipation of the show. I even felt some regret. Despite my theatrical background, I am largely uninformed about musical theater. I can’t confidently claim to know a vast array of obscure shows, nor even pretend to know of the "classics" I should be familiar with. I usually always found myself auditioning for musicals without actually having known them before the audition. This mindset held the potential to create a rather jarring experience, especially when forcing a poor dancer to learn an intensely complex dance break and perform it in auditions 15 minutes later. Yet, becoming acquainted with a show while you’re part of the cast is an intensely personal and rewarding experience. Consistent with my high school ways, I hadn’t seen "Cabaret" and had little to no insight on its content. The only thing I did know about the play was that my improvisation/Theater/English teacher in high school would periodically announce, “We should be doing 'Cabaret' for the Spring musical; that is exactly what this town needs in this political climate,” usually followed by a forlorn, “but they would neverput that show on.” Entering Seaver Theatre, clutching my ticket stub and glossy program, I fielded an aisle seat that, in my naivety, I assumed was prime real estate. I seemed to have momentarily forgotten, however, that a myriad of elders and students would be forced to climb over me to get to their seats. More importantly, though, I had an unobscured view for what I hoped would be an invigorating afternoon of theatre. As I sat through the performance, entranced by the glittered allure of high heels, fishnet stockings, and strippers of Berlin circa 1931, I was immersed in a different world. A socially conscious musical, "Cabaret" depicts the fall of Berlin. Once an artistic haven for vagabonds and misfits, the city becomes immersed in Nazi ideology as its influence splinters friendships and families. Pomona’s production of "Cabaret" demonstrates the necessity of art to enhance empathy and challenge intellectual prenotions; the show served as a forceful medium to display the frightening synthesis of this era to the trends of the modern day. As I left the theater, I had goosebumps. As my friend and I walked alongside the setting sun, wandering the terrain of Pomona’s campus, we couldn’t help but discuss the alarming sentiments of bigotry that manifested itself, subtly at first, in Nazi Germany. Bystanders, in effect, had allowed Nazis to come to power by turning a blind eye to the plight of their neighbors. What does that translate to today? Are we, we wondered aloud, compliantly following a similar pattern? These questions tugged at me well into the remainder of the day and still continues to consume my thoughts. While I consider myself a largely compassionate person, I know that such a strong sense of urgency and discomfort would not come to ferment inside of me without having seen "Cabaret." In short, CMC, theater is not merely a frivolous distraction from real life (i.e. “real” work) but rather a dynamic medium that holds the potential to leave a lasting intellectual impact on its participants. I strongly encourage all of my fellow CMCers to venture into the other Claremont Colleges to remind yourselves, like I did, of the role that art plays in educating the whole person.

So, you know the CARE Center, right? You probably know that it is located on the second floor of Heggblade, above the Dean of Students Office. You might know that part of its mission is "to build capacity in communicating across difference with respect and civility." But here's something you probably don't know about the CARE Center: it exists because of the activism of a small group of students of color, which began in February 2015. These students, who formed a group called CMCers of Color, met with administrators throughout the Spring and Summer of 2015 advocating for — among other things — a campus resource center for students of marginalized identities. Even at the end of that summer, when the administration went back on their agreement to create a resource center, students refused to give up and CMCers of Color continued to grow in size, partnering with other affinity groups, such as BSA, APAM, SAGA, and GenU. Collectively, they signed and published a letter detailing instances of racist, classist, and homophobic aggressions on campus, which highlighted the lack of institutional support and called for increased resources for marginalized students. The letter was followed by a demonstrationat the Hub, where students shared their experiences and list of demands. At this time, President Chodosh agreed to set up a temporary and eventually permanent space for the resource center. At the end of the 2015 fall semester, students gained access to one of the portable offices next to Bauer Center, Module G, as the temporary resource center. Early in the Spring 2016 semester, four students, including myself, were hired to direct programming for Mod G and help shape the permanent resource center. Mod G showed us a glimpse of what a vibrant, student-centered resource center could look and feel like. We filled a bookshelf with diverse, empowering narratives ranging from Amy Tan’s The Joy Luck Club to Assata, the autobiography of Assata Shakur. We hung art and posters with messages like, “A woman’s place is in the struggle,” “Black Lives Matter,” and “Queers Demand Gender Self-Determination.” We went to Ikea and picked out a coffee table, a rug, and other decorations. We planned a successful open house event where students, staff, and administrators wrote out their commitments to create an inclusive campus culture. We held office hours every week and welcomed all students into the space. We did our homework there and sometimes took naps on the couches. Because this was before a Dean of Diversity & Inclusion was hired, we did all of this without a direct supervisor. Together, we, the students, filled that tiny portable office with love and — yes — abundant care. But the care with which we nurtured our community in that space is not the same care from which our current resource center derives its name. How could it be when the first letter of the acronym CARE stands for "Civility”? The mission statement for the CARE Center contains the words "civil" or "civility" three times in the first paragraph, while the words "racism," "marginalized," and "students of color" are nowhere to be found. Enshrining civility as the primary value of this space dismisses the range of emotions that come with being a marginalized student at a place like CMC and tells them "you will be excluded from the discourse because the way you express yourself makes some people uncomfortable." Note that this tone polices students of color, which is irrefutably harmful because it values the comfort of the privileged over the feelings and lived experiences of the marginalized. The CARE Center’s mission statement does not reflect the vision and values of the students who fought so hard for the resource center and who were subsequently excluded from its creation. Let’s be very clear: this center would not exist if not for the labor of student organizers who fought for it. Our vision for the resource center, which we presented and discussed with the administration, was sanitized to the point of being unrecognizable. When looking at the CARE Center’s website, it is not immediately clear that this is a space meant to offer resources and support to students of marginalized identities. Here is its first guiding principle: “First, the center will be inclusive and open to all, regardless of background, identity, viewpoint, or values. It will aspire to be inviting to all students and to actively create opportunities for the broadest possible range of students to learn and use the space.” In bending over backward to emphasize that the space is open to all, it becomes unclear why the space even exists in the first place. The majority of CMC students don’t need a space like this because the entire campus is a safe space for them. This space should be for the minority of students who experience marginalization, discrimination, and microaggressions on campus and who need a space that makes them feel a little less alone in what can otherwise be a very isolating college experience. Frankly, I don’t care if “all” students feel comfortable in the CARE Center. I care that the students who the space was created for feel comfortable there. I care about all the students who feel like they don’t belong at CMC having one place on campus that centers and uplifts them. Moving forward, the CARE Center can better support students by properly acknowledging the history of resistance and student activism that led to its creation. The CARE Center must also de-emphasize civility and instead elevate its original intended mission: to support and empower students of marginalized identities. The CARE Center must offer better support for identity-based groups on campus (including dedicating permanent physical space within the center to each affinity group). This space must prioritize the needs and support of marginalized students above the comfort of more privileged students. This space must help students develop a critical consciousness around race, class, gender, power, and privilege and encourage them to think critically about their intersecting identities. This space must empower and support student activists, not ignore, silence, or tone police them. The CARE Center is here because of the students of color who fought for it, who sacrificed so much knowing they would likely never see the fruits of their labor, but believed it was worth it to give future marginalized students a better college experience. Though the space is not what we hoped it would be, it is a step in the right direction that it exists at all. If student activism taught me anything, it is how incredibly powerful our voices are when we raise them together to demand equity and justice. I have faith that current and future students will be able to reclaim this space and shape it into something that radically centers them and serves their needs. There are many ways to do this, but I think it must start with remembering the history of how it came to be.

Sex Week, a week of sex-positive workshops and events organized by CMC Advocates, took place Monday, Oct. 23 to Friday, Oct. 27. With a wide range of topics such as “Orgasm, Anarchy” and “Sexy Safer Sex,” the week provided students with first-hand opportunities to learn more about the pleasures of sex, body positivity, STDs, consent, and condoms. Most students have had some form of sexual education before coming to college, whether it be based on abstinence or how to have safe sex. But what differentiated this event from past sex-ed experiences is that Mia Li encouraged students to not only engage in consensual sex, but also take it one step further by exploring the unknown realms of kinky pleasure. Li challenged the stereotypes and overgeneralizations surrounding bondage, discipline, dominance, submission, sadomasochism, and other related dynamics (BDSM) and denounced the shame associated with such activities which many consider outside of their sexual comfort zones. As with any other type of sex, she regarded consent as the number one priority. In order to correctly practice BDSM, it must be sane, safe, and consensual, according to the guidelines set by Li. She defined these terms as: Sane: being in a state of mind to be able to assess risk, safety, and communicate consent Safe: minimized risk of unwanted, unintended injury or disease/infection Consensual: an agreement to partake in physical, emotional, and sexual exchange with mutual agreement She then redirected us into a more personal reflection, asking us to think about our needs, wants, and desires. During this exercise, we were forced to reflect on our sexual history and determine how it impacted present feelings. The result was a comical account of adults attempting to convey their inner emotions. Who would have ever thought that this could be so difficult? Despite the initial discomfort, Li reassured us to push through the awkwardness, and once again, motivated us to discuss these taboo issues more openly. Furthermore, she stressed the importance of knowing your personal hard and soft limits; the former is non-negotiable under any circumstance and the latter is occasionally negotiable. As a group, we also practiced defining these boundaries in a mini-workshop geared towards improving our communication practices, such as verbal check-ins and safe word usage. By the end, we had a much better understanding of the two types of sexual limits and how knowing these concepts contribute to a safer sex climate. Altogether, the O.school, Mia Li, and CMC Advocates provided an amazing opportunity to keep these conversations about sex, sexuality, and pleasure open. Sex is heavily stigmatized because students are only taught about sex; the key importance of this week was that the talks and events were inclusive, informative, and fun. The pleasure professionals were not lecturing the students, but rather, they engaged with us and answered our curiosities. These discussions are indicative of a healthy, fun, and safe sex climate on campus To conclude her presentation, Li reaffirmed the significance of limits and disclosed her favorite sexual activities. “I love being called a slut, but not in a derogatory way. I want it to come from a place of high praise like ‘you go slut!’” Li’s fierce comfort with her sexuality inspired us to learn more about ours and exposed the commonly disregarded topic of safe, consensual sex. Here are our biggest takeaways: take the time to discover your body and what it likes, and always remain unapologetic for your wants, needs, and desires. Be shameless about your sexual fantasies.

For the past five years, Claremont McKenna College has invited approximately 30 high school seniors for a four-day long preview program taking place in three waves: one week in the fall and two weeks in the spring. Serving as a diversity initiative, the program allows students from underrepresented minority groups to experience CMC, usually taking place from Wednesday to Sunday. This particular interval includes Thursday and Saturday — two of the biggest party days on campus. However, this year's fall preview only lasted from Sunday, Oct. 8 to Tuesday, Oct. 10, which significantly reduced the duration of the students’ stay. In addition to diversifying the student body, the preview program promises a fully encompassing CMC experience, but with the change, it now fails to fulfill this promise. CMC takes pride in its highly social culture and prevalent party culture, but if party days are excluded, how will students ever see it in action? Moreover, placing the program in the middle of the midterm season did not help the hosts, even though it partially disclosed the academic rigor to the students as one CMC student commented. Just earlier this year, I participated in the preview program, eager to get a glimpse of my soon-to-be new home. During my time, I engaged in academic workshops, attended financial aid info sessions, and forged new bonds. Amongst all of these activities, the program still set aside time for fun. Luckily for me, Thursday was included, so I attended Thursday Night Club (TNC) with a few of the current students. I even got invited to a pre-game. Come Sunday, I did not want to leave campus or return to my pedestrian life back in Little Rock, Arkansas. I saw a life full of exuberance and overwhelming opportunity, but only through the vignette offered by this program. Immersed in the college environment, I truly felt like a CMCer, if only for three days. Now on the flip side, I hosted a prospective student who felt unsure if he fully experienced all aspects of CMC. Sadly enough, he was not the only student to harbor similar feelings of uncertainty. The other hosts and I disclosed as much truth behind the campus culture as possible; however, words only reveal so much and are no substitute for first-hand experience. After all, the students came here to preview CMC, not to just hear about it from current students. On another note, some of the older students on campus have expressed concerns about the actual authenticity of the program. You spend four days on campus with students who come from similar backgrounds but arrive only to realize the immense privilege of the collective student body, which, once again, emphasizes the student’s minority status. I understand where this concern comes from, but it is also important to address the impact of socioeconomic status on students’ ability to visit campus. Students from wealthy backgrounds have the ability to visit campus whenever they choose. Some of the students visit on days with parties while others do not, but they have the luxury of being able to plan a trip around their specific wants and needs. Preview students do not have this privilege, so why further limit their brief CMC experience? The goal of the preview program should be to provide a similar experience to that of a current student, not to try to convince the students to attend by romanticizing CMC’s culture. Excluding party days does not aid in this effort. If you ask me, CMC Admissions delivered a disservice to this batch of prospective students. The act of advertising one image but then actively withholding that image by omitting certain days left students in the dark. This is not to say that the program failed in other regards because if given the chance as a senior to partake in the fall or spring preview, I would do it all again—with or without the parties. One thing is for sure: the program's mission to increase diversity and lessen the burden for students from low-income households to visit campus highlights an important disparity in college culture. The only factor missing is the complete and authentic experience, as promised to all prospective students.

Sander at the Ath last spring. By Rachel Supnick On June 29, 2023, the Supreme Court ruled on one of the most controversial topics in higher education: affirmative action. With a 6-3 conservative supermajority, SCOTUS abandoned years of precedent and effectively struck down race-conscious admissions in the United States. Opponents have long loathed the policy for its supposed discrimination against White and Asian students in college admissions. In April 2023, Claremont McKenna College invited UCLA School of Law professor Richard Sander – known for suing the University of California system for not releasing admissions data – to speak at the Athenaeum, where he compared today’s race-conscious admissions to the Jewish quotas at Ivy League schools in the 1920s. As a Jewish CMCer in the audience, I was dumbfounded by his claim. Sander and his like-minded colleagues completely miss the point of affirmative action, which is to bring marginalized students up to an equal playing field in higher education. While Jewish quotas were constructed to keep Jews out, affirmative action was designed to let underrepresented minority students into highly ranked schools like mine. The policy allows groups facing historical, systemic inequality to get a leg up in education. Naturally the result does not favor Whites and Asians, and justly so, as these groups are not facing the same historic socioeconomic disadvantages. The same opponents of affirmative action often subscribe to the idea that underrepresented students are ill-prepared for the academic rigor of top-tier universities. They argue that students of color end up being hurt by affirmative action when they could have performed better at lower-ranked schools where they were more equally equipped to succeed. This concept is known as the “mismatch theory,” and by no coincidence, Richard Sander is its founder. Studies supporting the existence of this so called “mismatch” are few and far between. In Sander’s talk he pointed to convoluted tables of misleading data showing Black law students earning lower grades on average than White students and requiring more attempts to pass the bar. But in his own study on UC law schools, when the ranking and quality of each students’ undergraduate education is considered, Black and White students perform on par with one another. The gap in grades could also be attributed to a lack of inclusivity programs designed to help minority students thrive academically and socially at their undergraduate and graduate schools. Recently at CMC’s TedX conference titled “ME-lting Pot” – hosted the same month as Sander’s visit – students of color shared that affinity groups like 1Gen are vital for people of color and first-generation college students to succeed in predominately white institutions like ours. Emerging case studies at universities across the country also show a trend between inclusivity programs and the retention rate of underrepresented minority students. At North Central College in Naperville, Illinois, for example, Latino first-gen students are thriving under the school’s “Cardinal First” program – an affinity group for first-generation students – compared to their peer group not enrolled in the program. Latino first-generation students in Cardinal First demonstrated an 89% retention rate from their first to second year of college compared to only 52% for students in the same demographic who are not participating in the program. To put it starkly, getting a student into a school is not enough to guarantee they will perform at the same level as their White counterparts from families with multiple generations of schooling, and that reflects the work to be done in improving higher education, not students’ capabilities. To envision our future without affirmative action, we need only look at the aftermath of California’s Proposition 209. The policy banned the consideration of race, sex, or ethnicity in admissions at California public universities in 1998. The result was alarming: Black and Hispanic enrollment at flagship universities dropped steeply, and minority students cascaded into less selective institutions, according to a comprehensive study performed by Zachary Bleemer, Assistant Professor of Economics at Yale, on applicants to eight campuses in the UC system from 1994 to 2002. While Sander was keen to talk about correcting mismatch, he failed to mention that when underrepresented minority students began attending lower-quality universities post-Prop 209, they graduated at lower rates than before. In the long-run, the students who were pushed down in the education-hierarchy faced lower average wages in their 20s and 30s. All the while, White and Asian students saw little benefit, counter to the long-espoused narrative that these demographics would be better off without racial preferences in admissions. If the years following Prop 209 are any indication, racial and socioeconomic diversity in universities around the country will soon all but disappear. Policy proposals banning legacy admits and student-athlete preferences may help, but will likely be just as contentious, as will socioeconomic status (SES)-conscious admissions. Supporters of affirmative action must turn to policies that address the root causes of educational inequality: teacher-quality gaps in K-12. Teachers have proven to be the most essential factor in students’ achievement, yet minority students tend to have less qualified and less effective teachers than their White peers. Transporting students of color to higher-income schools won’t fly with affluent parents whose taxes go towards their kids’ public schools. If we can’t pass laws that bring students to good teachers, we must bring the teachers to them. In a study funded by the US Department of Education, high-performing teachers across ten school districts in seven states were offered $20,000 bonuses to teach at low-performing schools. Elementary schools in the study saw the black-white achievement gap disappear within four years. Affirmative action is far gone. To continue giving students of color a fighting chance at a top-tier collegiate education, we must reform our school system from the bottom-up – starting with access to our best teachers. A policy closing teacher-quality gaps in public schools will not come to fruition quickly, but it is worth the investment to enable disadvantaged students to claim the equal opportunities they deserve.

While room draw is nearing and the stress and anxiety is building, students can finally look forward to knowing their new home for the upcoming school year. This post includes an assortment of unique and creative dorm rooms at CMC to ease your nerves about room draw. Take a look at some cool dorm set-ups and feel inspired to begin planning your own room for next semester. Vera Armus '18 (Beckett) Juan Perez '17 and Ramon Gomez '17 (Green) Jennifer Mace '19 (Auen) Patrick Hennessey '19 and Brendan Suh '19 (Crown) Austin Melody '17 (Apartments) Oona Pritchard '17 (Apartments)

Over the weekend, hundreds of thousands of people turned out for the Women's March in Los Angeles. Among the crowds this past weekend were CMC students becoming a part of the uplifting and empowering atmosphere surrounding the day. Take a look at some pictures shot by CMC and Scripps students this past Saturday to learn more about their experiences at the Women's March. Photos by Shreya Bhatnagar '20 "This was my first Women's March and the only word to describe it was 'invigorating.' So many men, women, and people of different identities gathered on a cold LA day to show solidarity with women across the world."