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On February 11th, the Pitzer Student Senate overwhelmingly voted (34-1) to suspend the college's direct-enroll study abroad program with the University of Haifa in Israel, citing the institution's alleged involvement in "Israeli apartheid" and discrimination against Palestinians. The resolution also blocks the creation of partnerships with Israeli universities until such practices end. The Senate held the vote in the McConnell Founder’s Room, drawing students, faculty, staff, and alumni from across the Claremont Colleges. Notably present were Nigel Boyle, the chair of the Faculty Executive Committee, and Pitzer President Strom Thacker. Among the nearly 30 people who spoke in favor of the initiative were student leaders, two faculty members; Prof. Heather Ferguson from CMC and another from Pitzer, and members of the local community representing Los Angeles Jewish Voice for Peace. Even Omar Barghouti, co-founder of the Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions (BDS), urged senators to pass the measure through a recorded message. No phones were allowed, and no one spoke against the resolution. Some addressed President Thacker directly, accusing him and his administration of being complicit in the murder and oppression of Palestinians. In response to the senate's decision, President Thacker issued a statement the following Monday. While expressing gratitude for being part of the conversation, he emphasized that the views of the Student Senate do not reflect those of the entire student body. He reiterated the college's commitment to its foundational mission and the importance of a safe and productive campus learning environment. Thacker stated that resolutions contrary to these core values would not be upheld. Claremont Students for Justice in Palestine (SJP) and Jewish Voice for Peace (JVP) issued a joint statement celebrating the measure’s adoption, calling it “one step closer to a historic BDS victory” and reaffirming their intention to set a precedent for boycotts at other campuses throughout the nation. They vowed to continue their campaign until the resolution passes the next step: The College Council governing body that represents faculty, staff, and students. Should the resolution clear this hurdle, the final decision on its implementation will rest with President Thacker.

With muscles popping out of his shirt at age 70, James Oakes is an academic who doesn’t shrink from a political fight. During his February 12th Athenaeum visit, the acclaimed historian of emancipation argued for a new framework for understanding Lincoln’s approach to ending slavery — antislavery Constitutionalism. Lincoln is often cast in extreme ways: idolized as a quasi-divine emancipator, or criticized as a hesitant, racist acquiescer. But Lincoln’s approach to ending slavery was not driven by the sweeping gestures of myth. Rather, it was dictated by a pragmatic engagement with the legal and moral compromises made at the Constitutional Convention that formed the Union. As a shrewd politician and President, Lincoln focused more on the goals of stopping the spread of slavery while holding the Union together than on ending the moral evil of slavery outright.  His vision was that halting slavery's expansion to the Western territories would gradually erode its economic and political foundation. The original Constitution was a compromise with slavery, as is apparent in the clauses that obliquely refer to the institution without naming it. The Three-Fifths Clause put pro-slavery Southerners in a position to dominate the national government through the early decades of the 19th Century. As Alexander Hamilton argued at the New York ratifying convention, against the critics of the three-fifths compromise: without it “no union could possibly have been formed.” Beyond the Three-Fifths Clause and other explicit provisions, the Constitution depended on  a “federal consensus” that prevented Congress from abolishing slavery in states where it already existed. An example is the Missouri Compromise of 1820, which struck a balance between free and slave states. Lincoln understood this “federal consensus” as essential to holding the nation together. Yet even if the founders left a Constitution that represented a compromise with slavery, they also left a Constitution with numerous provisions entirely at odds with the practice. During the antebellum decades, as slavery’s defenders ratcheted up their claims that slaveholding was a constitutionally protected property right, abolitionists and their political allies drew out the antislavery implications of the founding documents. While Southern enslavers emphasized their right to recapture fugitives who escaped to the North, abolitionists emphasized states’ authority to require due process in renditions to protect free Black citizens. Some influential radical abolitionists like William Lloyd Garrison understandably weren’t as hellbent on holding the Union together or defending the Constitution. Garrison concluded that the Constitution was a “covenant with death” and “an agreement with hell.” Ironically, Garrison’s reading of the Constitution as a pro-slavery document matched the interpretation of fervent slavery advocates, like Senator John C. Calhoun, Chief Justice Justice Roger B. Taney, and Jefferson Davis, to name a few. This pro-slavery reading of the Constitution has reemerged in contemporary debates in novel ways. Oakes sees The New York Times’ 1619 Project, which re-popularized the argument that the Constitution—and the founding  itself—were explicitly and irredeemably pro-slavery, as erasing these countervailing anti-slavery interpretations. It was this interpretive tradition, taken up by abolitionists and eventually by Republicans like Abraham Lincoln, that actually challenged the views and entrenched political might of the Southern “slave power.” In fact, Oakes argues that this Constitutional reading drove Southern fears of Lincoln that culminated in secession — the decision that catalyzed the end of Slavery. Abolitionist Lysander Spooner, for example, insisted that the Constitution, by avoiding the use of the word slavery, provided no constitutional sanction to the practice. Frederick Douglass even argued that the Constitution was a “glorious freedom document.” In a speech before the Anti-Slavery Society in Glasgow, Douglass echoed Spooner’s point that the terms “slave” and “slavery” were absent from the document, offering instead a pro-liberty reading. The Fifth Amendment, for instance, states that no person shall be deprived of life, liberty, or property without due process of law. Black Americans, even if not yet recognized as citizens, were undeniably persons. Abolitionists and Northern politicians found in the Fifth Amendment and other parts of the Constitution a potent weapon to stymie enforcement of the Fugitive Slave Acts. Other abolitionists contended that Congress held the exclusive constitutional authority to ban slavery in the Western territories and was morally bound to exercise it. Furthermore, they believed that Congress had the power to end the domestic slave trade and eliminate slavery within the District of Columbia. As support for this contention, they highlighted the Constitution's preamble giving the federal government the power to “secure the blessings of liberty” and pointed to the Fourth Amendment's protection from unwarranted seizures. The Northern critics of slavery were persistent, They maintained that the rights and freedoms guaranteed to citizens, as stated in Article IV, Section 2, stemmed directly from the federal Constitution, not the individual state constitutions. This meant that Black citizens from the North had the constitutionally-protected right to move across state lines. They utilized the constitutional assurance of republican government in every state, delineated in Article IV, Section 4, as a lever to challenge the legitimacy of slavery within the Southern states. And they warned that should the slave states decide to leave the Union, they would abandon their constitutional protections, thereby absolving states opposed to slavery from the responsibility of enforcing the law regarding fugitive slaves. ​​Within these constitutional boundaries, Lincoln pursued, before and during the Civil War, the goal of abolition by individual states. He intended pressure from the federal government to move the Southern states to enact their own gradual emancipation policies, as individual Northern states had done following the American Revolution. Lincoln’s debates with Stephen Douglas and his public addresses reveal a moral leader wrestling with the nation's founding contradictions, seeking to reconcile the promise of equality and liberty enshrined in the Declaration of Independence with the Constitution’s accommodations of slavery. Southern slaveholders harbored such deep fears of the Republicans and Lincoln that his victory in the Election of 1860 triggered the immediate secession of several slave states. Even before Lincoln was inaugurated in March 1861, seven states had already established the Confederacy, with four additional states joining them between April and June. The newly-formed Republican Party was the political embodiment of this antislavery constitutionalism, with Lincoln as its figurehead. Secession was not a hysterical overreaction to a nonexistent threat: Republicans meant to challenge slavery and posed a serious threat to it. In the 1830s, long before the Civil War erupted, President John Quincy Adams was asserting the emancipatory force of the Constitution’s War Powers clause should the federal government be called on to repel a foreign invasion or suppress a domestic insurrection. Oakes argues that by the time the Civil War began, Adams’ reading had been widely accepted by antislavery politicians across the North. In other words, they believed that secession released Lincoln from having to uphold the “federal consensus.” Soon after hostilities commenced, Lincoln and the Republicans began using the powers afforded by wartime to undermine the Confederacy's main support system and accelerate the end of slavery. While Noah Feldman of Harvard Law School argued at the Athenaeum last year that Lincoln had to ‘break’ the Constitution’s “federal consensus” during the Civil War in order to grant emancipation and remake the document, Oakes strongly disagrees — he suggests that Lincoln effectively utilized two fundamental aspects of anti-slavery Constitutionalism: the idea that the states in rebellion had lost their entitlement to constitutional protections and the provision that allowed the federal government to suppress uprisings within states, which also implied the authority to free slaves in the process. To Oakes, the connection between the rise of anti-slavery constitutionalism and the outbreak of the Civil War is undeniable. In this sense, the pro-slavery fears were well-founded. Lincoln and the Republicans were coming back at them not just with the power of arms, but with the power of Constitutional ideas.

In a landmark bilateral initiative, the United States and China agreed to join forces against the fentanyl epidemic—a move that signals a potential thaw in fraught relations. Yet few know what the agreement entails, whether it will be effective, or what it signals for cooperation on other issues. U.S. President Joe Biden and Chinese President Xi Jinping agreed to the talks last November. China had previously limited its cooperation with the U.S. following former Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi’s 2022 visit to Taiwan. The opioid epidemic is devastating the U.S., with fentanyl, a powerful synthetic opioid, at the root of the chaos. Introduced in the 1960s for pain management, fentanyl has become a lethal street drug. Infamously addictive, the drug is often used to "cut" more expensive substances like cocaine, posing dangerous risks to unsuspecting users. In 2022, over 107,000 Americans died of fentanyl overdoses, roughly twice the U.S. death toll from the Vietnam War. Most of the precursor chemicals used to make fentanyl are manufactured in China by small chemical and pharmaceutical companies. These companies sell to cartels in Mexico, who turn them into fentanyl they then smuggle into the U.S. China lacks an immediate economic incentive to crack down on fentanyl production — they profit from the cartels’ business. Their cooperation, instead, reflects longer term political and economic objectives. Chinese officials saw other benefits to this agreement: relief from broad U.S. sanctions against 32 Chinese companies blamed for fentanyl production or mistreatment of the Uyghurs. When Xi refused to begin talks without Biden first lifting the sanctions on the China’s Public Security Ministry’s Institute of Forensic Science, the U.S. agreed. The U.S. gained bargaining power from Chinese economic tumult. Economic decline began in 2021 due to COVID-19 restrictions but recently worsened, reflecting weaknesses in the housing sector, stock market, and domestic consumption. These economic challenges increase U.S. leverage to ensure the fentanyl agreement has real impact. China needs to remediate U.S. relations to attract foreign capital and increase exports. Should China fail to constrain fentanyl exports, the U.S. might reinstate sanctions and threaten trade between the countries. But creating an enforceable deal is challenging. Drug manufacturing's clandestine nature makes regulation difficult. Fentanyl is particularly difficult to regulate because manufacturers create new analogs so frequently that regulatory agencies can not keep up. Some urge the U.S. and China to engage in a multilateral approach, pointing to China’s successful collaboration with Australia under “Taskforce Blaze.” The 2015 collaboration successfully reduced illegal methamphetamine trafficking that was devastating Australia. Versions of this already exist: the Biden Administration established the Global Coalition to Address Synthetic Drug Threats in July 2023, which more than 80 countries joined (though not China). U.S. and Chinese leaders could find multilateral efforts easier to embrace given bilateral frictions and mutual mistrust. At a minimum, successful efforts should include Mexico, which is central to the problem but absent from the conversation. While the U.S. heavily criticizes China for its inability to control the flow of fentanyl out of its country, Mexico shares blame for its failure to police and control its powerful drug cartels. Finally, many note America’s failures in responding to the threat of fentanyl. Both China and Mexico have condemned the U.S. for focusing exclusively on supply without addressing American demand for the drug. Furthermore, Mexico struggles to control its drug cartels because they possess military-grade automatic weapons – most of which were imported from the U.S. And U.S. inability to control domestic demand for fentanyl ensures rich profits for those Mexican and Chinese entities making and selling the drugs. Journalist Sam Quinones wrote America must “step up to curtail the southward supply of assault weapons… that ensure traffickers can produce the drugs killing so many Americans.” The U.S.-China pact is a make-or-break moment in the battle against this epidemic. If they fail, the grim reality is more lives lost and tensions heightened.

Online, there’s quite a bit of chatter about going offline. All of us agree: we hate it here, on the internet. Online, we’re barely ourselves, and yet we’re the worst of us. Online, our IQ plummets, our blood pressure soars. All of us threaten to leave—we’re finished, we’re through, it’s over. And, somehow, it’s never over—the doom-scrolling, thumbs-ing up, thumbs-ing down, freaking out, geeking out, spamming, stanning. If you’re an average internet user, a quarter of your waking life passes online. A quarter of the one and only life you’ll ever get, handed over to The Algorithm. A few months ago, this much became apparent: life wasn’t mine, anymore. No—it belonged to Elon, and the Podcast Bros of the Manosphere, and Taylor Swift’s “The Era’s Tour: TikTok/Instagram Reels/YouTube Shorts Edition.” Was it ever to be returned to me? Only by force, it seemed. The apps had to go. Screw you Elon; screw you, Podcast Bros. So there they went. Instagram: delete. Youtube next, and TikTok, too. X (or “Twitter,” if you’re in denial)? Good riddance. And finally—agonizingly—Reddit. Farewell. After the Apps, a silence rushed in: the uneasy quiet you’d expect to hear just before the end of the world. A full quarter of the future was newly freed up. What now? Dope-sickness, mostly. Getting clean wasn’t easy; the Pavlovian slave within fiended for mindless amusement—anything at all to entertain, to occupy, to distract. Muscle-memory ruled. A few times each hour, the phone would inexplicably “appear” in hand; my fingers twitched—the shudders of withdrawal. With all of the usual distractions uninstalled, though, there was nowhere to go except for the weather app, to check the conditions in Novosibirsk, Siberia. Or something. Freedom, it turns out, is a responsibility. With the “Luddite Project” in full swing, the pressure was on—to replace the soul-suck of the apps with genuine meaning. When you reject society, expectations are high. Presumably, you’ve turned your back for a reason: society’s gotten it wrong, and you’ve gotten it right. Because, well, you’re enlightened. And so, the mandate was never: “prove being online sucks.” No. Everyone already knew this. The mandate was: “prove being offline is better.” And, in some ways, it was better. Sure, there were periods of boredom, moments which seemed entirely devoid of purpose. And yet, the internet hadn’t seemed to supply much purpose, either. Was spending an afternoon watching a TikTok plastic surgeon analyze the Hadids’ noses purpose? Unlikely. And, it’s true: there’s lots to be done offline. For me, the hours I’d once reserved for scrolling were now spent walking. Everyone had been telling me: “Get outside!” And, I did. And the world was bright—and it wasn’t blue light. And it was meditative; this was time to cogitate, to be alone with the contents of consciousness, to chip away at life’s largest questions. Questions such as: “What might the Tate Brothers be up to, right now?” and “What sort of dust-storm of ill-will has Ariana Grande kicked up this week?” and “Are the chronically-single members of r/datingadvice really going to end up alone?” So yes, the internet haunted me, even after our break-up. No part of me wanted to log back on. And yet, the knowledge of it all going down—without the knowledge of what “it” was, or what “it” meant—nagged. Some would call it “FOMO.” Well, not exactly. As a passive Internet Addict (never visible in any comment section, never a “poster”), being online was for data-collection. All of us, to some extent, exist on the internet as “cultural researchers,” observers, and meta-critics. We’re fascinated by our fascinations, our fixations—by the kinds of creatures we are, and the kinds of creatures we’re made to be, by Silicon Valley. And that’s the real reason to stay: being on the internet was never really about fitting in, there. It had always been, ironically, an entry ticket into the “real world.” Did I want to be online for its sake? Of course not—I needed to be online for instrumental reasons: to complain about the internet, offline. Did I miss the Culture War? No, I missed the commentary—the picking sides—with real-life companions. It wasn’t that I missed the Podcast Bros; I missed mocking them in non-virtual spaces. Bitching is bonding. And if I wasn’t doing the first, I couldn’t get the second. We’re all “in” the internet, always. The internet doesn’t stop when you shut down the apps—not if everyone else stays behind. There’s no real escape hatch. Being offline, and being the only one, is equivalent to being the shut-in neighbor of the person who’s hosting the World’s Wildest Party (invite list: everyone, and not you): there will be drunken brawls, and dancing, and talk of politics. And you’ll hear it, through the walls—the noise pollution, seeping in. And yet, it’s muffled, unintelligible. You’ll just never get it. People will try to describe to you what happened, and they’ll fail miserably to capture the way things were. Everyone knows the best part of the party is the debrief—the picking it apart, the gossip which follows. Half of the fun is the post-mortem—the after party. And, in the Internet Age, the “real world” is the after party. The internet hadn’t stopped leaking into my life. But I’d lost the ability to interpret it. Friends were still saying “Naurrrr” instead of “No” for reasons that weren’t entirely clear to me, but for reasons, I suspected, had something to do with the one place they all were, that I wasn’t. I hadn’t really left, after all.

The “Take Our Border Back” convoy that drove to San Ysidro on the outskirts of San Diego last month served as a reminder of the raging debates surrounding immigration policy. Targeting San Ysidro, the city with the busiest border crossing in the Western hemisphere, the anti-immigration convoy protested President Joe Biden’s border management. The convoy began in Virginia and traveled to US-Mexico borders in Texas, Arizona, and California. Although originally intended to include 700,000 trucks, observers counted less than 200. Leaders of the convoy cited drug cartels, human trafficking, and terrorism as their main concerns. But for Mexico native Ilse Robles, who was not even aware that protests occurred, it was just another day of commuting to Starbucks in this city of 30,000 people. “I always go back and forth,” said Robles, 28, who was born in Tijuana but now lives in San Ysidro and crosses back into Mexico four times a week. “They always ask me, where do you go? Why do you cross so often? And I'm like, because I'm a resident, I'm not a citizen yet,” Robles said. “I tell them I take care of my mom. And then they understand.” Robles’ easygoing attitude doesn’t reflect the growing frustrations a few states over in Eagle Pass, Texas. That border city, another one of the convoy’s targets, has been pressured by historic rates of migration. During one notable week in December, some 12,000 migrants crossed from Mexico. Backlash from Texans prompted Gov. Greg Abbott to implement his own state-run initiatives to counteract what he calls the ‘invasion’ of migrants. In order to increase border security, Abbott repeatedly defied federal regulations. On top of his migrant bussing efforts, Abbott signed a law allowing state troops to make arrests. The result has been a humanitarian disaster with incidents including drowning, razor wire injuries, and migrants being pushed back into the water. Meanwhile, the town’s residents don’t seem very concerned: “I think Greg Abbott is doing the right thing,” Eagle Pass resident Elias Mata told The New York Times in early February. “We appreciate the convoy coming here,” Mata added. “US border agents in Eagle Pass, Texas, are outnumbered by migrants 200 to 1,” the New York Post reported last December. “The diversion of manpower has extended beyond Texas, with CBP personnel flying in from areas around the US to help.” Daily life in San Ysidro presents a different side of the story surrounding the border crisis. The predominantly Spanish-speaking district is proof of a functioning immigration system. Amidst the significant number of crossings in San Ysidro, residents like Ilse Robles have been able to build a life in the United States. Robles has lived in San Ysidro for more than 10 years. She graduated from Southwestern College with a degree in literature. During the pandemic, she bounced from job to job, eventually landing at Starbucks. She started her own jewelry business on the side. Aside from occasional comments about her pink hair, Robles reports little difficulty crossing the border. “I Uber a lot. So I'll take an Uber from here to there, and then I walk across the border. So that'll take me 12 minutes to walk back,” Robles told me outside the Starbucks before starting her shift. Kevin Chapa, 20, who lives in Tijuana, shared similar sentiments: “There’s really no issue for me,” he said on a break from his job at a Baskin-Robbins ice cream shop in San Ysidro. “As long as you have the necessary paperwork, you’re fine.” Chapa lives with his family 20 minutes into Tijuana. He crosses the border every weekend for work, a routine he has followed for the past two years. And it’s not just Robles and Chapa. “The jobs I've had here, more than half of my coworkers are residing in Mexico,” Chapa told me. The contrasting situations in San Ysidro and Eagle Pass reflect divergent policies between states. As a “Sanctuary State,” California prioritizes community safety per the California Values Act (SB 54), signed into law in October 2017. This legislation restricts state and local resources from being utilized to assist federal immigration enforcement efforts. Conversely, Texas’ SB 4 prohibits these kinds of sanctuary policies and mandates that state and local authorities enforce federal immigration law. While a federal judge ruled SB4 unconstitutional on the grounds that border security enforcement is solely in the federal government's jurisdiction, Abbott appealed the ruling to the U.S. 5th Circuit Court of Appeals. San Ysidro Walmart employee Nick Dillinger’s attitude is emblematic of those asking for increased border security. “I don’t speak Spanish, brother,” Dillinger said when I first asked to interview him in Spanish. Dillenger claimed he is primarily concerned with safety and resource allocation. He lit a Marlboro cigarette and shook his head. “You got people living on the street, you got veterans living on the street, they need help, and you haven't helped them. That's the problem right there,” Dillinger said. The immigration debate on the ground will only intensify as the 2024 election looms. In February, Republicans in the House voted to impeach DHS Sec. Alejandro Mayorkas, over what critics called standard policy differences and not constitutional issues.

CMC Registrar Katharine Lowe tips her cap to Barbara Christman, Makia Payne, Deborah Hasty, and Mary Eiland, the first female students to receive CMC diplomas in 1978. “Many of the women in that first class turned the urinals into planters in their bathrooms,” recalls Susan M. King ‘85, one of Claremont McKenna College’s female ‘pioneer’ students. While ‘pacesetter’ refers to the first three generations of female students, ‘pioneers’ refer to every generation of female students who applied to Claremont Men’s College. Just about 50 years ago, in April of 1975, 28 out of 41 trustees at Claremont Men’s College voted to admit female students to the college. Despite this shift to coeducation, it would not be until 1981 that the institution’s name would change from Claremont Men’s College to Claremont McKenna College (CMC). “All of us in the class of ‘85 picked Claremont Men's College to appear on our diploma,” King told me, “because that was the school we applied to.” However, even after the admission of female students and the shift in name, by no means were the first female students at CMC guaranteed gender equality at the college. The path towards equality was bumpy. Like King, Lisa A. McCaffery ‘86 applied to Claremont Men’s College but was accepted to Claremont McKenna College. McCaffery and her peers encountered a mix of skepticism and resistance from some of the older faculty. McCaffery told me, “I felt like there were definitely still some of the older faculty members walking around with a chip on their shoulder because there were female students.” Reflecting on her time at CMC, McCaffery commented, “Being a minority, I had to learn to speak up for myself and learn to ask for what I wanted.” Carrie George ‘80 shared a similar experience.  “He didn’t even give us a chance,” she said of her marketing professor. “He didn’t want us there; he didn’t like us, very dismissive.” CMC’s first female students experienced sexism—ranging from microaggressions to instances of blatant aggression. The first year of coeducation, male students wore t-shirts saying ‘Get Cunts off Campus.’ George described female students’ responses to hostility: “They laughed at it! I wasn’t as offended in retrospect as I should have been. When you are 1 of 35 women in a school of 800 people, just your presence is breaking the mold, and trying to go further than that is really hard.” While most women described some level of gendered barriers, seemingly all of them spoke highly of CMC’s transition to co-ed. “I think the school really welcomed women with open arms,” Mari Adams ‘80 recalled. George shared similar sentiments: “CMC really was a place where I built lifetime friendships; many of them that are still really present today. So, I loved it.” While these women were pioneers and pacesetters, they were also just students like us—sometimes struggling just to keep up. Reflecting on her time at CMC, McCaffery recalls “a series of hard disappointments.” One of the most surprising disappointments was during her swimming exam that CMC previously required. “When I jumped in the pool to take my swim test and got to the other end, I had the basketball coach who was administering the test that day bending over and saying to me, ‘Young lady, you are far too young to be this out of breath and uncoordinated in swimming,” McCaffery shared. King shared her challenges adjusting to CMC’s student body: “All of a sudden you’re with a whole new echelon of really smart people, really accomplished people. And people who have had life experiences that are just you've never been exposed to it before.” But while her peers challenged her, she noted that “You don't know how big you can dream until you hear from other people and learn what their dreams are.” King also shared her financial struggles: “I worked all four years to help pay for college. And it was just a lot. And it was the first time I really struggled in the classroom. So that was a very difficult situation.” King recalled that she worked many part-time jobs, including at the mailroom. While CMC students today know the mailroom as “Story House,” King shed light on what Story House looked like for older generations of CMC students: “The first students at CMC were living in Story House, which was actually a farmhouse on Green beach. That's what Story House actually was. There was a woman who had an orchard and donated her house. And so the people lived in the basement; they took their meals on the ground floor.” King continued that these men “had Quonset huts: they built this temporary housing. Some people lived in the basement of Bridges Auditorium. I mean, this was a scrappy, can-do group.” It can be surprising to reflect on just how recently CMC’s all-men’s college filled with Quonset huts transitioned into co-education. While educational and workplace gender integration seems firmly established today, CMC women just decades older than us faced schools and workplaces with rapidly changing gender norms. Adams reflected, “You don't realize how recently things changed.” She described her first job after CMC: “I went into the Foreign Service only a few years before they changed the rules, so women did not have to resign when they got married.” She continued, “In my first diplomatic assignment, I was the only female diplomat in the country.” Even today, Adams discussed how “professional women always do this in financial meetings, you'll look around in a seminar room and start counting the women. I think we all do it. And just to see like, what is it? Ten percent? Twenty percent?” While the obstacles faced by the first female students at CMC might seem irrelevant today, the current absence of such obstacles serves as an important reminder of how quickly social change can occur on our campus. Hopefully, this serves to motivate present and future students in their pursuit of educational equity.

On a dirt road in Ukraine, a Russian soldier lays motionless. No tanks, trucks, or fellow soldiers are around to see or help. The only evidence of his fate, like many others, was caught on enemy cameras. The scene, filmed by a drone, is a reality many soldiers in the conflict have come to dread. The unexpected: the popularity of their final moments on social media. In the internet era, it is widely acknowledged that drones are multifaceted weapons. They conduct reconnaissance, gather intelligence, and can be weaponized to blow things up. But they are also playing a role in propaganda – trying to embolden one nation and dispirit another. Just like Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky used Facebook and Instagram early in the war to galvanize national fervor, drone footage is now utilized to demonstrate strength and boost morale. Drone footage provides the world a visceral view of the front lines. “That’s a good thing, in that it improves our awareness of what is happening, and how awful and terrifying this type of war can be,” Hal Brands, senior fellow at the American Enterprise Institute and Bloomberg columnist, wrote over email. But Brands and others are urging spectators to view with caution. “The caveat is that … people and countries release FPV footage for a reason – so you have to treat this footage with all the caution you’d treat any info released by a belligerent.” Now more than ever, videos of active warfare are surfacing from battlefield conflicts. Unlike previous conflicts, national governments are the ones posting the footage to the internet. In Ukraine in particular, footage from drones known as first-person view (FPV) drones are capturing this footage. The drones have been instrumental in the conflict – so much that Zelensky formed the Unmanned Systems Force in February. The launch was part of the Brave1 initiative, in which the Zelensky administration has brought together technology companies to collaborate on strategic weaponry. The latest arm of the nation’s military is wholly dedicated to the advancement of Ukraine’s growing drone sector. First-person view drones transmit video via a lightweight camera to a display, typically a tablet or digitized goggles. Nearby pilots can switch between viewing methods to avoid interference from signal jamming. The feedback allows the pilot to maneuver the device in real time from a remote location. Last year, Ukraine’s military expanded its drone network over a hundredfold. “We are witnessing the next stage of the so called phenomena of a ‘CNN War,’” wrote Oleksiy Melnyk, co-director of the Razumkov Centre, an international studies think tank in Ukraine. This next stage does not require traditional media outlets to air the content. Today, anyone with internet access can watch countless people die and mass destruction on social media. Moreover, anyone who watches this footage can comment on the videos and “like” them. Social media platforms do not vet the videos. Casualties have become casual. On X, a popular page which posts FPV content is Defense of Ukraine (@DefenseU) – with over 18,300 posts and more than two million followers. This page claims to be the “official page of the Ministry of Defense of Ukraine.” Two videos, with a combined 300,000 views, show the bombing of manned Russian tanks, capturing the final moments of soldiers’ lives amid billowing plumes of smoke. Comments on one video include "absolutely stunning!", "Those secondary explosions ... are just goddam beautiful” and “... Leave nothing but trails of destruction.” But in a video destroying Russian artillery, some comments take a quite different approach, such as, “Can we have a peace treaty?,” “I never thought a day would come when we will be proud of destroying each other” and “This is pretty vile when you think about it. Taking joy in the death of others.” P.W. Singer, a strategist at the think tank New America and author of numerous books on warfare, acknowledged the propagandistic nature of the posts: “The FPV video only shows what the poster wants you to see, akin to someone posting only the best parts of their life on Instagram or TikTok.” Former U.S. Ambassador to Ukraine Steven Pifer said that “Ukrainians make a lot of drone footage available … to show that they can hold their own against a larger and better equipped Russian army.” The videos, he believes, are directed toward citizens and governments of Western nations. What seems clear is that the footage is popular because it portrays a spectacle previously unseen. Singer noted that the videos promote a new type of “perverse fandom” of war. In stark contrast, however, Pifer emphasized over email that while “these are not video games” and “real human beings are getting killed,” the reality is that “war is inhumane.” Both statements serve as grim reminders of what is behind the footage – human suffering.

Paul Krugman, of Krugman's Economics for the AP® Course, was cupid. And falling for economics, it seemed, was destiny—the two of us meant for each other, and for nobody else, and forever. Production possibilities curve. Business cycle. Reserve requirement. In senior year, economics whispered sweet nothings into my ears, and something switched over inside. Here’s what followed: commitment to CMC, a post-arrival change of intended major to economics, a brief (and fearsome) toying with the data science sequence. Banished was any thought of the humanities, the “soft” disciplines for the faint-of-heart. Our world, apparently, is divided into the quantitatively-minded, and all the rest—and it seemed, then, of radical importance to fall into the first category, rather than be swept up into the “underclass.” Gosh, it felt excellent to be “quant.” People take you seriously, when you tell them you’re an aspiring economics major. Numbers? “Don’t worry,” you’re able to say (suave, confident, dripping with nerdy appeal)—“Let me crunch ‘em.” At family dinners, there’d be predictable talk of the “political and economic state of the world” (to quote Jaden Smith). And naturally, people turned to me for answers. After all, nobody else was acquainted with the models we’d built in ECON101. No one else at the table regularly used calculus. And, as everyone knows, taking derivatives a few times each week elevates a person to demigod status. Most of the world is god-awful at math. And the population of our country is especially innumerate; according to the National Assessment of Adult Literacy, only 13% of Americans score in the “proficient” range for numeracy, and 22% of adults fall into the “below basic” abilities category. Maybe that’s why the possession of “quantitative skills” means something—it sets you apart. A simple principle—scarcity—explains why the finance-bros get to sit at the table with the “alphas.” Plenty of students spend entire academic careers avoiding algebra; some, understandably, tap out at geometry. But, when you’re an economics major, you’re one of the few who’s elected to keep company with numbers for four whole years—sometimes, even, to add, subtract, multiply, and divide these numbers. And, because you’re engaged in higher level mathematics, there will be letters involved, too. But these aren’t the letters with which “the arts” amuse themselves—these are number-adjacent letters. Anyway, in the “respect for one’s intellectual ability” hierarchy, the economics majors are close to the top. Being there wasn’t a familiar feeling. Up until senior year—the year economics presented itself—it had always been the humanities, for me. Sure, math mattered—the California state curriculum wasn’t wrong in insisting we all “PEMDAS-ed” until the bell delivered us to lunch. And yet, there were other subjects—history, English, music, art—which woke me up, and interrupted the sleep-deprived stupor of those eight-hour days. Part of me hadn’t ever felt right admitting this, though. People don’t “ooh” and “ahh” when you tell them you’re in love with writing, or Peter Paul Rubens’ paintings, or the poetry of Donald Hall. Because, well, it’s unclear where the career prospects lie for a person whose passions are utterly un-monetizable. And, apparently, there’s nothing “to” these subjects. Where’s the struggle? Where’s the rigor? When you’re into quantitative subjects, you’re obviously brainy. When you’re into the Defenestration of Prague, you’re destined for malemployment. Not just anyone can “do” mathematics. Anyone can be “into” the Defenestration of Prague. Most people just possess the good sense not to be. So, something inside resisted. To be “non-quant,” it seemed, was to be only half of a person. Preferring the arts or humanities signals, to everyone else, your character flaws. To begin with, you’re probably “bad at math.” And, though most people are “bad” at math, it’s a cutting accusation. Even if you beat these allegations, it’s “naivete” you’re charged with; you’re presumed oblivious to your talents’ utter lack of utility. Or worse, you’re uncooperative—defiantly clinging to your societally un-sanctioned interests. Plenty of “non-quant” rule-followers find themselves leading double-lives, sitting in economics courses, wishing to be across campus, doing anything else. Eventually, though, some of them—some of us—pluck up the courage (or lose all patience), and admit: we’re going to major in philosophy. Of course, it takes admitting it to yourself, first—that you’d do alright as an economics major, and yet you’d regret it if you spent four years manipulating Excel spreadsheets, instead of unlocking the secrets of the universe. And then, you’ve got to admit it to everyone else—everyone you tried to fool. Breaking the news won’t always feel good. Sometimes, you’ll get this response: “Wow. Thoughts for the future?” and you’ll spiral a bit. (If everyone else is deeply concerned about you, should you be deeply concerned about you?) And yet, you’ve got to do what you like; it’s all you can do. Half of all marriages end in divorce. Mine, with economics, ended, too. Neither of us were to blame. Economics would’ve made another person (or even half of the college) very happy. Sometimes, though, you’re simply set free by your lover, given up. And when you’ve moved on, finally, and the heartache subsides, you realize what you should’ve known all along. See, there’s this economics concept: comparative advantage. And it explains why companies, countries, and individuals benefit from trade—one entity is just better at offering up a particular good or service. So, you find your niche, and you run with it. And everyone’s better off. Some people do the quantitative thing, and others do the non-quantitative thing, and then you get together and share. And well, if economics taught me anything, it was this: finding my comparative advantage meant looking elsewhere.

On Monday, March 4th, join your candidates at 10:30 pm during Collins Snack for ASCMC positions as they present their personalities, philosophies, and platforms for their tenure as your elected ASCMC representatives! Voting will be open to the whole school starting 11:59 pm on March 4th and will be open for 20 hours, ending at 8:00 pm, March 5th. Read more to learn about the specifics of each candidate, and their hopes, dreams, and aspirations for ASCMC and the broader CMC community. Here are your candidates for ASCMC elections: Student Body President Ava Kopp Executive Vice President Ryunosuke Nakase Mateo Colbert Vice President of Student Activities Carson Bloom Dormitory Affairs Chair Senior Class President Victoria Williams Junior Class President Kylee Tevis Sophomore Class President Amrit Dhaliwal Zubin Khera Student Body President Candidates AVA KOPP Hello CMC! I'm Ava Kopp, and I'm excited to announce my candidacy for the position of Student Body President. Throughout my involvement in ASCMC, I've held the role of Junior Class President, Boswell’s Dorm President (#BosIsBack), and a senator on the Student Life Senate Committee. As your potential student body president, I am committed to the values of community, vision, and accountability. Over the past semesters, I've engaged with numerous students, gathering insights on a range of issues, including advocacy, events, dining, community engagement, and residential concerns. Clearly, there’s no shortage of action items, and the spectrum of suggestions highlights the varied needs of our community. My track record as class president reflects my dedication to listening to my peers and taking actionable steps to fulfill their ideas. For instance, in response to concerns about dining hall options, I initiated the ASCMC Collins Committee, collaborating with our dining staff and student volunteers to implement improvements like the chicken caprese sandwich, acai bowls, build-your-own pizza, and a mac-n-cheese bar. Recognizing the importance of community and connection in the college experience, I am committed to advocating for a wide array of campus events. Additionally, equity, diversity, and belonging are central to my work within ASCMC. If elected, I will continue supporting our affinity groups and marginalized communities within the student body. While the following list is not exhaustive, some key areas I plan to advocate for include affinity group budgeting, dining enhancements, affordable laundry options, support for transfer students, the implementation of a tap ID system, and promoting greater transparency and accountability within ASCMC to benefit the broader student body. I look forward to the opportunity to serve as your student body president and address these issues collaboratively with the CMC community. Executive Vice President Candidates RYUNOSUKE NAKASE For those that I haven’t had the chance to meet, my name is Ryu Nakase, and I’m running to be your next Executive Vice President! Over the past year and a half, I’ve had the immense pleasure of serving as the First Year and Sophomore Class President for the awesome class of 2026. From planning pre games, social events like the weekly Sophomore S'mores and the ‘26 Dating Game, to sending out my ‘26 Weekly News, I’ve had a blast. (I actually loved writing my weekly emails, so you know I’ll send great Senate emails every week!) I could go on and on about the work my cabinet and I’ve done these past two terms, but instead, I encourage you to talk to the ‘26ers! As EVP, I want to make changes on a broader school wide level. I want to build upon the great progress made during the past two administrations I’ve experienced while making changes to the parts that need improvement. Like a good paper, here’s an outline of my thoughts: 1. Revitalization of the Senate Something I love about the Senate is that it's the “People’s House.” It’s a place where any CMC student can voice their concerns and vote on numerous items, but an issue that the Senate has historically faced is student engagement. Your voices deserve to be heard, and I want to realize the democratic dream of the Senate. While changes in culture can achieve this, it can also be fickle. Within 4 years, a whole new CMC will exist, which is why I plan on creating institutional change toward achieving a better Senate. 2. Creating Traditions through Yearly School Wide Programming Kara Hagler has done a phenomenal job during this term as the EVP by taking on a more proactive role by planning fun school-wide programs, and this is something that I definitely want to continue. Hosting a dodgeball tournament to working with Priceless Pets to bring dogs onto campus to having a Mardi Gras dinner at the Ath, these are things that I want us to have the opportunity to experience every year and more! 3. Strengthening Relationships with Clubs and Organizations on Campus ASCMC stands for the Associated Students of Claremont McKenna College, meaning that it’s a body that is meant to serve the people (that’s you!) and that includes CMC clubs and organizations as well. Something I’ve noticed throughout my time here is the strained relationship between ASCMC and CMC Clubs and Organizations. I want to create a space where ASCMC and Clubs and Orgs can productively collaborate to better serve the student body. 4. Getting more Grassy Terrain With the installment of the Qwalala, we lost a huge amount of green spaces in Mid Quad. While I won’t promise you that I’ll get it back, because I can’t, I want to find alternative solutions so that the only grassy area where large events, both alcoholic and non-alcoholic, isn’t Green Beach (Green Beach, I still love you though). 5. Tap Access on CMC IDs for Dining Halls Similar to quality of life improvements (like small bugs game developers fail to fix), this is something that has plagued our student body. While unkept promises have been sung before, this is something that I want to actually implement. While it may not be a huge deal to swipe our cards instead of tapping them, given that the rest of the 5C colleges can swipe their cards, I want to give us the same privilege. As a fellow CMCer, these are issues that I believe will make our time at CMC better, and if you have any ideas or suggestions, I would be more than happy to hear your thoughts! Yours truly, The 5’ 6’’ Japanese man from Hawaii (the other one) Ryu Nakase MATEO COLBERT Hello my People! My name is Mateo Colbert and I am running to be your Executive Vice President (EVP). I am currently a junior who used to be a freshman. As a freshman, the first thing that jumped out at me was the community offered here at CMC. I was surprised to learn that ‘way back when,’ the community at CMC was even closer. I have found that some of the best information I’ve gotten, and learning I’ve done on this campus has been through my peers and friends. My main goal is to increase the sense of community here at CMC. How? Prior to the pandemic, there was a capture-the-flag game on Parents Field between grades. I’m committed to bringing this back, as it could further increase inter-year camaraderie. I’d like to maintain pre-sporting event tailgates. I’d also like to implement student-faculty workshops so that students may learn more about their professors, courses, and campus prospects. Now, there are some grumblings about EVP being a role whose sole focus is our ASCMC Senate… These grumblings do hold a degree of validity. A goal of some prior EVP candidates included increasing interest, turnout, and the efficiency of senate meetings. There are a plethora of things that could be done within the Senate to try to increase the three aforementioned items. ASCMC has a lot of agency, and as EVP, I would try to diversify the weekly Senate topics. This semester, I tried to implement candidate debates. While not feasible this year, I’d like to revisit it next year and shout out Kaitlyn and Kara for planning a town hall instead. However, the first thing I would do to increase interest, turnout, and efficiency is foster community engagement.  A close community is an effective community. I would be honored to represent you, the students of Claremont McKenna. I am asking for your trust, your support, and your vote. I am dedicated to serving this community, and further fostering unity between the CMC student body. Vice President of Student Activities Candidates CARSON BLOOM Hello everyone, I’m Carson Bloom, a sophomore from Whitefish, Montana, running to be the next Vice President of Student Activities! I first got involved with the Events Team my freshman year. I soon became the Director of Events, a position which works closely with the VPSA (they are basically their assistant) in planning all ASCMC hosted and sponsored events including Pirate Palooza, Wedding Party, 601, and Club Claremont to name a few. As the next VPSA, I’ve got a list of initiatives I plan to tackle. First, I’ll ensure we retain our prized traditions. Last year we had to fight to allow seniors to spray champagne at 601. It’s a tradition I will continue to fight to preserve like so many others that make CMC the college we all love (most of the time at least)! Second, we’re all aware that most TNCs and smaller parties simply aren’t what CMC students want. I’m going to reallocate a portion of my budget to buy fog machines, lasers, lights, and new bluetooth speakers. I hope to start a loan program where students can borrow the equipment they need to host their own small party, and the ASCMC Events Team will support them in doing so. Third, when we do host smaller events such as a Halloween Party on a Thursday night, I want to make them 5C. We’ve all had the experience of showing up to a Mudd or Pomona party only to be denied entrance due to capacity or because we don’t go to the respective school. While wristbanding is a good way to prevent overcrowding at large Saturday events, we don’t need to make our Thursday night ones exclusive. They’re a lot more fun when there are 200 people there from across the 5Cs rather than 50 from CMC. Fourth, I’ve created a list of DJs from across the 5Cs. We are currently up to about 25. My goal with the DJ list is to ensure that CMC always has the best DJs for our major 5C events, whether they be from CMC or one of the other 5Cs. Here’s a few more ideas for specific events. Pong table-making event (we provide tables and paint supplies, you paint the table) Slip and slide on Green Beach (it's been done in the past) Air fresheners for Snowglobe, Monte Carlo, and Club Claremont (lol) Collaborate with CPB to ensure there are substance free offerings on busy party weekends Work with the ASCMC President to get tappable student ID cards (why are we the only ones who can’t tap our cards?!!) If there’s anything else you would like to see changed about how ASCMC Events are run or if you have a great idea please reach out @ cbloom26@cmc.edu Senior Class President Candidates VICTORIA WILLIAMS Hello Class of 2025! My name is Tori and I am super excited to be running for Senior Class President. A little bit about me: I am an Econ-Accounting major with a sequence in Leadership, I was born and raised in the Seattle-area, and I have a passion for contributing to the CMC community in any way I can! The biggest goal of mine is to help make our senior year together the most memorable yet. Whether this be through events, class bonding, or off-campus outings, senior class traditions, or brand new ideas and initiatives, I am committed to bringing your ideal senior year experience to life. I've spent the past two years on the ASCMC Events Team, first as Director of Event Operations, and then as Vice President of Student Activities. So, I do have a good amount of existing experience and institutional knowledge when it comes to event execution, which will come in handy when planning 200 Days, 100 Days, Thesis Party, and more. Although, I do understand that my responsibility as Senior Class President encompasses far more than just these staple events. I'll make it my top priority to maintain transparency, focusing on your feedback and ideas in order to cultivate a senior class culture filled with collaboration, community, and fun! If you have specific goals or changes that you'd like to see within our class -- or the CMC community as a whole -- I always want to be an accessible resource. So come talk to me at senate or executive board meetings, or if you see me around campus (my frequent spots are Appleby Lounge and the Hub). Thank you and I hope to receive your vote of confidence! :) Junior Class President Candidates KYLEE TEVIS This is how excited I am to be junior class president! Sophomore Class President Candidates AMRIT DHALIWAL "And so, my fellow [CMCers]: Ask not what your [school] can do for you – ask what you can do for your [school]. My fellow citizens of the world: Ask not what [CMC] will do for you, but what together we can do for the freedom of man. -JFK" -Amrit Dhaliwal ZUBIN KHERA Hello again, Class of 27! Chances are, you've stumbled upon the words above in your inbox over the past school year as you've sifted through campus updates and upcoming events to stay in the loop. Well, those emails were from me! Serving as your first-year class president has been an absolute blast! We've thrown some epic parties, bonded over Roommate Trivia sessions, spread love with Candy Grams, and so much more! However, let's keep it real—despite our best efforts, politicians lie, and I was no exception to this rule. I wasn’t able to touch on all the goals I had set out to accomplish this term. Stepping into the office is one thing, but understanding the inner workings of CMC's machine is a whole different ball game. It took me about two months to really grasp the powers and responsibilities of my role before I could start making tangible changes. So, here's the deal: let's skip the crash course, and I promise that we can hit the ground running for the rest of this year and next year! If Freshman Year was all about meeting your peers, my focus this year is strengthening those bonds by hosting even more fun-filled events that scream friendship! Think more off-campus adventures, more class pregames, and more excitement just for you! If you support fun, friendship, and festivities, then you support Zubin! Help me make your sophomore as awesome as possible! Hear more about my ideas at the candidate town hall this Monday at 8 p.m. or during speeches at the late-night snack on March 4th. Get Zub-In office!

On Tuesday, March 5, 2024, CMC students participated in an online election to select their representatives for the 2024-2025 Associated Students of Claremont McKenna College (ASCMC). With a voter turnout of 49.05%, 668 out of 1362 eligible students cast their ballots. The ASCMC announced the election results via email just 30 minutes after the polls closed at 8 pm. Ava Kopp, the Junior Class President, was elected as the new Student Body President in an uncontested race, securing 584 of the 688 votes cast. Her agenda includes enhancing the college’s social life by catering to diverse event preferences, addressing student clubs' budgetary concerns, and fostering improvements in the student experience through partnerships with various campus entities. Kopp emphasized her commitment to listening and serving the CMC student body, stating, "Part of ASCMC’s role is to facilitate campus improvements—both tangible and intangible—beginning with active listening to student voices. We aim to develop a comprehensive feedback and communication strategy this year." The Executive Vice President race was narrowly won by Sophomore Class President Ryunosuke “Ryu” Nakase, who garnered 327 votes (56.19%), edging out Mateo Colbert’s 255 votes (43.81%). Carson Bloom, running unopposed, was elected as Vice President of Student Activities with 485 votes. Bloom intends to diversify social offerings, focusing on more inclusive and varied events, including day parties and club-sponsored activities. He aims to rejuvenate CMC’s social scene, which has waned due to COVID-19, by laying the groundwork for sustained improvement and revival. In the contest for Dormitory Affairs Chair, Aleeza Saeed defeated Avinash (Avi) Rangarajan with 249 votes (52.75%) to 223 votes (47.25%). Victoria (Tori) Williams was elected without opposition, receiving 130 votes, for the Senior Class President position. In the race for Junior Class President, Kylee Tevis won against Donovan Davidson, securing 109 votes (60.89%) to Davidson’s 70 votes (39.11%). The Sophomore Class President position was clinched by Amrit Dhaliwal, who bested First Year Class President Zubin Khera with 93 votes (52.25%) against 85 votes (46.75%). Elections for the Class of 2028’s First Year Class President will be held in the upcoming fall semester.

“Clearly, menstruation would become an enviable, worthy, masculine event: Men would brag about how long and how much. Young boys would talk about it as the envied beginning of manhood… Congress would fund a National Institute of Dysmenorrhea. Doctors would research little about heart attacks, from which men would be hormonally protected, but everything about cramps. Sanitary supplies would be federally funded and free. Of course, some men would still pay for the prestige of such commercial brands as Paul Newman Tampons, Muhammad Ali’s Rope-a-Dope Pads, [and] John Wayne Maxi Pads.” — AN EXCERPT FROM "IF MEN COULD MENSTRUATE" BY GLORIA STEINEM Why is it that even at our elite liberal arts college, we’re unable to say, “I’m having debilitating period cramps and cannot make it to class?” It is not news that CMC was a men’s college. How different would our campus and country look if men were the ones menstruating? If Robert Day menstruated, Roberts Pavilion would have sanitary napkins and tampons available in every restroom. We would have ‘period friendly’ workout classes. If stags menstruated, we would have TNCs celebrating their synced menstruation cycles (themed cocktails would be Bloody Mary, of course). The Hub and Huntley would sell tampons, duh. RAs would keep tampons outside their rooms, in addition to condoms and candy. For decades, women have popped painkillers and gone to work without missing a beat. We’ve whispered in hushed tones to ask for tampons. Our society rewards women for ‘being like men’, expecting menstruating people to ‘just deal with it’ and suffer through cramps, fatigue, headaches, and mood swings — all with a smile on our face. We make up excuses such as, “I’m sick/I have the flu/I have a headache” instead of simply saying, “I have terrible cramps.” Conversations around periods are taboo. They are avoided to not make others (usually men) feel uncomfortable. Would you feel uncomfortable if a colleague said, “We’re going to have to postpone because I’m having debilitating period cramps”? Would you, then, think they just need to toughen up? Take a painkiller and get going? Many in our community may suffer from polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS) or dysmenorrhea (painful cramps). According to the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, More than half of the people who menstruate have some pain for 1-2 days each month. According to research by John Guillebaud, a professor of reproductive health at University College London, severe pain during periods can be equal to that of a heart attack. Additionally, these statistics and conversations around menstruation are largely exclusionary, failing to include transgender, gender non-binary and genderqueer folks. We cannot claim to be a forward-thinking institution and not talk about menstruation. Granted, there are people who have higher pain thresholds or do not get excruciating period cramps, but to be truly inclusive, we must acknowledge that our bodies are built differently. Those who menstruate (women, transgender and gender non-binary folks) have a set of extra challenges than those who don’t. It is a matter of equity. I am not only advocating for students, but for the college’s staff and faculty members as well. This pandemic has pushed us to work from home and use various asynchronous methods of instruction and learning – many of which can be included to accommodate period leaves. However, this still would not be enough. The option to work from home is a privilege. We need to find better solutions for our building attendants and dining hall staff – many of whom are women of color. Many faculty and staff also might be going through menopause, which causes hot flashes, headaches. This is something we neither account for nor talk about at all. We should have sanitary napkins and tampons available in the restrooms. We should have more conversations, surveying students, faculty and staff on how to address their needs. We should consider it normal and acceptable when someone needs to be excused from class or postpone a meeting because they have terrible cramps and cannot get out of bed. Maybe next year, we can have period pain simulator machines along with the massage tables on campus! We should be talking about periods, and we must begin now.

If I walked up to people and asked them if they cared about inclusivity, I think most people would say yes. The problem is, I don’t think CMCers fully understand what inclusivity takes. Inclusivity requires sacrifice. We don’t talk about this, because we want to convince ourselves that it's easy to do, so that it's palatable and easy to support. But it’s not. Inclusion means that the most privileged among us sacrifice something to level the playing field. Sometimes the sacrifice is a little easier, like restructuring a party you love, and sometimes the sacrifice is a little harder, like... you know, your grades during a global pandemic. I’m not surprised that CMCers don’t seem behind a universal pass/incomplete policy. We aren’t very good at giving up what we want for the good of the entire student body. To be very clear, the only equitable policy was a universal pass or universal pass/incomplete. Would it have hurt some people trying to boost their GPAs? Yes. Would it have leveled the playing field for the students most hurt by quarantine? Also yes. Why is it only disadvantaged students who are publicly outraged? Where is everyone else? But this misconception goes far beyond grading policy, as many students already know. It’s clear in moments as innocuous as Dry Week and our party culture. Students aren’t able to give up their one moment of fun, and respect Dry Week, to make sure that orientation is actually inclusive. Dry Week, among other things, means that everyone is able to socialize on an equal footing, regardless of whether or not they drink. If everyone respected it, there wouldn’t be some students who felt that they didn’t belong because they don’t like to drink, or even just don’t always want to. And it's not just first years, it's also not clear to FYGs that it's more important to model an inclusive culture than to look cool in front of your FYGlets and drink with them during the first week of school. The misconception comes out in FYGs wanting to take shots with their FYGlets at 6:01, it comes out in the racial divide at parties (typically based on music/location), it comes out in who we see on Green Beach. And the problem isn’t so much that EDM is played at parties or that people love being on Green Beach. People are definitely allowed to do what makes them happy, but it's really a question of how often there’s been a discussion of why certain demographics aren’t comfortable in those spaces, and what we’re actively doing to fix that. The ASCMC events team (and Quantum Records) can do all they want to program in a way that allows a more diverse range of people to engage, but it won’t fully work until all students start critically engaging with why they feel comfortable in certain spaces while their peers don’t. Why do certain people naturally feel more at home at the Athenaeum than others? It's not random. Do we really expect women and students of color to feel as comfortable when they see themselves reflected in speakers’ identities less frequently than their other peers? Do we really expect low income students to feel comfortable when they might’ve had to buy clothes just to attend? What if they can’t afford dress code friendly attire? They have to go to DOS and explain their circumstances, and already they get a different social experience at CMC. Is the Ath formality a fun part of the experience for some people? Yes. Does it make a lot of already marginalized students feel out of place? Of course it does. We seem to have some trouble understanding that none of this is random. Giving people equality of opportunity is not the same as giving them equality of experience. Sure, everyone can apply to a research institute. But, who naturally sees themselves in those positions? Who already knows how to write cover letters? Who already knows what they want when they come to college? And we know this, we’ve talked about this. And yet, how many organizations reach out to affinity groups? How many organizations have cover letter workshops? How many organizations push back fall hiring? Yes, it’s inconvenient. Yes, it’s difficult. Yes, maybe you’ll lose your implicit and irrelevant competition to get more applicants than other organizations. But does that really matter? Sometimes it’s just a question of caring enough to engage. Last year, Hong Kong was burning, India occupied Kashmir, there were massacres in Delhi, protests in Lebanon, Chile, Brazil, Honduras, Iran, Iraq. That’s not close to a complete list. Chances are, you know someone from one of these places. With numbers near 20% of the population, international students are one of CMC’s largest minorities. When something terrible happens in the US, domestic students have a community to support them. How many international students had to remain isolated as their homes were, in some cases, quite literally on fire? And of course, it all starts even before orientation. It starts at the legacy admissions. It starts at the schools the admissions office visits to recruit students. It starts at what prospective students see on our social media. And it falls on all of us to do something. As college students, we have power and privilege. It's easy to forget the weight of the responsibility that one should feel along with the privilege. For a lot of people, there isn’t an excuse for the inaction. Those with the most privilege have the most responsibility. But unfortunately, even those without significant privilege carry a responsibility simply by attending elite institutions. For some of us, we get to justify our place in these institutions. We get to say that we’re representing marginalized communities. But are we really? Representation is an active job. Representing our marginalized communities isn’t working for a company that had contracts with ICE. Representing our marginalized communities isn’t supporting policies that disproportionately harm them. Representing our marginalized communities isn’t forgetting you’re a part of it once you get to CMC. Representing your community means actively working to make sure you’re elevating the disadvantaged people around you. And yes, a lot of responsibility lies with institutions to support students and push for inclusion. But similar to what happened with grading policy, an administration can only create change when a student body demands it. If our student body does not start acting in the interest of inclusion, we will never have it. Inclusivity is active, and every single person needs to be invested.