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WE MAY HAVE won a victory, but we haven't won the war. This past fall, the Board of Visitors voted unanimously to uphold the University's current race-conscious admissions policy, despite outside pressure from right wing groups, specifically the ironically named Center for Equal Opportunity, to eliminate the policy. Supporters of affirmative action programs heralded the Board's decision as a definitive victory, supporting the right to consider race, gender, ethnicity and socioeconomic level as a factor -- though not as a determinant -- in admissions decisions. Unfortunately, the future of affirmative action-type programs at the University may not be as certain as some might think, as other states have voted similar programs out of their universities.
AS THE SUN dipped down below, a fiery band of scarlet encompassed the horizon, endowing the quickly deadening sky with a moment of subtle beauty. As I sat in Newcomb Plaza, between the Bookstore and the Pav, I felt inspired by the gentle and unassuming magnificence of the sunset. A woman standing next to me commented on it, saying that she felt like the sunset fit the evening's mood just right -- a great evening to be out rallying for a great candidate, Bill Bradley.
Americans like having lots of things to choose from. When they go out to eat, Americans want a restaurant that has a great variety of different items on the menu. When they go into record stores, they like to browse through vast isles of glossy disc covers, looking for that one perfect CD. And when Americans go to cast their votes for president next November, they would probably like to have a wide range of candidates to choose from, not just two.
THE SKY outside may be a drab shade of gray, but the politics of the day quickly have become a matter of black and white. As the primary season moves along to big game states such as California, New York and the Super Tuesday mega-primary, presidential hopefuls on both sides of the partisan divide are racing to garner support from racial and ethnic groups, specifically black voters.
CONCORD, N.H.-Concord, New Hampshire is a funky place, existing simultaneously as a small, rural town - like the ones shown in picture books of New England - and as an ever-changing, newly affluent pop culture city of the future. All along Concord's Main Street, elements of both worlds - weather-worn marble buildings with 200-year old cornerstones; blindly white, fresh-painted walls in coffee bars - co-mingle in a kind of retro-chic heterogeneity. It is a kind of crossroads where the old meets the new, the conservative faces the outlandish (George W. Bush's headquarters is next to a lingerie store), the standard meets the unstable, the tried meets the trying.
DID YOU ever hear the one about the guy with the hook for a hand who murdered all those people? It's a true story; I heard it from my uncle.
LAST YEAR, I witnessed a crime being committed. It wasn't your typical crime, nor did it happen in your typical criminal setting. It didn't happen in a dark alley or along an abandoned stretch of road, but rather in the midst of a 1,000 bright-eyed and bushy-tailed teens, anxiously waiting for the beginning of another Friday night football game.
HEY YOU! Yeah, you standing over there! What are you doing with those campaign flyers? Don't you know that you can't hand those out here? This is a college!
BOOM, BOOM, boom. The hardwood floor of the Boar's Head Inn ballroom shook from the thundering bass. The temperature rose as people poured in. The din was deafening. The party had begun.
YOU LEARN a lot if you weigh 130 pounds and play center. You learn that getting out of the way hurts as much as getting in the way. You learn a little bit about locomotion and friction, and a lot about impact. And because you learn all this, you learn to play dirty. Real dirty. Real fast.
EVEN WITH sunglasses, I still barely could see. My eyes throbbed as I squinted, translucent pearls formed on my forehead, my shirt stuck to me like overcooked pancakes to an ungreased frying pan. Five minutes into the game and twice defeated, twice forced to kick off, 14 points the deficit. Unbearable.