I love you, Wahoos — and every single falsity below makes me love you all the more.
Sitting by a table at an indoor courtyard in New Orleans, an older woman with wispy gray hair and a slight hunch approached me. “There’s a dead body under that tree, you know,” she said, gesturing to the pot next to me. I did not know.
Sometimes we say meaningless things. Take, for example, the “sorry circle.” Someone accidentally gets in your way and says, “Sorry!” to make up for it — but it really wasn’t a big deal to begin with.
This past week, I was given a truly extraordinary gift. With the help of 54 friends, a humble leader and some of the most joyful children I have ever had the pleasure of meeting, I rediscovered simplicity.
I have a slightly embarrassing confession to make. A couple of weeks ago, I went to my first real, full-length a cappella concert.
In a moment in between midterm-induced nail biting and Clemson-dwelling, my friends and I retreated to Newcomb for a quick lunch.
The other day, one of my friends claimed there was no such thing as an awkward situation. She argued it is a socially constructed idea, existing only inside people’s minds. Perhaps that is true — but then, is this not enough to make awkwardness a reality?
First-year College student Schuyler Ebersol did not have a normal high school experience. For three years he was extremely sick, rendering him unable to walk or attend school. To fill his time, he began writing.
Newly-founded student organization NETwork Against Malaria has been hard at work this semester fundraising for life-saving bed nets for children and pregnant women of rural Uganda.
Friendship is easy, lust is even easier, but love is really hard to find
After most students set off for Spring Break March 7, members of the Ethiopian Student Union stayed behind in Charlottesville to raise money for the Ethiopian Rural Hospital Initiative.
In high school, I don’t think it would have ever occurred to me to feel grateful for my spot in a classroom.
I pull down the top of my screen and a cartoon yak turns around on itself. I look around Alderman Maps to make sure no one sees, and the lowered eyes spur my investigation.
With classes adjourning Friday for Spring Break, thousands of University students will embark on travels across the globe. Though some will head west or north with the slopes in sight, and others — this bi-weekly columnist included — will head homeward for some much needed R&R, there is one image alone that typifies collegiate Spring Break: a warm getaway to the tropical beach of your choosing.
Second-year College student Martese Johnson, recently elected to the Honor Committee as one of the five representatives for the College, ran on a platform was largely based on his experience as a minority student at the University.
Since moving to Paris, I have experienced several waves of what is commonly referred to as “culture shock.” Certain adjustments to life overseas were expected — stronger coffee, catcalls and copious amounts of bread.
After a long day of Thursday classes, upwards of 60 students file into Monroe Hall at 6 p.m., ready for a weekly dose of culture and language at Chinese Corner.
Somewhere, sometime, in the back corner of my brain, I made the promise to myself I was only ever going to drop the word “home” in reference to one place. There’s a white house with a gravel drive and quasi-green grass on a corner lot in Richmond. That dandelion speckled plot, my friends, is hallowed ground. That’s home.
The Latino Student Alliance welcomes all students to celebrate Latino culture — including those who do not identify with the group. The LSA hopes by making clear there are no barriers to involvement, they can break down the perception that racial, ethnic and cultural groups divide the student body.
Like many other young girls, third-year College student Hales Parcells dreamed of becoming the Little Mermaid when she grew up.
