AS THE great and powerful fourth year that I am about to become, this is my last chance to pass on any of the meaningful, significant, perceptive lessons and advice that I have accumulated in my three years here at Mr. Jefferson's University.
WHAT DO the Mahogany Dance Troupe, Disciples of Bob Barker, One in Four, Hoos for Israel and the Virginia Alpine Ski Team all have in common?
AMID your rigorous academic course load, studying and the occasional nap or two (a college essential), you will find at first glance that you have a lot of free time.
CHARGED this week with writing a few pearls of wisdom for the incoming class, I thought deeply about what I wanted to say.
FUTURE first years, I wanted to write to talk a little about joining the University community and try to share some wisdom that was helpful to me in the hope that you may find some use for it.
WORKING in Charlottesville this summer has been incredibly enjoyable and memorable for me, not simply because of the beautiful weather and relaxed social scene, but also the influx of incoming students.
NEARLY two years ago when I first arrived at U.Va., I was not thinking about how I was attending the best public university in the nation, or that I was in the best city in the nation in which to live, according to Frommer's.
IF YOU'RE like the rest of college-bound America, you likely received at least three or four handbooks entitled "Things Every Freshman Must Know Before They End Up Failing and Friendless" or other such nonsense as graduation gifts.
BRACE yourself, I am about to say something unheard of in the Thomas Jefferson-devoted, orange and blue bleeding, Good Ol' Song singing world of Charlottesville: I never wanted to go to the University of Virginia.
WHILE the liberal media elite has been going gaga over attack dog Michael Moore for his partisan productions like "Fahrenheit 9/11" and "Bowling for Columbine," it has overlooked the emergence of a socially significant genre known as the "Blacksploitation" film.
BEFORE I start disseminating my "elderly advice," I first want to tell all of you congratulations.
I AM A RACIST. In two years, four semesters and countless hours of studying anything from the laws of supply and demand to Greek and Roman warfare, I came to this shocking -- and invaluable -- epiphany. As a proponent of affirmative action, a die-hard liberal, a member of Sustained Dialogue (a group dedicated to an open discussion of race) and even a member of the Mahogany Dance Troupe, making an accusation against myself that is normally reserved for men like David Duke and Strom Thurmond seems shocking.
WHEN MY editors asked me to write an advice column, I drew blanks for days. This article comes mostly from that void, which itself emerges from the fact that I have little wisdom to contribute to your success in college. If you learn nothing else from this column, learn that surviving your first year is an art that no one can teach you to master. Therefore, you'll probably be fine if you don't read any more of this paper.
We've all heard the Golden Rule, "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." Respect ought to be returned when it is received, but in the University environment, it often feels like respect is only given when it is demanded.
COLLEGES and universities around the country wonder how we do it. A strong, completely student-run honor system at a large international university exists nowhere else in the United States.
IF YOU have the inclination (and more importantly, the patience) to pay attention to politics during your tenure at the University, you'll notice that both sides of most debates tend to frame their arguments in terms of rights.
ON A particularly hot day in late August of last year, I was sitting in my room on my computer getting acquainted with the high speeds of the U.Va.
THE NOVEMBER elections are rapidly approaching and as the candidates are preparing to accept their respective party's nominations and the media coverage is gearing up, few people would like to concentrate on the subject of terrorist attacks in this country.
AS I boarded the local train to Philadelphia a few weeks ago, a headline of The New York Times, being read by a man across from me, grabbed my attention.
July 1, the day House Bill 751 (an amendment to 1997's Affirmation of Marriage Act) became effective in Virginia, stands as the latest chapter in a regrettable trend.
