I used to pray before I went to bed every night. I’d close my eyes, flash each of my family members before the projector in the mind’s eye, and murmur: “I love you mom, please keep mom safe. I love you grandpa, please keep grandpa safe, I love you gramma, and so forth.”
“You’ve been voted ‘Most Likely to Become a Religious Official,’” said the boy with the clipboard. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I responded, looking up from my high school lunch table.
My mom was raised Catholic and my dad was raised Missouri-Synod. Now, although both are sects of Christianity, their marriage caused some controversy within their two families.
What is going to happen in Venezuela? How is your family doing? Why isn’t the US media covering what it is going on in your country? The most honest answer out there: no one really knows, my family is safe, and I don’t know.
Yes, the Internet is where stupidity lives, but I believe that the greater problem is how the Internet perpetuates impersonal anger. Although the classic examples of unorganized Facebook rants and mean YouTube comments still hold true, I believe the Internet has evolved.
There was a time when I wanted to be a writer. And I don’t mean one of the thousands anonymous names whose books gather dust all over the Libe. A great writer. I was going write the Next Great American Novel.
Since his freshman year, Michael Goodgame had been a columnist for the Carletonian, contributing to the campus discourse on issues ranging from media and politics to philosophy and science.
Around 3 pm last Friday, the universe in our corner of the world shifted into shock, disbelief, and grief. As a resident of the neighborhood adjacent to the College, and as an alum, I am writing to let you know that we, your neighbors, felt this shift as well.
“There should be Oscars for porn!” This is a comment that I overheard this past weekend in response to the Oscars. Now, I know this comment was meant to be funny, but when you actually think about the abhorrent role the media plays in the lives of women, it’s not so funny anymore.
Never feel bad for how you feel. Everyone deals with these things differently. You’ll already be feeling a lot of challenging emotions: guilt doesn’t have to be one of them.
Picking a college is a disorienting experience. Be it a campus tour, an overnight visit, or a brochure in the mail, everyone has a different path to where they are now.
I have never been a cynic, but a recent article made me question basic human decency. The article titled, “The Problem with Little White Girls (and Boys): Why I Stopped Being a Voluntourist” by Pippa Biddle assesses her experience building a library in Tanzania while she was in high school.