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(11/17/17 3:11am)
Guest contributor Jacob Berman ’20 voiced strong opposition to Linda Sarsour in his recent column for The Daily Princetonian, highlighting what he saw as an inconsistency in the reaction of students who usually protest against the invitation of speakers preaching hate. Yet, at the time of writing, Berman does not appear to have any plans of his own to protest Sarsour’s appearance on the panel hosted by the Women*s Center and Department of African American Studies. Despite his personal reluctance to protest on the grounds of engaging in “rigorous discourse,” Berman has no problem insinuating that the University’s “campus protesters” ought to do so. But Berman’s use of Islamophobic and racist dog whistles rescinds his right to offer “advice” to leftist protesters. Furthermore, his article represents a troubling trend wherein certain individuals co-opt social justice language and attempt to shame the oppressed and their allies into doing activist work that has reactionary purposes.
(04/20/17 1:30am)
An article written by columnist Bhaskar Roberts ’19 on Sunday, April 16, claims that white artist Dana Schutz’s controversial rendering of Emmett Till’s dead body was born out of empathy for Till and, by extension, the pain suffered by the black community. Roberts was particularly scandalized by black artist Hanna Black’s response to Schutz’s work, noting that Black is constraining the ways that white people can fight oppression on behalf of black people.
(04/19/17 1:47am)
After the “shock” of Donald J. Trump’s electoral victory settled down, I remember hearing any number of choice quotes about college students’ responsibilities for Trump’s election.
(02/16/17 5:12am)
Recently, the Yale Corporation made a step towards reconciling its racist past with efforts towards building a more inclusive university community. It would be inaccurate to describe Yale’s efforts as “succumbing” to student protests, as my fellow columnist Liam O’Connor argues. Both protesters and advocates have used their freedoms of speech and protest in effective and persuasive ways. As a strong advocate for personal and civil liberties, John C. Calhoun himself perhaps would have supported such use of freedom of speech (but only for white, landowning men).
(02/10/17 3:49am)
In the wake of Donald Trump’s executive order that “suspends admissions of Syrian refugees and limits the flow of other refugees into the United States by instituting what the President has called ‘extreme vetting of immigrants,’” many have called the first weeks of Trump’s presidency a nightmare. Others have even implied that Trump's administration represents a departure from Americanism, that there is nothing American about deportations and xenophobia. In short, the American Dream has turned into the American Nightmare.
(11/08/16 8:01pm)
Before voting, I felt sick to my stomach. Why? Was I not supposed to exude pride as my ancestors’ wildest dreams became a reality for me? Rather, I not only casually contemplated my vote, but I wondered if I should vote at all. Nausea nearly took me hostage as I inserted my little card at the electronic voting booth. I looked across the room at my mother, her face stricken with urgency. I watched the beautiful faces of my people beam as they cast their votes and were rewarded with patriotic stickers for this so-called civic duty. Perhaps it was hot in that early voting room, but I could not stop sweating as I realized what I was about to do: cast my first presidential vote as green.
(10/03/16 1:49pm)
When I was about 12, my grandmother gave me a shirt from an off-price department store. The shirt proclaimed “VOTE” in red, white, and blue worn letters, meant to evoke a retro feeling that I wouldn’t understand until later. My grandmother bought me the shirt not only because she could see my passion for the political process, but also because she knew that one day I would cast my own vote in honor of the legacy left by so many people who fought for this right.I can still wear the shirt, but it has a different meaning for me now. While I intend to participate as a voter this November, it is unlikely that I will wear the shirt ever again or implore anyone to vote who does not see their place in the electoral process.I wasn’t always this way. When Barack Obama ran against John McCain in 2008, I hated the idea that there were people who could vote and failed to do so for whatever reason, while my pre-teen self had to sit on the sideline and dream about it. I acknowledged that the two-party system, among other things, is corrupt. However, I rationalized my continued loyalty to the voting process not due to any particular devotion to the Constitution, but because a few generations ago, many people who looked like me couldn’t vote at all.In light of voter suppression ID laws, I knew that my right to vote and exercising that right was important to me and if any of my friends didn’t want to vote then, by golly, I was going to try and convince them. If you’d asked me a couple of years ago where I stood on my fellow black people who refuse to vote, I would proudly stand with many of my peers who consistently implore and simultaneously shame other folks into voting for the “lesser of two evils.”However, college has got me thinking, as it has the tendency to do. I’ve been pondering about what the electoral process means, particularly for black people in this country. Professor Paul Frymer has written about “electoral capture,” noting how it traps African-Americans into voting for a specific party (namely, the Democratic Party) as politicians attempt to distance themselves from black constituents, leaving us with few alternatives. I’ve been thinking about Professor Eddie Glaude, who has expressed his disdain for Hillary Clinton’s Democratic Party as a party that “repeatedly turns its back on the most vulnerable in this country.” I’ve even been thinking about the glimmer in my parents’ eyes when President Obama was elected not once, but twice, and how frankly disappointed I’ve been that he has maintained a status quo for the African-American community.Not yet have I gotten to a point where I can “discard” my vote. As November sneaks up on us, I am less sure every day that Jill Stein as a third-party candidate is a reasonable alternative. What I am sure of is that, regarding the countless number of people who are disillusioned with the system or do not feel that Hillary Clinton’s neoliberal politics are worthy of their vote, I refuse to shame them any longer. On a personal level, I understand how fear may be playing a role in movements against Trump and mobilizing voters, and that it may be seen as a privilege to consider voting as an intellectual exercise rather than an attempt at survival. Donald Trump’s rhetoric makes his presidency unimaginable. However, a failure to vote out of fear — or better yet, to note that voting will not diminish the culture of racial and xenophobic antagonism that Trump has championed — should not be reason for ridiculing. Individuals hold a great deal of power within institutions, but in this election, too much emphasis has been placed on their role in making the nation better or worse. It is not those who choose not to vote or who vote for third-party candidates who should be blamed.About a week ago, President Obama stated: “If you don’t vote, that’s a vote for Trump.” I understand President Obama’s partisan obligations as a leader of the Democratic Party, but I must firmly acknowledge his obligations to the disillusioned electorate. It is disturbing that so often we put onus on the victims of this two-party system instead of questioning and challenging the system itself. As for me, I will be voting this November, but with the full knowledge that my vote is my own and I cannot use my lingering democratic spirit to shame others for not doing the same.Imani Thornton is a Politics major from Matteson, Ill. She can be contacted at it4@princeton.edu.
(09/13/16 6:00pm)
The first time I was given a trigger warning was as an admitted student during the SHARE-sponsored “Not Anymore” module focused on sexual consent. Prior to this time, I had little notion of a trigger warning and no idea that in this harsh and obscene world there were ways to not be constantly reminded of such grief, both physically and psychologically.
(04/04/16 7:58pm)
Princeton University is entangled in a love affair with the status quo. Like someone who’s been in a bad relationship for decades, the University consistently pretends that it will leave. But we all know how this story ends, from countless novels and soap operas: nothing will change. Princeton will refuse to let go of this status quo lover, which — despite promises of stability, prestige and privilege — fails to offer real benefits and ultimately harms all those who have warned against this relationship.
(03/24/16 4:46pm)
There will never be a World War III— at least, not the way I have imagined it. Some of us may envision an upcoming World War as one that features the drafting of our boys to far-flung Pacific islands or small towns in Europe or Northern Africa. We may even worry that WWIII will mean food rationing, or hope that it would spruce up the U.S. economy the way the second World War did.
(03/03/16 5:29pm)
Let’s be honest: many of us love the status quo. I hate the status quo, but it sustains me and if you happen to be affiliated with this university, it may also sustain you. This sustenance, however, is no justification for its maintenance.
(02/15/16 9:00am)
I remember the first time I realized the music of my childhood wasn’t acceptable for college. To clarify, my musical tastes were unacceptable not in the sense that they were explicit, but rather because it wasn't "just music" anymore. It was political.It was during Community Action, and fellow frosh were picking songs to play after a long day of volunteer work. There was some EBM, a little rock and even some classical. The entire time while I waited for my turn, I racked my brain for something that wouldn’t be difficult to explain; I assumed that as the only black girl in the group, no one would understand if I played Erykah Badu or an old Jackson 5 tune.Until that moment, I didn’t consider my musical tastes to be particularly unique or alienating, but when it was my turn, I picked a random pop song. What would it have meant if I had instead played Marvin Gaye’s "What’s Going On?" or Earth, Wind & Fire’s "September”? Perhaps nothing would have happened, and even if my fellow classmates hadn’t liked the music, maybe nothing would have been inferred from it. Perhaps my musical tastes would not have been considered profound, brave or somehow indicative of the way I was raised. Regardless, I let a part of me — something that had never really felt like a large part of my identity before then — slip away as the next song played.During my time here at Princeton, similar incidents have occurred. My roommates play a great deal of music in the common room, everything from country western to 70s rock. I play music in the common room too — just when they’re not around. On the off chance that I happen to be playing music while someone else is in the room, I quickly turn it off or capitulate to a Miles Davis track. Nothing too political, nothing too contentious. Once, my roommate walked in while Al Green’s "Let’s Stay Together" blasted from my computer; before I could turn it off, she asked me about the genre of the song."Was it jazz?" In the moment, it felt like more than a personal inquiry even though I didn’t own the song and indeed there was nothing particularly controversial about the romantic lyrics. Despite this, the inquiry felt like an interrogation of home, images of which the song evoked: warm summer nights with my parents, driving down a long highway. I had been indulging in such memories of home on a college campus that seems, many times, the opposite. Songs like this always played on my hometown R&B radio stations. In my community, it’s considered a classic. At Princeton, what felt like an invasion was perhaps a simple inquiry, an innocent question that no one at home would have ever asked. As I explained to my friend that Al Green was a soul artist, I couldn’t help but wonder what about my musical tastes had marginalized me.Music helps to define many cultures, and within the African-American community, musical genres such as jazz, soul, funk and hip-hop are emblematic of the specific time periods in which they originated. Much of this music has political undertones, but it also has been the casual soundtrack of my life in the same way that other people have songs that played large parts in their childhoods. The difference here is that I didn’t realize this music might not be mainstream — or even recognized — until I got to a "diverse" college campus.All of this represents something more than differences in musical tastes. This is neither a condemnation nor a hipster manifesto. I probably will never like country music and it is possible that none of my roommates will ever appreciate Lauryn Hill or Frank Ocean the way that I do. That’s okay. However, what are the larger implications of pieces of our home lives that are not within the mainstream of Princeton’s campus? When you’re looking for home during the four years we are here, how can you do so when many of the pieces of your identity must be explained in a way that your friends’ do not?College is a place to learn, but minority students do not often think of themselves as teachers. The same frustrations may exist for any minority on campus whose musical comforts from home — and even culture in general — come to necessitate explanation due to their perceived obscurity. When leisure must become a lesson, what are marginalized cultures to do?What is home?Imani Thornton is a sophomore from Matteson, Ill. She can be reached at it4@princeton.edu.
(02/01/16 7:22pm)
With the start of February, many of you may recall that this month is deemed “Black History Month.” This is perhaps one of the more controversial annual observances, especially when compared to others such as Women’s History Month in March or National Hispanic Heritage Month during September and October. We may trace the controversy to several sources, including the White-Black racial dichotomy we often find ourselves within, the month’s long-established roots and the tumultuous experience of Black people in the United States since 1620. With these possibilities in mind, it seems that every year the onus is placed on the Black community to prove why Black History Month should have a place on our calendars.
(01/10/16 7:50pm)
Sometimes it’s okay to be a contrarian, particularly when it involves pop culture or Canada Goose jackets.
(12/02/15 7:00pm)
You might know the type: the social justice warrior on your Facebook feed, posting provocative articles about white privilege, gentrification or the death of yet another black person killed by a police officer. If you’re anything like me, you might assume that these warriors would probably be one of those humanities or social science major. They take classes with really long titles about race, gender or nationality and use words like “intersectional” and “problematic” more than your average B.S.E. major.
(11/18/15 7:10pm)
There are many in this country that argue political correctness is killing our constitutional right to freedom of speech. I usually contest such notions, particularly when they concern events such as those that have occurred at Yale, the University of Missouri and other campuses where students feel unsafe. However, last week I came to the conclusion that perhaps political correctness may be murdering something else: the way in which we can express our feelings about race relations in this country.
(10/22/15 6:57pm)
As fortunate students at the University, we are thrown into a “melting pot” of cultures. Our classmates may have grown up halfway around the world and for some, English is not their first language. There are students who grew up in racially homogenous neighborhoods and students who come from areas that may not even have immediate access to grocery stores. There is a wide range of students here at the University and that’s the point, isn’t it — to provide everyone here with a wide range of experiences that can make each of us better future leaders?
(10/06/15 6:19pm)
In the age of the Internet, once-glorified idols fall. In an era of the 24-hour news cycle, formerly upheld individuals are summoned from their hallowed depths of revered obscurity and examined by social analysts, pundits and those random guys in the comment section of Yahoo News. Sometimes these individuals make it out of the fire; many times they do not.
(09/22/15 8:32am)
Perhaps it has already happened: you pass someone who you vaguely remember from a Community Action barbeque, or someone whom your hallmate introduced you to during Frosh Week. You might not know the person’s name but you know she or he’s important and you know that at one point you may have shaken hands with him or her, that he or she was yet another potential connection to make during your years at Princeton. Maybe you were disappointed when this person instead took the easy way out, by avoiding eye contact until you were out of his or her field of vision. And there you have it, the staggering realization that not everyone you will ever meet on campus is your friend, or even wants to be.
(04/28/15 3:55pm)
Growing up, I was kindly told that there are three things you never discuss inpolite company: religion, money and politics. I remember my parents telling methis at about age 12 in a matter-of-fact way and once again as a piece of advicebefore entering college. In the eight months since, I have mused over this piece ofadvice and, much to my parents’ potential disappointment, I find it difficult tofollow.