The Ithacan

Omar shouldn’t have apologized for her remarks on AIPAC. And I’m glad to see her and Tlaib become the first two American politicians refusing to toe the pro-Israel line.  

I will probably never be comfortable with nonblack usages of n—a and especially n—er, even if they’re merely referring to it and not using it.

We need to recognize that although these conversations may be taxing, they are necessary, and we need to talk about how to effectively approach them.

I’m proud to see fellow queer students fighting against harassment and discrimination and pushing for more visibility on campus. It’s a very difficult space to be in and there aren’t easy solutions.

This begs the question, “why are people more inclined to give women who are alleged sexual abusers the benefit of the doubt?”

Reed College isn’t an anomaly. In the past, students at other institutions have objected to studying the scholarship of white men, dead or alive.

In other words, is there any value in reliving these issues, something that inevitably comes with speaking out?

That is why I’m sharing my story: so the U.S. and other governments can do more to protect the vulnerable youth of Muslim backgrounds whose parents abuse them in the name of religion and culture.

We need to acknowledge that sexual misconduct thrives in academia. And sometimes, it’s institutionally sanctioned.

I’m just interrogating the usefulness of allyship as a framework to understanding oppression because the word “individual” is at the heart of solidarity.

I find this intensely gross. I’ve heard of this line of thinking before, usually among the more openly racist types.

To me, patriotism isn’t much different from a religion. It’s a belief in a less nebulous higher power, one that must similarly go unquestioned.