The NBA season may be just two weeks old, but it is already easy to tell that things around the league are no longer the same. While perennial powerhouses began to falter in last year's tease of a season, a full schedule should be enough to get used to the new guys atop the league.
In 1964, Tufts established a college that would present classes that extended beyond the traditional academic offerings. Faculty and administration started the Experimental College (lovingly referred to as the Ex-college) as a place where students could explore new ideas not offered by other courses. Now into its fourth decade, the Ex-college celebrates its 35th anniversary this year.
A heavy blow was dealt to the Latino minor program when one of its key professors, Mayder Dravasa, did not pass her fourth-year review. Despite consistently high demand for her three courses - "Afro-Hispanic Literature," "Latin American Women Writers," and "The Boom in Latin American Literature" - administrators have decided not to grant Dravasa full professorship.
If you haven't yet heard of British popstar, Robbie Williams, you will. Last Tuesday, Oct. 11, Williams performed at Avalon to a sold-out and overexcited Boston audience, a mix of English, Irish, and American fanatics who waited for over an hour just to enter the doors of the club.
The world was turned upside down in 1998; at least as far as the AFC East was concerned. The traditional bottom dwellers found their way to the top for the first time, the 1997 champions dropped to fourth, and four teams from the traditionally weak division made the playoffs.
Recently, a remarkable offer was extended from the office of President John DiBiaggio. In an effort to support the 25th anniversary of the battered women's shelter RESPOND, DiBiaggio, coordinating with the Tufts Women's Center, has created an exciting fundraising opportunity. He stated a commitment to Tufts to match any funds raised by student organizations for the shelter up to a total donation of $5000.
Cole Porter, the legendary Broadway composer and lyricist, sure knew what he was talking about in the 1930s when he wrote the famous song, "Don't Fence Me In," about a man who would prefer to roam carefree in the fields than be tied down. "Let me ride though the wide open country that I love, don't fence me in/ Just turn me loose, let me straddle my old saddle underneath the western skies," crooned Bing Crosby with the Andrews Sisters back in the days when that song was a hit.
This weekend's Kathak dance performance, led by Kathak Master Chitresh Das, was many Tufts students' first introduction to the classical Indian dance form. For various Tufts academic departments, professors, organizations, and students, however, the event marked the beginning of a year of Kathak dance-related activities and education.
While some freshmen have already arrived on campus to participate in Orientation programs, the vast majority take their first steps onto campus as enrolled students today. Nearly all 1,340 students of the Class of 2003 will come together on the academic quad for matriculation exercises.
The statistics are shocking. Although only 572,000 reports of assault by intimates are officially reported to federal officials each year, the most conservative estimates indicate two to four million women of all races and classes are battered each year. At least 170,000 of those violent incidents are serious enough to require hospitalization, emergency room care, or a doctor's attention.
This past Friday, Sept. 17, the women's cross country team celebrated its first win of the season, and a sweeping one at that.
If all goes according to plan, early in the year 2001 satellite radio will be launched, providing listeners with hundreds of digital quality radio stations.
Sometimes I'm the 12th man shouting support for our sports teams, or in attendance at a club's event. However, usually I'm one of the eleven on the team - out on the field participating. When I'm not playing, that's when I become the 12th. The point is that I'm there.
Contrary to popular belief, French culture is about more than crepes, wine, and the Eiffel Tower.
Improving the advising program and course-related web technology are only a few of the things Christopher Nwabeke, the new Dean of Sophomore Advising and Associate Dean of Advising, hopes to accomplish. The Nigerian-born scholar, no stranger to academia, spoke fondly about his past and eagerly about his future with Tufts.
Walking into my room here at Tufts or at home, there's one thing that's immediately noticeable. There are CDs everywhere. For as long as I can remember, music has been an incredibly important part of my life. I don't know what I would do without music. I remember as a little girl listening to my favorite records on the family stereo. It was always fun getting the records out and looking at all the pictures on the covers. One of my favorites was the Muppets' Christmas record - it didn't matter if it was December or June, I thought that the music was always in season. When it was actually Christmas time, the record was put into heavy rotation in the house because of me, and if I wasn't begging my parents to put the Muppets on, it was our Alvin and the Chipmunks Christmas eight track. My love for music has grown and refined over the years. I have a very eclectic taste in music, and I have acquired a broad knowledge of different genres. Leafing through my music collection, there's some techno, alternative rock, classical, jazz, swing, '70s disco and funk, and '80s music. I love it all. For me, music can brighten my mood, helpme relax, or pump me up for a night out. One of my absolute favorite things is going to concerts. I can't even count how many I have been to. There's nothing like the rush a person feels when she is in the front row at a concert, listening intently to the performers, with a huge grin on her face. I've woken up early to wait in line to get the best concert tickets as soon as they go on sale so many times. I've even gone so far as having my mom get up early to get Phish tickets for me since I couldn't get them for myself because I was at school. Concerts are great, especially when you are with your friends because of the memories they create. It can be a truly meaningful experience when you are so immersed in the music that it has taken you and your friends over. To be able to look around and see thousands of smiling, dancing people can have a strong impact on a person. Even though I've loved most of the concerts I've been to, I have been to a couple bad shows. Sometimes, however, bad music can create good memories. A few years ago, a friend dragged me to a hard rock show at this small club at home. I hated the music, but somehow I managed to have an okay evening. It is always good to give new things a shot - the experience may reinforce your preconceived notions, or you might find something new that you like. Thinking back on the night, I'm glad that I went because the club, which was an Albany landmark, closed this summer. Now I can say that I've been to a legendary club, and share my experience. After thinking about it for a long time, I have found that music is an integral part of my life. I have this ability to associate practically any song I've heard with some sort of event that happened to me. It has even become a joke between my friends and me. Plus, if a song comes on and the memory associated with it is happy, I usually can't help myself from retelling the story to my friends for the thousandth time. A perfect example of this goes along with the song "Boombastic" by Shaggy. I know, it's a totally random song, so of course, I have a fun memory to go with it. A few years ago, I went on a class trip to Europe, and one of our stops was in Belgium. We went to this medieval town that had basically been turned into a tourist attraction, but was still very picturesque. As I walked through the cobblestone streets with my best friend and browsed through the shops, we thought we heard something coming from around the corner. As we got closer, we found a small square within the village that had been completely modernized. And the song "Boombastic" was blasting from the speakers. This was a totally unexpected scene, and to top it off, "Boombastic" isn't exactly a song you would expect to hear in Belgium. Now, whenever I hear that song, especially in the car with my friends, we play it loudly and sing along. I have also decided that I can't function without music. There is no possible way that I can accomplish work without listening to music in the background. Just as I have been writing this Featuring, I've listened to so many different songs. Music just helps me concentrate. It's even better when I listen to a CD that I know practically by heart because the music blends into my thought process. Being able to listen to music that fits my stressed-out work moods helps me take things one at a time, relax, and just go with the flow. I don't know what I would do without music. I love my stereo and my CD collection. Whenever I go shopping, something mysteriously pulls me to the record store. I have even been known to drag people to three different record stores just so I could find the one special CD from an unknown band that I had just heard and loved. Although I'm not a huge fan of the band KISS, I think Gene Simmons was onto something when he wrote, "I want to rock and roll all night, and party every day."
The women's cross-country team had high hopes heading into last Saturday's NESCAC Championships at Hamilton College. Unfortunately, the team struggled, as the Jumbos continue to have difficulties keeping up with the tough league competition.
Looking for something fun to do on a Monday night? Check out the Museum of Science's third annual College Open House. The event is free to everyone who shows a college ID, and it will run from 5 p.m. to 10 p.m.
When people ask me, I say I am a person without religion. I am not a person without God - simply a person without religion. Technically, I suppose I am a Catholic, since some priest somewhere anointed my head with water when I was too little to remember, and my white christening dress still hangs in a plastic bag somewhere in my parents' attic. But after the age of five, I never went to church at all, and since I do not believe in the most central tenets of Christianity, I cannot, with any good conscience, call myself a Christian. I never asked my parents why we stopped going to church. I wouldn't have minded going. I always liked climbing under the white wooden pews during the service, and nothing was better than the warm waffles drenched in gooey strawberry goop that I used to get at Denny's right afterward. Yeah, back in kindergarten, church was downright fun. Evidently, my dad didn't agree. Shouting matches would erupt between my parents about whether or not they should take the kids to church. My dad was adamantly opposed - it seems that after going through Catholic school and Catholic college and even being an altar boy when he was little, he had lost all faith in the Church. I wonder what made him give up on religion. Did he give it up because he had known someone who had been killed in Vietnam? Did he give it up because when he was 19 his friend Charlie Eckert was murdered? Did he just want to sleep in on Sundays? My mom, who had grown up Lutheran, worried every now and then that she was ruining her two daughters by not bringing them up with religion; the most effort she ever really made to bring religion into our house was to put up a Christmas tree in December and play one or two renditions of "Silent Night" on the record player. The older I got, the more I began to fear religion. When I was in seventh grade, we had to read the Old Testament of the Bible. I was terrified that my mom might find out I was reading it and suddenly realize I knew nothing at all about religion and ship me off to CCD classes. I would sit in my bedroom with the door shut, the Bible tucked inside my large science book that was propped up against my knees. My bookbag was always placed strategically next to my feet so that I could stuff the Bible in it as soon as my mom knocked on my door. I only found out last week that she knew about my clandestine Bible reading the entire time. I was 15 when I attended my first church service, a Catholic mass in Spain when I was there as an exchange student. As I sat in the back of the church, the unfamiliar sounds washed over me as I tried hard to focus on the priest in his white robe, standing just above the sea of heads in the congregation. All of a sudden everyone stood up. A few minutes later everyone sat down. I sat in the back mesmerized. Eventually, I lost my fear of the church and instead decided to learn what I could about its long complicated history. I learned about the creation of the Holy Roman Empire, the Crusades, the split of King Henry the Eighth. In Paris I gaped at the Gothic splendor of the Notre Dame cathedral. In Wittenburg, I walked up to the door where Martin Luther posted his 95 theses. In Assisi, I marveled at the quiet Franciscan monks in their simple brown robes. In Rome I waved to the Pope from a square in the Vatican. But even after visiting dozens of religious monuments, seeing hundreds of religious paintings, and studying thousands of years of Church history, I still could not fathom why so many people could believe in a religion that seemed so preposterous. It wasn't until this summer that I put together a very important piece of the puzzle. One day at work, one of my good friends - a girl who is the president of the Catholic center at her school - asked me if Judaism was a part of Christianity. I burst out laughing, but then I looked at her blank face, and decided it was time to enlighten her. I laid down the facts. I told her that Jews, Christians, and Muslims all believe in the Old Testament. Jews believe that the messiah has not come yet, Muslims believe that Mohammed was the messiah, and Christians believe that Jesus was the messiah. I then explained that Christians are divided into three groups: Roman Catholics, Eastern Orthodox, and Protestants. Catholics believe that the Pope in Rome is chosen by God, Eastern Orthodox believe that the Pope in Constantinople is chosen by God, and Protestants do not believe in a Pope at all. At first I could not understand why this girl, who had gone to Catholic school for 13 years and was now the president of her school's Catholic center could not know about these basic points in her religion. I explained to her that I believe in God, but I have a hard time believing that Jesus was actually born from a virgin or walked on water or rose from the dead. I asked her how she could believe those things without questioning them. She looked at me dumbfounded. And it was then that I realized she has something very important that I lack: faith. She believes in her religion... because. There is no word to come after it, just "because." Without religion, I have not only missed out on faith, but also I have missed out on the close sense of community that draws so many people to their churches, synagogues, and mosques week after week. My friend may not have questioned the validity of many points of her religion, but she has a place where she can go every Sunday to feel a sense of renewal and spiritual fulfillment which is essential to our daily lives. She has songs she has known her whole life, and when she hears them again, her dusty, distant memories are gently awoken. I would love to be a part of a community where I felt accepted and knew that there were other people who would accept me unconditionally. I can't become a part of the Catholic Center any more than I can become a part of the Islamic Society or Hillel. Ironically, the majority of my friends are Jewish and I often joke around with them that I am a wannabe Jew. When my roommate went to Rosh Hashanah services last Friday night, I thought I would try to call a friend, but I realized that every single person I wanted to call would also be at services, and suddenly I felt very much alone. I can't be the only person out there who questions the basic underpinnings of their religion. Doesn't anyone else find it difficult to believe that Adam and Eve were the first two humans or that God really spoke to Moses through a burning bush? Are people really duped by their religions, or do they simply choose to accept what they are taught because they want to be accepted by a community? Unfortunately, I can't go to church or synagogue and expect to gain faith. Faith has to come before I join a religion, before I become a part of a religious community. So for now, I will keep searching.
