If you’ve ever been to Boston Harbor, you might’ve heard of the Boston Harbor Islands, a group of several dozen islands sprinkled throughout the greater Massachusetts Bay. What you might not know is that these islands face constant threats due to pollution.
Professor Kim Ruane has been working at Tufts for the past 24 years and is the chair of the Department of Mathematics. While she has done extensive work as a professor and researcher at Tufts thus far, some of her greatest accomplishments have come from outside of the classroom.
While hanging out with a friend the other day, I was on one of my long rants about something I was frustrated with. I don’t remember what we were talking about, but I do remember complaining about someone and saying something like, “You can’t just do that!” I was, of course, referring to whoever was bothering me, but my friend seemed insulted. His facial expression changed, and I could see an eye roll beginning to form. Before I could correct the semantic misunderstanding that had occurred, I realized I had stumbled upon an interesting linguistic phenomenon that I wanted to talk about in this week’s column.
Hello there from the United Kingdom! My name is Grace Nelson, and I am happy to welcome you to my new column, “The Oxford Comma!” This column will follow my journey as a visiting student at the University of Oxford for the 2024–25 academic year, touching upon everything ranging from my English literature studies to future adventures across Europe.
This Sunday, my friend and I sat silently at Picante eating our $11 quesadillas (a great deal btw). We sat there with a long weekend of *redacted* activities weighing on our heads, hearts and stomachs. My head lay up against the wall behind me, staring at the blank ceiling; my friend solemnly drank his diet coke, shaking his leg in anticipation of the work ahead of him. The freshmen who sat next to us filled the restaurant with laughter and novelty. A familiar fire burned in their eyes, the same fire that had once burned in ours.
Language is powerful. It’s personal. It’s the first and most important gift we receive from our parents, and we carry it with us for the rest of our lives. As we grow older, we add new words to our vocabulary. Our ever-expanding bank of slang reflects the environment and circumstances in which we live and our accents serve as hyper-specific markers of the places we were raised, for better or for worse.
It’s said that absence makes the heart grow fonder. Though I cannot confirm nor deny that, I know that good food makes the heart grow fonder. So, whether you missed me and my lovely insights or just missed the food talk, you’re in luck. After a summer sabbatical, I am taking my talents back to the Daily for another year of munching to the max.
Wanderlust: of German origin meaning “a strong desire to travel”Synonyms: restlessness, unsettlednessEtymology: German, “wander” to hike, “lust” pleasure or delight
With its rapid rise to fame on TikTok and other social media platforms, sea moss has gained a reputation for solving all of one’s wellness woes. Proponents cite clearer skin, better digestion and immune function. However, according to registered dietitian and TikToker Abbey Sharp, while the alleged superfood may contain high levels of vitamin B, it also contains a high amount of iodine, which can cause problems with thyroid function in excess.
While on-campus housing at Tufts is guaranteed for first and second-year undergraduates, juniors and seniors often embark on the journey of securing off-campus accommodation. The process is intricate, time-consuming and usually competitive as students seek apartments at a reasonable price point and location from campus.
For her daughter’s first birthday in 2019, Kylie Jenner hosted the inaugural edition of Stormiworld, a yearly celebration that featured theme park rides, gift shops, custom gilded cakes and celebrity guests. Call it an epic spectacle or an obnoxious display of wealth; it’s certainly quite different from how we approach birthdays here at Tufts.
Melvin Calderón — who works for C&W Services, a cleaning company contracted by Tufts for the Medford/Somerville campus — sat in Room 313 of the Olin Center for Language and Cultural Studies during his dinner break. Next to him sat two used paper plates, a navy blue lunch box and Colleen Hoover’s 2016 novel, “It Ends With Us.” As he recounted the story of how he learned to speak English, YouTube elevator music played from his iPad.
Ever thought it would be nice to have a review of every signature drink at The Sink by a girl you’ve never met? No? Well, I’m giving it to you anyway. You’re welcome.
“Step outside but not to brawl,” Anthony Kiedis croons in my ear, and I oblige. The midnight wind is cold, not chilling, drifting across the Wren bridge. Light orange, brown leaves pepper the sidewalk, still soft underfoot — “Autumn’s sweet, we call it fall.” I wander in the general direction of Haskell Hall, dodging construction zones — “I’ll make it to the moon if I have to crawl” — with only a gentle glow to guide me. Past Fletcher, I round an arcing stretch of well-trodden grass, fading yellows drowned out by freshly exposed dirt, down the hill towards the Courts. I diverge from the pavement, freeing myself from its rigid hold as I follow in the footsteps of my peers. My path, imprinted in gentle footfalls, overlays hundreds and thousands of others before it, constructing a collective path of passion — otherwise known as a desire path.
On Oct. 6, Emma Do will be flying over 8,000 miles home to Vietnam after having to say a premature goodbye to their beloved Tufts community.
Whether seeking a Bachelors of Fine Arts or combined degree, Tufts students are acutely aware of the nearly 6-mile trek between the university’s Medford/Somerville and Boston campuses. Now, six years after the Fenway-located School of the Museum of Fine Arts formally became a part of Tufts University, the art school’s Student Government Association is looking to bridge both the physical and emotional distance between the two school’s student bodies.
My friend Owen cannot stop talking about “Gödel, Escher, Bach: An Eternal Golden Braid” (2019), a book about logician Kurt Godel, artist M.C. Escher and composer Johann Sebastian Bach. But really, Owen says the book is about the construction of significant context — like a written piece of music built from seemingly meaningless notation marks on paper.
I’m from Chicago — and that is real Chicago. I’m not one of those fools who say they are from Chicago and end up actually being from Glencoe or Evanston. (Just for clarification for all those who just recently left the college application process, Northwestern and UChicago are both NOT in the ‘real’ Chicago.) Also, I know that it’s surprising, but I am not from O-Block; I have not met Chief Keef nor King Von, and I have neither ‘colors’ nor a ‘sign.’With that being said, having lived in the best big city in the United States — voted on by Condé Nast Traveler and many other outlets — I thought I had the necessary knowledge to cross a busy intersection. In fact, Chicago holds the accolade of housing some of the most dangerous intersections. However, I was in no way prepared for the intersection located between the Joyce Cummings Center and the Science and Engineering Complex. The continuous flow of cars, semi-trucks and buses and an overabundance of depressed and anxious students who are looking for any way to not do their next computer science assignment do not make a good combination.
Every night I dream of Jumbo. The “Everything Dreams Book” tells me that these lurid, pachydermic visions portend “wealth, honor, and a steadfast character.” However, when I bring my good fortunes up in conversation, people seem to look at me strangely. Dreams are uniquely “intimate and decidedly singular,” yet we all inevitably succumb to them. They are an intensely personal experience but simultaneously universal, a form of a sleeping contradiction.
This Saturday marks the 19th annual “What the Fluff? A Tribute to Union Square Innovation” festival. This year’s theme is “Somerville over the Rainbow… There’s no place like Fluff.” On the festival day, Somerville residents lean into their quirky side to celebrate the invention of Marshmallow Fluff which dates back to 1917 when Somerville resident Archibald Query was cooking the original recipe and selling it door-to-door.
