President-elect Donald Trump proposed an economy that demonstrated his rather skimpish knowledge of economics. Despite being perceived as a financial wizard and gritty negotiator from his time on “The Apprentice,” Trump has famously filed for business bankruptcy at least four times, even managing to bankrupt his own casino.
After Nov. 5, the Democratic Party was quick to point fingers at who lost them the election, with their targets ranging from vice-presidential pick Tim Walz to current President Joe Biden, to racist and sexist Americans. While the Democrats continue their endless blame game, it has become apparent to the rest of America that citizens are tired of Democratic governance.
American Girl dolls were the center of my elementary school life. I remember owning two, both the ‘make your own’ dolls. I named them both after Francis Hogden Burnett’s characters: Emily, after the doll in “A Little Princess,” and Mary, after the main character in “The Secret Garden.” I remember being so emotionally tied to my dolls, reading every American Girl book, watching the associated movies and playing the online games. I was truly obsessed with American Girl. And then, as every girl does, I grew up. I donated one of my dolls to my younger cousin and stored the other in the garage.
President-elect Donald Trump has managed to do something that hasn’t been done since his last time in office. His postelection Cabinet picks so far, specifically, his choice of Robert F. Kennedy Jr. as secretary of Health and Human Services, have brought a seemingly bipartisan feeling of displeasure.
Since 1970, Indigenous people and their allies have gathered in Plymouth, Mass. on the fourth Thursday of November. This day, also the federal holiday of Thanksgiving, is known there by another name: National Day of Mourning. Those in Plymouth hear speeches, hold a protest and mourn for the millions of Indigenous people who died due to the genocidal tactics of European settlers.
There are countless things in life that just take time. When I first arrived at college in the bustling area of Medford/Somerville, I was impressed with the university’s private campus embedded in a public suburb. The T lines, buses, cars (that arguably drive too fast), bikes and everyday people zig-zagged between the paths of college students alike. Once my parents departed with hugs and some wise words, it was off to orientation and the next chapter of my life.
On Oct. 24, the Tufts Federalist Society hosted an event entitled “Is Project 2025 a Threat to Democracy?: A Dialogue.” It was a debate between Samuel Gebru, a Tufts political science professor of the practice, and Jonathan Wolfson, chief legal officer and policy director of the Cicero Institute, a Texas-based think tank. Wolfson, who had served as policy director in the Department of Labor during the first Trump administration, argued that Project 2025 is not a threat, while Gebru argued otherwise.
In the wake of the recent 2024 U.S. election results, many articles — including two published by the Daily — have circulated the internet as a preliminary electoral autopsy, examining the causes of Vice President Kamala Harris’ loss which ushered President-elect Donald Trump back into the White House. I do not intend to write such an article. Instead, I aim to look ahead to the 2028 elections. Those, I posit, will really be the most important elections of our lifetime, despite rhetoric going back years that every preceding election has fulfilled that role.
I vividly remember last semester’s protests. I remember the encampment first appearing on the Academic Quad in early April just as I remember the messy aftermath of the Tufts Community Union Senate resolution votes. But most of all, I remember the chill in the air that came after Tufts’ administration first threatened to send in police to arrest the protestors — that icy April night on the eve of finals, being filled in my bones with the fear that many of my classmates would be leaving our campus in the back of cop cars.
Although it seems to be the argumentative equivalent of spilling a glass of water into the Pacific with the goal of flooding Sydney, I’m voicing my concern for the humanities in the ever-expanding face of artificial intelligence. The arguments against AI’s encroachment in academic settings, though prolific, have done nothing to mitigate it. A similar source of adversity facing English departments in particular, is the growing inability of college students to read long-form literature. Note my usage of the word in ability; students are not expressing boredom or a lack of time in response to being assigned novels, but rather a complete inability to read them.
On Nov. 5, 2024, Democrats were handed their worst defeat in a presidential election since 2004. Donald Trump decisively defeated Kamala Harris, winning the popular vote by around two points and sweeping every swing state. The “tipping point” state in the election was Pennsylvania, which Harris lost by two points, roughly the percentage by which she lost the national vote. This was not a close election and Harris’ loss cannot be attributed to Electoral College bias or depressed voter turnout. On Election Day, American voters sent a loud and clear signal they wanted Donald Trump back in the White House.
There’s a point in many people’s lives that we deem our parental “cut off” date — an official end to our reliance on our parents and their support. Some say it’s when we blow out the candles on our 18th-birthday cakes, others claim it’s when we walk across the stage at college graduation and some even declare independence when our parent’s medical insurance kicks us off the policy at age 26. For my family, there wasn’t a precise date on our calendars when my bags had to be packed and out on the front porch. Rather, my parents’ progressive withdrawal of themselves as my constant safety net through adolescence left me ready for college without the baggage of parental dependency.
2024 has been one of the biggest years for tourism in history. As of September, 790 million people had traveled abroad, 96% of 2019’s numbers, signaling that tourism has recovered from both COVID and inflation. In southern Europe, tourism has boomed, with tourist spending in Portugal forecast to be 20% higher than 2019. This has led to recent efforts by European countries to dial back on tourism.
If I had to describe why I chose to attend Tufts in one word, I would say it was for the community. I’m confident I’m not alone in this answer either; I hear the word “community” tossed around all the time when students or faculty are asked to describe Tufts. In fact, the first descriptor of the student experience at Tufts on the school’s website is the “welcoming and multidimensional community.” While I’m personally very happy with the community I’ve found here, I think that we need to redefine what the Tufts community entails.
When the Medford/Tufts stop opened in December 2022, it marked the end of an almost 30-year project to extend the Green Line into the Medford and Somerville communities. Since then, the MBTA has had its fair share of problems — such as a plague of slow zones and even issues with the tracks that run through Medford and Somerville — that current CEO Philip Eng has mostly managed to navigate the T out of. Now, as the T looks forward, beginning new initiatives rather than fixing old mistakes and extending the Green Line to the West Medford Commuter Rail stop could be a great place to start.
When I considered studying abroad in Paris, I pictured cafes, a trip to Dior, sightseeing and, somewhere lower down the list, my French university experience. As I prepared to depart, Tufts Global Education provided insight into immersing oneself into a new culture, seizing new opportunities and managing finances with too many spending opportunities and limited cash. Yet, what I wasn’t as well prepared for was a return to university life at Tufts and a rigorous academic schedule. Both proved to be more difficult than I had anticipated.
I’ve lost count of how many times I have been “STEM-splained” by an engineer with a condescending undertone of how hard their degree is — a degree they chose entirely of their own free will. Each time, I am forced to entertain calculated complaints about their workload, fully aware that it’s a thinly veiled attempt to prove they have a more challenging degree than me.
College, as we think we know it before attending, is nothing more than the thirst-driven mirage leading us through the exhausting traverse of high school. It guides us through our teens to what is made out to be “the best four years of our lives.” Once we arrive, our own experiences inevitably fail to live up to the impossibly high standards that we have been conditioned to set.
Dying, nearly dying or jail — these were my only outcomes, I was told, if I were to have a sip of alcohol or experiment with any other drug. In high school health class, I remember playing an online simulation in which I was a high schooler attending a house party. Every time I decided to drink, the simulation would either flash forward to my avatar rotting in jail or lying in the hospital on death’s door. Everyone in my class was told this. All our unique identities, backgrounds and futures — all reduced to the consequence of one “idiotic” decision.
When I was eight years old, I accompanied my grandpa (Papa) to the polls for the 2012 general election. This was the first time I ever “voted.” I remember watching him get his ballot, and going with him into the voting booth. He had a list with him of the candidates he wanted to vote for. However, once he got to the local elections, he started asking me which name looked better. Whichever name I said, he voted for.
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