I still remember how I felt when I first stepped foot on Tufts’ campus. It was one of the admitted student days (Jumbo Days, as they’re lovingly coined), and everyone around me was practically buzzing with excitement. Despite the windy April chill, all of the students were eager to get a tour of campus and see what life was like for a Jumbo.
Fiorenzo Omenetto, a professor in the biomedical engineering department, wrote to convicted sex offender Jeffrey Epstein after an associate of the financier put them in touch, according to the newest batch of files released by the Department of Justice on Friday.
On Thursday, students walking into the Mayer Campus Center lobby during the early afternoon were met with a surprising sight: blue balloons, an Italian ice stand, free T-shirts, succulent-pot painting stations and cupcakes galore. What could be the reason for all the pomp and circumstance?
While it may seem like they just arrived on the Hill, the Tufts Class of 2026 are now embarking on their final year of undergraduate studies, a year defined by both fun senior events, stressful applications and straggling course requirements.
Hi everyone! As I write this, it is currently May Morning here in Oxford, the date of a centuries-old tradition dedicated to heralding in the spring. Each year, thousands gather in front of Magdalen Tower to listen to the choir sing hymns to the tune of church bells and chirping birds. For you all, however, it’s Commencement, a day dedicated to heralding in not just this spring but the rest of the seasons of your lives. With change, of course, we must leave things behind. That’s right, it’s time to say goodbye to Tufts — and to this column.
Hi everyone! It’s me again, coming to you live from the comfort of my bed. I’ve missed it desperately (in particular, my mattress topper) during my recent adventures abroad — the main subject of today’s edition. As an English major, a lot of what I study is rooted in ancient Western literary traditions. Just think of all the mythological references in Shakespeare, or the use of epic form in “Paradise Lost”; almost every work in the English canon can be traced back to the OGs of Ancient Greece and Rome, if you will.
Hi everyone! I hope you had a rejuvenating spring break! As you all return to your classes this week, I am beginning my six-week-long Easter vacation here in Oxford (or “Vac,” as they like to call it). Actually, ‘here in Oxford’ isn’t quite correct, because I’m coming to you live from Budapest, Hungary. As you can probably guess, I’m going to talk a little bit about traveling today!
Hi everyone! Welcome back to The Oxford Comma. For today’s column, I want to explore the old-time question that William Shakespeare’s Juliet once mused aloud: “What’s in a name?”
Hi everyone, long time no see! I’ve taken a bit of a break, but I’m back and ready to share my musings from across the pond. Before we get into it though, a little update: Last column, if you can recall, I talked about my experiences with the food here in the United Kingdom. Believe it or not, my relationship with British cuisine took a tragic turn as both my friend and I got food poisoning. Yeah, it was about as fun as it sounds. If you ever find yourself wincing at Dewick’s never-ending supply of pasta, or perhaps Carm’s dry rice, just know that it could be way worse.
Hi everyone! After my brief vacation — or as the Brits like to say, ‘holiday’ — the Oxford Comma is back! As the spring semester starts up, so too approaches my next term at Oxford: the Hilary term. But before I say goodbye to the U.S., I want to dedicate a column to what I’ve been up to during the winter break — more specifically, what I’ve been eating.
