Gretta Goorno is the Executive Opinion Editor at the Tufts Daily. Gretta is a sophomore studying political science and history, and can be reached at gretta.goorno@tufts.edu.
Boston’s Chinatown district will provide you with fresh groceries, soapy facials, rows of restaurants designated by their bright signs and sidewalks lit up by red lanterns. As the last major Asian enclave in the New England region, Chinatown also provides a home for many Asian-Americans who desire an intimate community.
As a child, I was frequently labeled a “social justice warrior” and often told I would “make a good lawyer” by random adults. These designations stemmed from both my loudly vocalized views and my tendency to correct any comments that I deemed offensive or not politically correct. Evidently, I have retained my label of passionate verbalization, given that I am the executive opinion editor of the Daily. Yet, over the years, I have drifted away from my strong moral convictions. Nowadays, I often find myself torn between two extremes, taking a moderate stance on issues. I even justify reasoning that ridicules the very identity groups that I am a part of. I try to understand religious justifications against gay marriage. I take a step back, wondering why people believe in a Jewish conspiracy. My tolerance for other views often leads me to question my morals. Perhaps I am too flexible.
Frank Ocean may have some of the most cultish, fervent supporters in the entire music industry. Born as Christopher Edwin Breaux, the 37-year-old singer’s fan-base — and influence — far exceed the quantity of his music. Though he hasn’t released an official studio album since 2016, every year there seems to be rumors that Frank has a new life-altering masterpiece on the way. His fans read into every bit of his life, analyzing his Instagram feed, his mom’s birthdaymessage and even recently, a masked figure on Tyler the Creator’s music video, for a desperate sign of new music. I, for one, have a bootleg vinyl of his unreleased songs — and I’m not even a mega fan. This kind of obsessive behavior is normalized throughout Ocean’s fanbase. Safe to say, fans would give up an arm and a leg to hear another second of Ocean’s sweet melodies.
At Tufts, I am surrounded by curious students and knowledgeable professors. I have never been more cognizant of the inner dynamics of American politics, the countless Constantines of Byzantium, or the various dynasties of pre-modern China. Outside the classroom, I have long conversations with my friends about politics and social dynamics.
In his recent piece, “Democrats, Let’s Get Real About Why Harris Lost,” former The New York Times Opinion columnist Frank Bruni admits that his bubble of liberal peers found it shocking that President-elect Donald Trump won the election, given his erratic behavior and inflammatory comments. At the tail end of his campaign, Bruni notes, Trump suggested we place former Rep. Liz Cheney in the line of fire with “nine barrels shooting at her,” called Democrats “demonic” and declared that he “shouldn’t have left” the White House — a clearly undemocratic message.
On Sept. 16, after 10 months of public accusations, larger-than-life hip-hop rapper and executive Sean “Diddy” Combs was arrested at a New York City hotel. The next day, his indictment was unsealed. The 14-page document charges Combs with racketeering, sex trafficking and transporting individuals for use in prostitution. Although his trial is not set to occur until May 5, 2025, the sheer number of men and women who have come forward against Combs makes his conviction seem very likely.
From Aug. 4 to 6, I was in Paris, watching some of the most talented athletes in the world compete at the33rd Olympiad. As someone who loves watching sports as much as she loves people-watching, I found the Games thrilling. On the streets of Paris, hundreds of thousands of fans sang their countries’ fight songs. Royal orange filled up each stadium — evidence that the Dutch had arrived. Each French athlete — from the unranked sprinter to the record-holder swimmer — was greeted with passionate shrieks from the home crowd. I, of course, rooted for my fellow Americans, waving my flag proudly until my arms burned. But amid this sea of national pride, there was one huge demographic missing: the Russians.
At the Democratic National Convention in August, Hillary Clinton alluded once again to that famed glass ceiling. You know, the one she hoped to triumphantly shatter through — pantsuit and all — during her unsuccessful bids for president in 2008 and 2016. Clinton recycled much of her old feminist rhetoric for her speech at the DNC nominating Harris, suggesting that Harris — like herself — was in a long line of successful women in politics and that the day to break the ceiling was finally here.
If the #MeToo movement didn’t expose the dark and twisted side of stardom for you, the past month certainly should have. When Kate Middleton went missing, conspiracy theories flooded TikTok accounts, claiming that the Princess of Wales was killed in a Diana-esque incident, had a mental breakdown or even had a Brazilian butt lift.
When I was five years old, I would climb onto my family’s circular oak table and hoist myself into the air, miraculously dangling – and swinging – from the faux-crystal chandelier. My third grade teacher can thank me for her fashionable rubber-band “bracelets.” She tallied my “blurt-outs” on them, granting me a prize if I was under ten by the end of the week.
