Linda Huang is an opinion writer and editor at the Tufts Daily. Linda is a sophomore studying Economics and International Relations and can be reached at peixuan.huang@tufts.edu
I want to write this piece to express my disappointment in the regressive state of laws regarding women in the U.S. Three weeks ago, on April 9, the Arizona Supreme Court reinstated a Civil War-era near-total abortion ban that makes the procedure illegal except when the mother’s life is in danger.
In an era marked by numerous global conflicts, a rising tide of so-called civically engaged college students is sweeping through elite universities and bustling city streets, championing ideals of freedom, liberation and justice.
In an age marked by job market challenges and heightened student anxiety about internships and future career prospects, the familiar glow of LinkedIn pervades every corner of the university campus and the mind of every college student. The distracted kid in class, the kid bored from studying in Tisch Library and the one casually chilling at The Sink all have one thing in common: They all have LinkedIn open on their laptops.
For students at many universities, the first week of a new semester is often filled with exhilaration and curiosity. Students add all the classes that interest them to their schedule, sometimes enrolling past the credit limit temporarily to figure out which ones suit them the most. For students at Tufts, however, the scene is quite different. The first week of school is stressful and hectic: Students worry about finding the best combination of classes, maneuvering through plans to drop unwanted classes and add new classes, all while trying to fit into an 18-credit limit and not lose a vital position on a waitlist.
Earlier this month, DoorDash announced upsetting news to all of us avid delivery app users: if you don’t tip your dasher, expect a longer wait. While DoorDash has provided the rationale that this new tipping mechanism allows for a triple-win situation, promising faster deliveries for consumers, higher rewards for delivery workers and increased repeat orders for restaurants, the consequences of such policies become apparent in consumer dissatisfaction.
In the wake of the Oct. 7 Hamas attack, followed by incessantIsraeli counterstrikes, a recurring frustration — triggered by phrases such as “your silence is showing” — has surfaced within me. Whether this sounds all too familiar, or completely novel, the point is that there is often a sentiment that as individuals, we are obliged to immediately post an online statement opining on a global tragedy.
Following the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic, China’s economy incurred consistent downward economic trends as a result of President Xi Jinping’s stringent “zero-COVID” policy. Many foreign firms considered leaving China, factory activities were severely reduced, workers were laid off and the entire economy only saw a mere 3% growth during the entire year of 2022 — the second slowest growth rate since 1976. However, with the abandonment of the “zero-COVID” policy and the recent reopening of the country in the final months of 2022, China has made various attempts to revitalize its lackluster economy and return to its pre-pandemic economy.
