Any contender for the Democratic presidential nomination in 2020 should support packing the Supreme Court — that is, voting to expand the maximum number of seats so the president can confirm a liberal majority.
The 2018 Emmy Awards aired on Sept. 17, 2018 and made history with the most diverse group of nominees ever. Twenty percent more non-white actors were nominated this year than last, with 36 nominations going to people of color. These figures brought many inside and outside of the Hollywood community hope for a positive trend toward inclusion and representation.
Too often women neglect the sexism we ourselves propagate. It is easy to blame day-to-day adversities on the patriarchy when it is such an obvious source of culpability. From people like Harvey Weinstein and Brett Kavanaugh to issues like the wage gap and paid maternity leave, it seems as though the news cycle is teeming with examples of powerful men suppressing women’s freedom and autonomy.
These are the words of wisdom that led me toward my greatest adventure in medical school — an international rotation in Ghana. Pursuing my dream in another country created memories that will last a lifetime and inform who I am as a physician.
I am a woman. I am a survivor of sexual assault, but I don’t want you to simply “believe me” because I wrote this. Why? Because I believe in due process. I believe in “innocent until proven guilty.” I believe the principles of the American judicial system are ones rooted in justice.
I’ve sat through my classes in the past weeks and watched as students halfheartedly took lecture notes while they streamed hearing after hearing on their laptops, like a melancholy version of March Madness. I listened to my peers chat about each new development in the fleeting minutes before professors start lecturing, the conversations no longer dominated by, “So, did you do the reading?”
The United States has a long history of disinformation. One of the first major manipulations of the media took place in 1782 when Ben Franklin oversaw the publishing of an entirely fake issue of the Boston Chronicle. Printed on the pages of the issue was an incendiary story about the scalping of 700 colonists by Native Americans meant to generate sympathy among British citizens for the plight of Americans.
I used to dread the first day of school. I didn’t dread it because it meant that summer was ending and that I’d soon spend my evenings doing homework rather than relaxing. It was because teachers never pronounced my name right. Before I started going by Krystal, I went by my non-American, phonetically spelled (yet somehow still difficult to pronounce) name that I won’t write here because I know no one will be able to pronounce it.