When I was in elementary school, my parents used to take me and my sisters trick or treating at the Natural History museum. My mom would dress us up in some last-minute costume so we could hang out with dinosaurs the Sunday before Halloween.
This September, The Michigan Daily held its Bicentennial reunion weekend. Daily alumni from across the country were invited to return to our beloved newsroom and, among other things, mingle. As many of you know, “mingle” translates into “network” in hyper-competitive college speak.
Midterms. The first sign that your semester is heading down the toilet real quick. It’s like if you were going down a slide but as you start your descent, you smack your head on the bar and just tumble down the slide, lying in a wood chip pile of lost GPA points and self-pity.
From the center of Greece’s largest refugee camp, you’re surrounded by hundreds of temporary housing units. The white, rectangular metal boxes are in precise rows, creating a grid that projects a sense of order.
We're all taught at a very young age that great results come from hard work and perseverance. Athleticism has always fascinated me, and it’s safe to say that most of America feels this way, too. We spend hours of our Saturdays glued to the TV watching football games.
“Forty kilograms,” the ballet instructor announces. Silent agreement among faculty and other students is palpable in the studio, albeit the obvious tension. It’s an easy 4 kilograms below the number where the scale’s needle hovers — a sigh escapes, relief fills my chest.
Xavier Legrand’s film “Custody,” which I watched this past weekend at the Chicago International Film Festival, centers around a custody battle in which two children, a boy who looks to be about 9 or 10 years old and a girl nearing her 18th birthday with one foot already out the door, feel threate