Abusing the anonymity of the internet to level attacks at student journalists' character — instead of their content — is hurtful and unhelpful, especially toward people already doing unpaid labor in a thankless profession.
This day and age, everyone is expected to post their politics on social media whenever there's a major event, but this often oversimplify complex situations and serves as a poor substitute for real activism.
On Sept. 1, I received an email from the Boston Globe opinion section. I have the bad habit of allowing these emails to build up like dust in my inbox, unread and unnoticed, but the headline — which addressed a nameless subject — caught my attention. It read: “We can’t miss you if you won’t go away.”
It rests on our collective conscience to avoid the unnecessary exploitation of a generation who cannot yet spell the word privacy — let alone understand its importance.
The popularity of the Ozempic trend brings to light a truth many have tried to ignore — where progress holds the most social capital, the “body positivity” movement is fighting a losing battle.
How can we appreciate the Oscars for the reward they offer to deserving filmmakers while removing ourselves from the erroneous weight of importance we place upon their outcome?
This recent pattern — in which politicians on preeminent stages across the world are willfully and publicly stepping back from their roles as leaders in order to protect their mental health has brought to light a critical debate: At what point should we sacrifice work for well-being?
We have been deluded into believing that romance lies solely along linear planes, a one-dimensional existence between characters we are nothing like, and worlds we will never live in— but love does not have to be exactly like it is in the movies. And that’s a good thing.
Despite the fact that imposter syndrome thrives off of coercing you into believing your fears are entirely individual, nearly 82% of people struggle with feelings of fraudulence — even award-winning actresses.
