As I see it, affection is practically invisible on this campus. Maybe it’s a New York thing. Or maybe it’s a generational thing—I have no clue. It absolutely doesn’t parade around in the open. Still, it’s there, and it fits into little interstices throughout the day: on a bench between classes, through small talk in passing, in dorm rooms, or on the job. On this campus—where it seems that people don’t have the time or expendable energy for extravagant gestures—love and affection come in short bursts: in moments that are indiscernible to most of us because they’re too short, too discreet, or too subtle....
It was a fast walk. Just eight minutes outside Columbia’s Amsterdam-facing gates, past Apple Tree, Columbia Secondary School, Faison Firehouse Theater, and I’m here. At the quiet intersection of Morningside Avenue and 127th Street, Teachers College Community School stands lonesome and unobtrusive. Its exposed red brick exterior and narrow, neat dimensions seem more characteristic of a residence than of a school. I take another look at my phone, convinced I’ve meandered off course; the building looks smaller and lonelier in person than on Google Maps....
Nine years later, just 1 percent of Columbia’s $10 million commitment to affordable housing has been spent
Outside the West Harlem Development Corporation’s office, which sits on 127th Street between Morningside and Amsterdam Avenue, is a parking lot.
Content warning: this piece contains mentions of mental illness and suicide. If you’ve scrolled through columbia buy sell memes or overheard a lively conversation on the way to class, you’ve likely picked up on the fact that much of Columbia’s humor revolves around cynicism. Nihilism is trendy. Sadness is relatable and therefore comedic. Is this humor healthy or harmful for students and the community? Does Columbia’s culture of cynical humor cultivate community or exacerbate stress culture?...
In the face of confusion, unfairness, and pure evil, it is natural to cling to neat narratives and reductions.
Over this past break Amigos Restaurant, a longtime staple of the Morningside Heights neighborhood, shut its doors. Amigos was never anything that special. It was a cheap Mexican restaurant, known for its heavily alcoholic margaritas. Yet for many people it represented an important place in the Columbia community. On the day of its closing, Max Davidson, a server at Amigos, posted a eulogy of sorts on the Facebook page columbia buy sell memes. “It might sound convoluted to refer to a three-star Mexican bar as a cultural institution, but it is,” Davidson wrote. “Amigos was never perfect; but it was a place that people from many walks of life could join and eat well-prepared Tex-Mex while getting a buzz on cheap, overpoured margaritas.”...
Columbia and its affiliates have made policy modifications to reduce smoking on campus, but how effective are they really?...