LETTERS FROM THE EDITOR
INSIDE THE ISSUE
Access Denied: Columbia Clubs and Their Struggle for Inclusivity
March 7th, 2019
Nathan Farrell arrived at Columbia with a vivid picture of what his life would look like. Like many Columbia students, Farrell, now a sophomore in Columbia College, had been heavily involved in extracurriculars in high school—he founded and led an a cappella group (“The Passing Notes”), played saxophone, was a member of student government, and was a peer leadership mentor, all while maintaining his spot in the top 1 percent of the class. But still, Farrell felt like his life would only truly begin when he got to college, where he saw himself “hopping around in all of [his] passions.”..
From Clocks to Socks: What Can’t You Find at the Columbia Bookstore?
March 6th, 2019
Two years ago, I took a weekend trip to New York City with my mom and my sister to check out a few schools. We spent our days shopping, touring colleges, and hitting all of the tourist spots. One morning after visiting New York University, my mom dragged me to the college bookstore to look at apparel. It was a beautiful, sunny day and I wanted to go out and explore my favorite city—anything outside instead of hiding in a store. Despite my reluctance, my mom insisted on looking around, so to kill time, I conceded to her wishes and decided to browse the books. But when I walked through the store, I found so much more. There were socks, bracelets, bags, hats, and even rain ponchos. I eventually stumbled upon a sports bra in the women’s clothing section. Regrettably, I had neglected to pack a sports bra on that trip, so I decided to buy it. It wasn’t what I had in mind for a new bra, bright purple with an “NYU” logo plastered on the front, but it fit the bill...
Pressed for Space
October 30th, 2019
Swiping my MetroCard to enter the 116th St. station is more than a monetary transaction. With it comes my promise to be quiet, to keep to myself, to occupy as little space as possible: all the things that are required of a good passenger on the subway. If the train is more than three minutes away, I wait huddled against the wall, feeling the weight of my hands tucked away in my pockets. Typically, my headphones are in as I attempt to distract myself from the sound of subway cars screeching to a stop like nails on a chalkboard (it’s the one noise I haven’t adjusted to in the city), and all the voices that inevitably follow...