carman-party

Destiny Stevens can’t pinpoint the exact moment she knew she was different from her radically liberal friends, but she says the signs had always been there. While her classmates began experimenting with liberal ideas like canceling student debt and eliminating private insurance, Stevens harbored scandalous thoughts about working within institutions instead of dismantling them.

I often spend empty moments of my day browsing the Columbia Confessions Facebook page to be either entertained or moved by my peers’ anonymous comments. After reading a post about a party hosted by Camp Kesem at the Sigma Nu fraternity house, which was a fundraiser for children whose parents suffer from cancer, I was neither. Here’s why.

Everyone remembers the chaos of their first few weeks at Columbia. For me, it mostly revolved around the grand piano that lived in the John Jay lounge. The piano was a prime source of bonding; it kindled conversations among musicians and non-musicians alike. Anyone was welcome around the piano, and everyone who sat down to play had a different story to tell through their music. During these first few weeks, the John Jay lounge saw countless jazz jam sessions, impromptu classical performances, and rehearsals. Thanks to its accessibility and visibility, the John Jay piano was a forum for practice, musical expression, and cross-pollination. It allowed for the formation of a welcoming first-year music culture within the first few weeks of our time at Columbia. However, the John Jay piano was short-lived, and the story of its disappearance is a testament to Columbia’s lack of commitment to its student artists.

While other schools may have highly attended football games, tailgates riddled with red Solo cups, and fraternities allowed to party, Columbia has the 1 train.

The biggest darty of the semester is upon us. With Homecoming a distant (and faded) memory, we’re here to refresh you with some strategies on how to make your day—and night—as hype as possible.

An unknown perpetrator tore an air vent cover off the wall, marked it with an anti-black racial slur, and placed it outside the front of a black resident’s door in Carman Hall earlier this month.

Let me make one thing clear from the start: I hate Mel’s. Let me also make another thing clear: I go to Mel’s all the damn time. That’s because vitriolically detesting Mel’s is integral to the entire Mel’s experience. If that sounds counterintuitive, that’s because it definitely is. Let’s unpack that.