The Georgetown Voice, 01/31/2020

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J A N U A RY 31 , 2 02 0

Mac Miller takes responsibility for his shortcomings and imperfections, never shying away from the truths he chooses to share.

CIRCLES REVEALS INFINITE AND INTIMATE SIDES OF MAC MILLER By Emma Chuck

ARE COMPANIES MANIPULATING MUSICIANS’ LEGACIES?

By Anna Savo-Matthews and Samantha Tritt


Contents

January 31, 2020 Volume 52 | Issue 10

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Celebrating 50 Years

editorials

Vote! Not Everyone Can End Legacy Admissions

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leisure

Let Freedom Ring! A Celebration of Dreams and the Dreamwork KATIE WOODHOUSE

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news

leisure

Executive Editor Features Editor News Editor Assistant News Editors

Running with The Wolves: Nomadic Theatre Production Explores Teenhood and Teamwork

leisure

Primary Concerns: The Oscars Need Student Led to Change Political Activism DAJOUR EVANS Builds as 2020 Election Begins

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Hustlers on the Hilltop

Circles Reveals Infinite and Intimate Sides of Mac Miller

feature

BRYNN FUREY

carrying on

LEINA HSU

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voices

From Friends to Family CHETAN DOKKU

leisure

EMMA CHUCK

My Summer on a Suicide Forum

“If all else fails, I will set up shop here and just make cotton candy, like, for the rest of my life.” PG. 15

Leina Hsu Amanda Chu Paul James, Max Zhang Inès de Miranda Sienna Brancato, Delaney Corcoran, Annemarie Cuccia, Inès de Miranda, Lizz Pankova, Katherine Randolph, Cam Smith, Noah Telerski, Jack Townsend

leisure

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RACHEL COHEN

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Caroline Hamilton Annemarie Cuccia Roman Peregrino Darren Jian, Ryan Remmel, Sarah Watson

opinion

Executive Editor Voices Editor Assistant Voices Editor Editorial Board Chair Editorial Board

SKYLER COFFEY & BROOKE TANNER

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feature

Editor-In-Chief Noah Telerski Managing Editor Katherine Randolph

Are Record Companies Manipulating Musicians’ Legacies After They’re Gone? ANNA SAVO-MATTHEWS & SAMANTHA TRITT

Executive Editor Juliana Vaccaro De Souza Leisure Editor Skyler Coffey Assistant Editors Emma Chuck, Anna Pogrebivsky, Abby Webster Halftime Editor John Woolley Assistant Halftime Editors Lucy Cook, Chetan Dokku, Samantha Tritt

sports

Executive Editor Sports Editor Assistant Editors Halftime Editor Assistant Halftime Editors

Will Shanahan Tristan Lee Nathan Chen, Jake Gilstrap Ethan Cantrell Arshan Goudarzi

design

Josh Klein Insha Momin, Cade Shore Sean Ye Allison DeRose, Alex Giorno, Neha Malik Staff Designers Marie Luca, Ally West, Amy Zhou

Executive Editor Spread Editors Cover Editor Assistant Design Editors

copy

Copy Chief Sophie Stewart Assistant Copy Editors Maya Knepp, Julia Rahimzadeh Editors Christopher Boose, Jennifer Kret, Stephanie Leow, Moira Phan, Maya Tenzer, Kristin Turner

multimedia

Executive Editor Podcast Editor Assistant Podcast Editor Photo Editor

Sarema Shorr Panna Gattyan Anna Sofia Neil John Picker

online

Executive Editor Cam Smith Social Media Editor Eli Lefcowitz

on the cover

business

General Manager Maggie Grubert Assistant Manager of Alice Gao Alumni Outreach

support

The opinions expressed in The Georgetown Voice do not necessarily represent the views of the administration, faculty, or students of Georgetown University, unless specifically stated. Columns, advertisements, cartoons, and opinion pieces do not necessarily reflect the views of the Editorial Board or the General Board of The Georgetown Voice. The university subscribes to the principle of responsible freedom of expression of its student editors. All materials copyright The Georgetown Voice, unless otherwise indicated.

contact us

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photo courtesy of nomadic theatre

THE GEORGETOWN VOICE

editor@georgetownvoice.com Leavey 424 Box 571066 Georgetown University 3700 O St. NW Washington, DC 20057

“Malcolm” SEAN YE

Associate Editors Tim Adami, Delaney Corcoran, Olivia Stevens Contributing Editors Sienna Brancato, Rachel Cohen, Dajour Evans, Brynn Furey, Emily Jaster, Julia Pinney, Lizz Pankova, Jack Townsend Staff Writers Nathan Barber, Maya Cassady, Jason Cuomo, Steven Frost, Steven Kingkiner, Lily Kissinger, Jaden Kielty, Bella McGlone, Orly Salik, Anna Savo-Matthews, Isaac Solly, Timmy Sutton, Aaron Wolf, Katie Woodhouse Contributing Editors Dajour Evans, Damian Garcia, Julia Pinney, Katya Schwenk


An eclectic collection of jokes, puns, doodles, playlists, and news clips from the collective mind of the Voice staff.

→ TIM AND LIV'S QUIZ

→ HALFTIME LEISURE

What type of abroad catastrophe is lurking around the corner?

Steven Frost’s 10 Things Nicholas Cage Should Steal Next in National Treasure 3

Tim and Liv are spending Spring 2020 on the Continent and, needless to say, it’s been dramatic. We want to make sure you’re prepared for any situation. Read on to catch a glimpse into the future of your ~abroad experience!~ (note: all final scenarios are pulled from the real experiences of Tim, Liv, or other Georgetown students) 1. Where will your international endeavors take you? a. France b. South Africa c. Italy d. Hong Kong

3. When­— a. Shut up. Do you want the €3 rose or the €3.50? b. Sorry, too busy playing white savior c. I don’t speak English anymore, I’ve immersed myself... starting now... d. Um, did you just sneeze on me?

2. Where are you staying? a. Host family b. Student housing c. Studio apartment d. Shared apartment

4. How’s your international love life been? a. No b. My MSB boyfriend back home is totally staying faithful and definitely not cheating on me c. Paolo and I are singing at the Colosseum tonight d. “Siri, where is the nearest hospital?” Check your results at the bottom of this page!

→ KATIE’S ANIMAL DOODLE

Oscar the Raccoon → INVITATION

You’re Invited!

Sixteen years after the debut of a modern masterpiece, a new entry in the belovedly over-acted National Treasure franchise has entered development. Find out the 10 cultural artifacts Nicholas Cage should steal by visiting georgetownvoice.com

→ WATERMELON WORKOUT

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s Nico Ferretti (SFS ’21) hefted his watermelon onto a Lau 2 table, he started telling a story about his recent trip to Safeway. He had gone to get a watermelon, which would protect him in the event of an attack in this Hoya Blue game of Assassin. The watermelons on the pallet out front were only the size of dodge balls. He asked the group chat: Are these melons large enough? “No,” they said. So Ferretti asked a Safeway employee if there were any larger melons in the back. “I know what you’re looking for,” he said. A few minutes later, the employee wheeled out a cart with three bigger melons he had plucked from the store’s reserves. Despite the inconvenience of carrying a watermelon, Ferretti has found a silver lining. “This is a workout,” Ferretti said, lifting the watermelon off the table. “I can curl this. I haven’t been to Yates in a while because I’m willingly trying to be unhealthy, but this has been my exercise.” As Ferretti pursues his target, the Voice wishes him luck and safety. We also wonder if he might share some of his watermelon if someone else shoots him first.

Mostly a’s: Your entire host country will go on strike. No trains, metros, buses, or trams for you! Mostly b’s: Your university will send an email home suggesting you quarantine yourself for the next 10 days—yikes! Mostly c’s: Your neighbor will be pushed out of the second-story window of her apartment within the first week of your arrival! (Don’t worry, she’s like, probably okay now or something.) Mostly d’s: Georgetown will cancel your abroad program and you will become the new roommate of four B-frat juniors living in Henle 37—lucky you!

watermelon by jack townsend; raccoon by katherine randolph; nicholas cage & shakira courtesy of imdb; fundraiser by josh klein; la croix rat by tim adami

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→ PLAYLIST

Halftime’s Super Bowl Spectacular 1. On the Floor Jennifer Lopez 2. Waka Waka Shakira 3. Jenny from the Block Jennifer Lopez 4. Hips Don’t Lie Shakira 5. Baila Conmigo Jennifer Lopez 6. La Bicicleta Shakira 7. Dance Again Jennifer Lopez 8. La La La Shakira 9. Let’s Get Loud Jennifer Lopez 10. Boom Boom Pow The Black Eyed Peas

JANUARY 31, 2020

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EDITORIALS

Vote! Not Everyone Can

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he Iowa Caucuses are only three days away. After over a year of campaigning and endless polls and punditry, we will finally have a real idea of which candidates people actually support. Of course, what the people in Iowa think is not a representation of what the rest of America thinks, given its overwhelmingly white demographics and unique economic interests. Even then, the results of the caucus will not represent the opinion of all Iowans because caucuses inherently make it more difficult for people to participate in voting than a primary election. Consistently low voter turnout in elections is often blamed on bad nominees. In 2016, many people felt they had to choose between the “lesser of two evils.” Some people even sat out the election because of this (and to them we say, shame on you). This is an easily solvable problem. If people want to have a say in who represents their party come November, they must go out and vote in the primaries. Nationwide, party nominations historically reflect the decision of only a fraction of Americans. In 2016, just 9 percent of the U.S. population selected either Hillary Clinton or Donald Trump as their party’s nominee. Almost 90 million eligible voters “do not vote at all,” according to The New York Times, and 163 million eligible Americans failed to vote in the 2016 primary elections. The nominations were decided by the approximately 60 million Americans who did vote in the Democratic and Republican primaries, out of the over 300 million residents in the country. This is partly due to difficulty in voting in any election in many states. For instance, Oklahoma residents who want to vote absentee must have their absentee ballots notarized. Not only does the notarization process require extra time and effort from voters, but it typically costs $5. Voter ID laws, which require registered voters to show ID before voting, also present barriers to voting, disproportionately for the elderly and minorities. Barriers are even higher in states that select candidates by caucus, such as Iowa. To participate in the caucus, a wouldbe primary voter must be physically present for multiple hours as each round of the caucus continues. This year, Iowa’s 1,678 precincts will caucus at 7 p.m. on Feb. 3—a time requiring parents to find childcare or workers to request time off a night shift to travel to one of the 1,738 caucus locations. Consequently, would-be voters with families, demanding jobs, and limited resources to travel are functionally excluded from the nomination process. In August, the Democratic National Committee (DNC) rejected the Iowa Democratic Party’s proposal to expand caucus access with virtual caucusing. This was rooted in cybersecurity concerns—a reasonable worry stemming from the cyberattacks on the 2016 presidential election. Instead, there will be satellite caucuses in 24 out-of-state and three international locations, from Washington, D.C., to Paris, France. But the added sites do not address the problem of demanding people be at a specific place for hours on end in order to exercise their right to vote. Caucuses as a whole are not viable in contemporary society, and the DNC has actively encouraged states to transition their processes away from caucuses in favor of primary elections. This election season, the DNC mandated that state election committees improve voter accessibility, which is why 10 states made the transition from caucuses to primaries since 2016, and why Iowa implemented satellite caucuses. 4

THE GEORGETOWN VOICE

While caucuses offer the benefits of community discussion, deliberation, and grassroots organization, this does not justify the exclusionary nature of the practice. Iowa hasn’t made the transition because of the national attention their “first in the nation” status gives them, but the state must reckon with its barriers to voter participation even if it comes at the cost of that status. Caucus states should make every effort to shift to primary elections. Caucuses highlight the challenges many face when deciding whether or not to cast their ballot. As not everyone is able to vote, like non-citizens and disenfranchised felons, it is even more important that those who can make the individual commitment to do so. Voting is the most fundamental form of participation in the direction of the nation and everyone who can vote should exercise that right as a responsibility. Students who are eligible to vote in the upcoming primary election should go out of their way to overcome hurdles impeding their voting rights. This year, Georgetown students can register to vote through a portal on MyAccess, as the result of a GU Votes initiative. Students should request absentee ballots as early as possible to increase the chances their ballots will arrive on time, as late and missing ballots are notoriously common. Voting is the most basic right of a healthy democracy. Local governments owe it to their constituents to make this basic right accessible, and voters owe it to themselves— and those unable to vote—to make their voices heard. G

End Legacy Admissions

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n 2014, Johns Hopkins University quietly removed its admissions’ consideration of legacy status. This January, their university president went public with the change in The Atlantic, noting dramatic increases in diversity Hopkins saw as a result of the elimination. At Georgetown, applicants with legacy status are twice as likely as non-legacy applicants to be accepted. In order to uphold its value of community in diversity, Georgetown must end its practice of legacy preferences during the currently inprogress Regular Decision admissions process. Ending the preferential treatment given to direct descendants of alumni is one of many much-needed steps to make Georgetown the more equitable institution it claims to want to be. Nationally, legacy admissions preferences are practiced by roughly three-quarters of the top 100 American schools. A 2004 study found that legacy status, on average nationally, translates to a 160-point increase in SAT score on a 1600-point scale. It is incontrovertible that legacy status offers a massive advantage to applicants with alumni relationships. The legacy admissions advantage is not enjoyed by a diverse pool of students. Legacy students are disproportionately white and wealthy. Few minority students have parents who attended elite universities, meaning few have legacy status. A 2019 study reviewing nearly 170,000 Harvard applicants between 2009 and 2014 found that roughly 70 percent of legacy applicants were white. The study also found that legacy applicants were much less likely to be flagged as socioeconomically disadvantaged than their non-legacy peers, pointing to a substantial wealth gap. There’s no radical difference from these norms at Georgetown: The Hoya reported in 2017 that legacy students tended to originate from the East Coast and were more likely to be white.

History shows these effects of legacy admissions were intentional. Legacy systems were originally devised in the 1920s to implicitly enforce racial and religious hierarchies in higher education, specifically to exclude Jewish and immigrant matriculants. What should be an outdated artifact has instead been preserved, perpetuating its original discriminatory purpose. Legacy admissions preferences are not entirely monolithic across the country and certainly not around the world. According to an Inside Higher Ed survey of admissions counselors, while roughly 40 percent of private institutions across the country consider legacy status in their admissions processes, only about 6 percent of public state institutions do the same. Five of the top ten institutions globally, according to the Shanghai Ranking, eschew the use of legacy preferences entirely. The argument for legacy admissions often pivots around a nebulous “fundraising incentive,” based on the idea that if the children of alumni are accepted, alumni will be more inclined to donate to the university. As Georgetown builds its own endowment, this may seem like a lucrative rationale for maintaining the legacy preference system. Yet, a study from Richard Kahlenberg’s Affirmative Action for the Rich pointed to “no statistically significant evidence of a causal relationship between legacy preference policies and total alumni giving” after reviewing the top 100 universities. Legacy preferences are at best dubitable as a tool for collecting donations. Moreover, prioritizing profits (no matter how nebulous) over equal opportunity in itself violates Georgetown’s values and diminishes its ability to admit a diverse class. With their change, Hopkins saw remarkable increases in Pell Grant-eligible students among the new freshman class, along with first-generation and limited-income students. Fundraising contributions didn’t decrease dramatically, further proving that providing equal opportunity to all qualified students isn’t a financial liability. Georgetown must follow Hopkins and eliminate legacy preferences. To be clear, this editorial board does not discredit the place of legacy students currently on campus or attempt to undervalue their accomplishments. Irrefutably, students who have enjoyed legacy advantage have also been remarkable contributors and members of the Georgetown community. This being said, legacy preferences give a disproportionate amount of weight to biological ties rather than individual merit. With holistic admissions being incredibly complex, alumni ties in the family should not be what tips the scale in favor of a student’s acceptance. Legacy students themselves deserve the certainty that they are on campus for reasons that eclipse their legacy status. The immense benefits legacy students reap relative to nonlegacy students extend beyond the superficial family tie. With the oft-accompanying wealth comes opportunity, connections, and resources. It is no secret that college-prep classes, private tutors, and opportunity for “standout” extracurriculars all increase in accessibility with deeper pockets. This further skews wealthy legacy applicants to seem more “qualified” on paper than some of their non-legacy peers; the presence of an explicit legacy preference only further perpetuates these imbalances. Importantly, the increase in diversity in Hopkins’ freshman class didn’t occur strictly in a silo: other changes in school marketing and financial aid policies also augmented Hopkins’s diversification. If Georgetown truly seeks to diversify its student body, it will require systemic reform in its entire admissions process, from adopting a test-optional policy to diminishing financial barriers. The removal of legacy admissions is only a necessary first step. G


LEISURE

Let Freedom Ring A Celebration of Dreams and the Dreamwork Katie Woodhouse

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artin Luther King, Jr. Day is a coalescence of the past, present, and future. Not only is it a celebration of a legendary man and the dreams he dared give voice to, but it is a moment to evaluate the current state of those dreams and a call for the necessary work to achieve them. The 18th annual Let Freedom Ring Celebration began with this sentiment. Music director Nolan Williams, Jr.’s composition “Stirring the Water,” a jazzy take on the classic gospel song layered with verses of spoken prose, called for an “anamnesis,” or a purposeful recollection of the past, of the Civil Rights Era and urged for future advocacy. “We must keep stirring the water,” sang the choir. Their message was clear: The fight isn’t over. With this, the Kennedy Center Main Stage audience embarked on an evening of remembrance, community recognition, and, above all, celebration. Williams, the annual celebration’s musical director for the past 17 years, chose this year to announce his “Stirring the Waters Across America” tour, a Civil Rights-themed production incorporating the many compositions he has created for the Let Freedom Ring Celebration. Williams directed both the newly-announced cast of the national tour and the Let Freedom Ring Choir, comprised of vocalists from Georgetown and all over D.C., in “Walk in Montgomery like Jericho,” an ode to the forgotten women of the Montgomery bus boycott. Although recognizing a solemn and significant event, the performance was far from somber, featuring a vibrant drillteam-like dance break. According to Williams, the upcoming tour is not only a musical with social-justice themes, but a dialogue of racial histories

and realities through music-making. The point of the production, he said in his opening remarks to the crowd, is to “Let Freedom Ring [for] more than a day,” and to celebrate the activists of the Civil Rights Movement and encourage audiences to continue the initiatives they left behind. The call for further advocacy on behalf of African Americans was echoed throughout the night. Marc Bamuthi Joseph, the Kennedy Center’s vice president and artistic director of social impact, declared in a rousing piece of prose that America is in the “day after the dream,” alluding to King’s historic speech, and what remains is the “dreamwork,” the labor that must be done for the dream to be achieved. The dreamwork requires an American investment in the black community and an honest recognition of the racial disparities that continue to plague this nation. With this, the night turned to its focal point, the presentation of the John Thompson Jr. Legacy of a Dream Award. The award, the main accolade of Georgetown and the Kennedy Center’s Let Freedom Ring partnership, serves to recognize a member of the D.C. community committed to fulfilling this dreamwork. Thompson, Georgetown’s revolutionary former basketball coach who was the first African American head coach to win the NCAA tournament, was an active advocate for racial equality in college basketball. This year’s award was presented to Sandra Jackson, the executive director of House of Ruth, a Maryland-based nonprofit that provides housing, employment, health, self-esteem, trauma recovery, and other services for women and children recovering from traumatic situations. Under Jackson’s leadership, House of Ruth has increased its

services by over 30 percent and underwent a capital campaign to fund a traumarecovery-oriented daycare center, opening in Ward 7 later this year. In an interview with the Voice, Jackson said her motivation comes from the early years of her career as a social worker in D.C. “The experiences I had on the ground, working directly with families, have given me the ability to lead.” Her previous work means Jackson knows how the decisions she makes impact both the families of the House of Ruth and the employees who work with them directly. Jackson said the moments she gets to interact with families impacted by her efforts are her favorite part of her position. “To hear how specifically it has an impact, that is inspiring.” “At the end of the day, we all contribute to the greater cause,” Jackson said, considering King and Thompson’s legacies. “I’m doing my little part.” Her ability to help others realize their potential, she explained, brings her life enrichment. She believes giving back allows people to experience the journeys and plights of others, which encourages this same enrichment through understanding and resilience. “The bottom line, all of us have a lot more similarities than differences,” she said. “When you are struggling, maybe sometimes you don’t make the right kinds of choices, but it doesn’t mean you don’t have dreams or aspirations.” The night ended with the annual musical tribute featuring another dreamworkfighter, 10-time-Grammy-winner Chaka Khan. A former Black Panther, Khan grew up attending Civil Rights rallies in the 1960s before turning her talents to the stage. At the first sound of her classic ’80s

photo courtesy of georgetown university

design by cade shore

synthesizer, the Main Stage crowd was on its feet, clapping along with the choir for the opening riff of Khan’s 1984 smash hit “I Feel for You.” Once the bedazzled Khan joined the stage, the standing ovation did not cease, as grooving audience members remained on their feet throughout her set, dancing, cheering, and dramatically clutching their hearts while singing along in deep appreciation. The audience was, quite literally, instrumental in the performance, exuberantly contributing the “tell me, tell me, tell me,” to “Tell Me Something Good” and nearly overtaking Khan herself with an enthusiastic rendition of “Sweet Thing.” Khan’s clear, powerful vocals brought the room to new heights, bringing the celebration of the night to a close. In the name of dreamwork, Khan dedicated her performance of her ballad “I Believe,” accompanied by Williams and the Let Freedom Ring Choir, to King’s memory. By the time Khan belted out the final notes of “Ain’t Nobody,” the environment in the room was electric, united, and joyful. The Let Freedom Ring Celebration stands for more than the name of the great man it honors. It is an exuberant recognition and an optimistic reminder of the dreamwork in an America that fails to actively remember the errors of its past or recognize the problems of its present. People like Jackson, who choose to enrich their lives by committing themselves to others, keep the dream from being forgotten. The main takeaway of the night was the same note it began on—“we must keep stirring the water”—we need an American anamnesis, “lest we slip further into the amnesic abyss.” G JANUARY 31, 2020

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PRIMARY CONCERNS Student led political activism builds as 2020 election begins By Rachel Cohen

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ven in a political moment characterized by inter and intra party fighting, Mo Elleithee (SFS ’94) finds the wonder in politics. As director of the Georgetown Institute of Politics and Public Service, Elleithee is thrilled to engage the student body with the upcoming 2020 election. “I still find elections to be magical and watching as the voting actually begins, to see that sense of political community just continue to grow, is really what I’m looking forward to.” At the time of publication, the much-anticipated Iowa Caucus is a mere three days away. In a campaign that more closely resembles The Hunger Games than a traditional election season, 28 Democrats and four Republicans, including President Donald Trump, made bids for the presidency in 2020. Now, with Iowa looming—the first stop on the road to the White House—12 Democrats and three Republicans remain. For universities in the nation’s capital, it can be nearly impossible to avoid Washington politics. The infectious political spirit infuses into Georgetown’s culture, with a motivated student body across the ideological spectrum. When it comes to 2020, student groups have already begun backing their favorite candidates and forming their own coalitions on campus. This isn’t the first presidential election for GU Politics. Founded in the fall of 2015, the institute provides opportunities for political and civic engagement on campus, increasing programming for students each year. Elleithee pointed to the Climate Forum hosted by the institute last September as a mark of the program’s growth. “Four years ago, we were lucky to get one presidential candidate to come to campus,” Elleithee said. “This year we had a two day long forum where we brought 12 presidential candidates.” By bringing speakers to campus, hosting political events, and helping students register to vote, GU Politics holds an instrumental role in broadening political conversation on campus. Evidence of this lies in its programming for the 2020 election, starting with a journey to the Iowa Caucus.

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THE GEORGETOWN VOICE

The four-day-long Iowa Caucus trip is taking six students, along with GU Politics faculty, to Des Moines, Iowa. The students will meet with Iowans and national campaign staffers, attend campaign events, and observe precincts voting. To Elleithee, the value of the trip lies in illustrating how campaigns get out the vote. “So not just sitting down and talking to the strategists or seeing the candidates, but what are the field organizers doing in the final weekend?” he said. Having never been to the Midwest, Grace Shevchenko (SFS ’22) will venture to Iowa, observing the caucus unfold in real time. Shevchenko, a Republican with no vested interest in any particular candidate, believes witnessing the caucus offers her an opportunity to observe the functions of politics unclouded by partisanship. Despite limited influence in the voting booth, the GU Politics trip will grant Shevchenko exposure into the behind-the-scenes action of the electoral process. “I think it would be good to see it from a very objective standpoint without any personal interest because I actually can’t vote in the primaries since Pennsylvania is a closed primary,” she said. “So I literally have no weight in who will be the Democratic nominee.” In actuality, the statewide caucus results do not directly translate into delegates, which are the votes necessary to win the Democratic nomination in July. Instead, Iowa partitions its delegates after the fact, based on the results of the caucuses at the county and congressional district level. “It’s also interesting because there’s no actual delegates that are awarded the night of the caucuses,” Shevchenko said. “So it’s kind of this big fanfare and pomp and circumstance that doesn’t actually amount to anything, technically.” Despite this, the Iowa Caucus holds significant authority because of its timing. Historically, political experts believe the Iowa Caucuses sheds light on the direction of each respective party as they try to narrow down the candidate field. This rings true for the Democratic Party in its pursuit of a nominee to challenge Trump, assuming he is not removed from office by the Senate. As the first chance for Americans to affirm or

deny presidential candidates at the ballot box, the caucus can reveal national trends and ignite momentum. “I think it’ll be interesting to see, kind of, who comes out on top in Iowa and then a few months down the lane, see who comes out overall,” Shevchenko said. Even students not making the trek to Iowa can partake in the caucus. A week before the Iowa caucus, GU Politics hosted its second ever “mockus,” or a mock caucus, in order to educate students on how they work. Sen. Elizabeth Warren received the most votes at the mockus, with 52 students participating overall. On the night of the actual Iowa Caucus, the institute, along with the Georgetown Bipartisan Coalition, Georgetown College Republicans (GUCR) and the Georgetown College Democrats (GUCD)—will host a watch party. Lily Adams, a GU Politics Fellow and veteran of Sec. Hillary Clinton’s and Sen. Kamala Harris’ respective presidential campaigns, will offer interpretations of results as the campaign continues on to the New Hampshire primary. With so many candidates still in the race, Chair of GUCD AJ Williamson (COL ’21) sees the spring semester as a way to foster a dialogue for Democrats on campus. “There’s a lot of discourse happening between students supporting all different candidates. And so we’re hoping that GUCD can be a space for some of that dialogue,” Williamson said. “We’re planning on hosting conversations, hopefully in collaboration with some of those Hoyas for Warren, Hoyas for Pete, Hoyas for Bernie, etc., groups on campus to talk about some of the key issues that there might not be consensus on within the party.” Williamson indicated that the club will focus on House and Senate races in 2020, while the party finalizes its presidential nominee. Yet for some student-led groups, supporting one candidate is their entire objective. Specifically, as Williamson mentioned, the top four polling presidential candidates, Warren, Sen. Bernie Sanders, former Mayor Pete Buttigieg,

design by allison derose


and former Vice President Joe Biden, have generated student support on campus. James Bond (SFS ’22), the logistics coordinator for Hoyas for Warren, reported that the group boasts nearly 200 subscribers to its email list. Sign-ups are growing as the primaries approach, Bond says, illustrating increased student enthusiasm around Warren and her message. With political mobilization escalating in recent weeks, the Hoyas for Warren team participated in campaigning and activism efforts in Washington, phone-banking and working with the Warren campaign’s D.C. office. “There is an exciting amount of Hoyas passionate about Warren and the structural change she represents,” Bond wrote in an email to the Voice. “We have chosen to channel that energy and open up Hoyas for Warren’s leadership to whoever can commit their time and passion—a method of organizing which has been relatively successful.” Sadie Morris (SFS ’22) spearheaded Hoyas for Bernie to support Sanders’s campaign. Her motivation came while home in California, where she started to consider the “urgency” of this political time. “As the fires in Australia stirred up images of my own hometown that caught on fire in 2018 and gave the world a startling glimpse at its impending future and as people around me suggested that a moderate, comforting presidential candidate is what the Democratic Party needed,” she wrote in an email to the Voice, “I felt like there must be something I could do while at school to help the only presidential candidate who has put forth an agenda at the scale and on the timeframe needed to confront the climate crisis.” Following her realization, Morris and her friend hosted a Democratic Debate watch party, during which they hoped to gauge the level of Sanders’s support. At the party, people signed up to join a group message for Sanders supporters. Initially, the list included 12 members, but since its creation, the amount of students involved has more than doubled. Morris wants to implement Sanders’s campaign strategy into her organization’s mission. That includes interacting with people of all political ideologies. “One of the guiding principles of Bernie’s campaign is to ‘talk to everyone— Bernie supporters and non-supporters alike,’” she wrote. “I would like this to be a big part of our organizing efforts too: facilitating conversations between students so people can make more informed voting decisions.” Similar to Morris, Chris Hadsall (COL ’21), one of the campus coordinators for Hoyas for Pete, plans to spread the word about Buttigieg through individual dialogue. “A lot of folks are still getting to know Pete and the values he stands

for, so we’re focusing on posting on social media, putting up flyers around campus, and showing up at GU Politics debates,” Hadsall wrote in an email to the Voice. “Talking to folks in person has really been pivotal as it allows us to convey the positive energy and hope exemplified by this campaign in a way that doesn’t always come across in print.” With around five members of the organizing board and more phone banking volunteers, Hadsall professes his admiration for the Hoyas for Pete team. “Our core group of organizers is energized and organized in a way that continues to inspire me at every meeting.” After watching all of the Democratic Debates, Sina Nemazi (COL ’21), leader of Hoyas for Biden, resonated with the candidate’s call for bipartisanship. “He talked about possibly running with a Republican. I don’t know if he actually considered doing that,” Nemazi said. “But I was like, that’s a really good way of coming together because I think that the problem of polarization and partisanship isn’t going to ever go away.” At the heart of Biden’s message, Nemazi believes, is a call for national unity. “Every four years, we just try and fight, pull to the sides rather than just being like, OK, let’s just put this behind us,” he said. “Let’s just work together and understand each other and respect each other. And that’s the rhetoric I was kind of getting from his campaign.” Although he founded Hoyas for Biden just last week, Nemazi’s advocacy dates back to around November 2019 as a member of Students for Biden, a national network. Through his involvement in that community, Nemazi has met prominent campaign staffers, including Biden’s wife, Jill. “Recently I went to a networking event with Dr. Jill Biden, and I met with one of the deputy political directors,” he said. “She put me in contact with the official head of students for Biden.” Nemazi is currently vying to be the chair of Students for Biden in the D.C. area, a leadership position that would allow him to work with other local universities. His group, still in its early stages, has recruited two to three members thus far. As of yet, no Georgetown student-organized group has been formed to support the president’s reelection effort, according to multiple sources, while there are individuals on campus who support him Whether students are starting their own group or working with GU Politics, Elleithee appreciates student political activism.“Seeing students, sort of, seize that opportunity and really get into it, and really ask interesting questions, and give their own ideas and walk away with their own analysis is something that I just love watching,” he said.

photos courtesy of flickr

Henry Dai (SFS ’22), president of GUCR, plans to unite conservatives on campus during this year’s election. Although the Republican primary is not expected to be as contentious as its Democratic rival, Dai sees room for campus Republicans to participate in the campaign discourse. “As we get closer to the election this November, I also want to create opportunities for members to partake in the campaigning process, from local elections to the federal level,” Dai wrote in an email to the Voice. “It will be a fascinating election to watch, and my number one focus is to foster an environment for healthy discourse and active participation in politics.” As leader of the club, Dai implores conservatives on campus to take part in GUCR in the build-up to the election. “This semester, my approach as president is to make our club a better resource for our members to find opportunities to learn and engage in politics,” he wrote. “My goal is to bring speakers from many corners of our party to bring new ideas and challenge existing ones. I hope this will best empower our club members to rise to be conservative leaders.” GUCR has already announced campaign-related collaborations with GU Politics and GUCD, including the Iowa caucus watch party. Both GUCR and GUCD stressed the importance of bipartisanship leading up to November. The clubs’ collaboration marks a stark change from Elleithee’s college days. “Back when I was a student here during the 1992 presidential campaign, with Bill Clinton, College Dems and College Republicans had separate watch parties. And there was a friendly rivalry, but they were separate,” Elleithee said. This division has mended over the years, especially since the establishment of GU Politics. “Since we’ve been here in 2016 and 2018, everyone kind of went in together for one big campus-wide election night watch party,” he said. “It was a lot of fun. It was just the spirit of civic engagement that everyone bought into.” And while some Americans complain of political exhaustion, Elleithee senses political interest from the student body, a lingering energy from the last presidential race that has continued in the lead up to the Iowa Caucus. “I think 2016 caught so many people off guard on campus. And I remember wondering what that would do to student interest,” he said. “We saw a huge uptick right after the election with students from both sides of the aisle wanting to better understand the dynamics of play and explore that. And that hasn’t abated at all.” G

JANUARY 31, 2020

7


LEISURE

Circles Reveals Infinite and Intimate Sides of Mac Miller EMMA CHUCK

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ulnerability, struggle, and acceptance weave together to form the masterpiece that is Circles (2020), Mac Miller’s latest, and final, album. Thanks to producer Jon Brion, who acted on the request of Miller’s family after his sudden death in September 2018, the project was completed. Now, the finished album stands as a testament and memorial to Miller’s unique talent and irreplaceable character. Circles skillfully balances playful beats and raw honesty, true to the rest of Miller’s work. If Swimming (2018) was about keeping afloat, Circles traces Miller’s eventual path to making peace with the undertow. Soft beats open the album’s eponymous first track and cast a silky smooth feeling over listeners. Tinkling background notes and a softly strumming guitar enter into the mix until Miller’s voice abruptly cuts through: “Well, this is what it look like / Right before you fall.” The entrance is startling at first but entirely welcome nonetheless. Hearing his voice two years after his passing is jarring, yet his appearance feels right, as if he never left. Miller’s lazy rasp lingers over the words, lulling listeners into his world, where he presents them with his unfiltered emotions. Miller unabashedly acknowledges his shortcomings: “I cannot be changed, no / Trust me, I’ve tried.” His steady candor appears again and again—even on faster, jazzier tunes like the next track, “Complicated.” Buoyant yet chill, “Complicated” lays out his desires and his frustrations. The juxtaposition of his raw feelings to his struggles with depression and substance abuse makes every line tender. Hazy sighs trail in the background, and the bouncing tune accompanies somber lyrics: “Inside my head is getting pretty cluttered / I try but can’t clean up this mess I made.” Inner conflict beautifully glimmers in “Good News” and “Hand Me Downs,” yet clarity comes when Miller vocalizes his pain. “Good News” tracks his resignation with the world, which always seems to demand something from him. Plucked strings stir up a peaceful tune, conjuring the idea of someone plodding down the street, deep in thought. Miller enters the scene with a soft musing: “I spent the whole day in my head / Do a lil’ spring cleaning.” Pulled in all directions and tossed by the waves, Miller seeks to settle as he croons sorrowfully, “Oh, maybe I’ll lay down for a little / Instead of always trying to figure 8

THE GEORGETOWN VOICE

things out.” Defeat colors his tone, yet the music traipses along, until it fades out and leaves Miller behind. “Hand Me Downs” crashes loudly, with drums and cymbals, but the smooth feeling of “Good News” continues as Miller trudges through the never-ending drudgery of days. However, this track glides, sliding past troubles and holding onto a person who “help[s] me go the distance.” Baro, an Australian singer whose deep, buttery background vocals accompany Miller, serenades the addressee of the song. Yet in some parts, Miller must go alone, and he bids his partner farewell as he feels himself slipping away: “Until the day we have to meet again.” Despite the melancholy permeating the gorgeous instrumentals, the album features Miller’s tenacity to embrace his whole self: his worries, insecurities, wishes, and everything in between. A laidback recording of a barbershop quartetstyle group introduces “Blue World,” which switches into quick, short beats that seem to be skipping underneath a sunny sky. The song is a promise and a hope for something new and unexpected as Miller decides to approach all problems with his head high: “This mad world made me crazy / Might just turn around, do 180.” During the more even-paced “Hands,” Miller comforts listeners and takes difficulties in stride: “Why don’t you wake up from your bad dreams? / When’s the last time you took a little time for yourself?” The sing-song, higher-pitched note repeating throughout the song is carefree and trying its best to skip along too, without any heavy regard for looming obstacles. Miller’s deeply moving introspections permeate the entire album, reflecting his personal battles. In “I Can See,” listeners find themselves in a dreamy atmosphere. After an initial spiral of electronic beats, the notes and backing vocals, rumoured to belong to his ex, Ariana Grande, stretch to accompany Miller’s efforts at persistence; he declares, “I’m so close I can taste it.” Next, Miller elegantly performs a cover of Arthur Lee’s “Everybody.” Much like “Blue World,” he tethers himself to someone in this track, too: “If you’re with me, I’ll never go away.” Miller hints that although demons plague each individual, the company of another person is welcome and sometimes desperately needed.

design by insha momin

With “Woods,” Miller increases in tempo, but his vulnerable side still manages to manifest. Needy, Miller questions, “Do I, do I, do I love? / Can I, can I, can I get enough?” The confident beat reinforces his openness, showing he has nothing to hide. Unlike the exuberant pride in The Divine Feminine (2016), Circles shows intimacy in a different light. He holds onto his guiding star in “Surf” as well, his voice whispering lightly and interspersed with low, heavy reverberating notes. The track is easygoing, with Miller riding waves for now and preparing for the next set to come. He sings, “Let it go, let it be / We’re all we need today.” Relinquishing control can be the only certain response in the chaos of the world. The album also grapples with the opposite of detachment. The most piercing moments find their source when Miller takes responsibility for his shortcomings and imperfections, never shying away from the truths he chooses to share. In “That’s On Me,” he sings with authenticity, infusing the song with a radiation of goodness. “I don’t know where I’ve been lately, but I’ve been alright,” he reassures. The waltzy tune swings gently, and a chorus of Miller’s vocals shoulders blame just as smoothly, without regret. The album ends on a heart-wrenchingly simple, light song, titled “Once a Day.” Miller sings over sweetly echoing notes: “Don’t ask me what I think / It never really mattered what I had to say.” He leaves advice about opening up but acknowledges the difficulty of it: “Once a day I try but I can’t find a single word.” With that final sentiment, the album closes swiftly, leaving the listener with sobering silence and, later, gratitude for the 49-minute long outpouring of love, honesty, and the winding paths of life from someone so wise yet so young. Simply put, Circles is a graceful goodbye. It serves partially as Miller’s last words and also as the legacy his family respectfully chose to leave behind, without a violation of ethics that can often accompany many posthumous projects. Circles manages to join Miller’s work and the loving memory of him. Each song is a home for a feeling, a longing, or a regret. Circles may have been masterfully completed and curated by Brion, but the essential core of the music erupts purely from Miller’s soul. VOICE’S CHOICES: “Circles,” “Good News,” “Woods”G


LEISURE

Are Record Companies Manipulating Musicians’ Legacies After They’re Gone? ANNA SAVO-MATTHEWS AND SAMANTHA TRITT

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ell, so tired of being so tired / Why I gotta build something beautiful just to go set it on fire?” Mac Miller sings on “Good News,” the lead single from his album Circles (2020) which dropped over a year after his death. Although posthumous albums are hardly a novelty—they’ve been shared after the deaths of many artists, from Prince to Selena—the recent iterations of the phenomenon seem to be something new. They’re not a collection of an artist’s greatest hits or a new live album. Rather, they are conglomerates of unfinished material left behind, constructed without room for the artist’s creative input. These releases are so pervasive that they are rapidly becoming a standard step in the career arc: make music, rise to fame, die, and be memorialized through a patchwork of the material you never got to complete. An alarming trend is the regularity with which these deaths occur—within the Soundcloud rap scene, at least one artist has died each year since 2017. In fact, the deaths seem to be part of the appeal for some fans. An untimely end ties into the tragic images these rappers create for themselves. Resulting albums, especially poignant in the context of artists’ premature deaths, may be just what audiences want to consume, and record labels seem to be more than willing to exploit the legacy of these artists in order to capitalize off of the enormous demand. Many see these posthumous releases as a way to honor the creator. While this is a worthy goal, the way large producers and corporations have handled the matter in recent years suggests these good-hearted intentions are not being properly fulfilled. The quality of the music, as well as the wishes and intentions of the original artist, are pushed aside for more selfish goals. The 2018 track “Falling Down” epitomizes this type of ethical oversight. Lil Peep, who died from an accidental drug overdose in November 2017, maintained tight creative control over his music. He typically released his music independently and remained selective about whom he chose to work with. Columbia Records did not seem to consider this when producing “Falling Down.”

The song is marketed as a collaboration between Peep and XXXTentacion, another SoundCloud rapper who died prior to the song’s release, although Peep could not approve XXXtentacion’s presence on the track. Despite XXXTentacion’s spoken interlude in the middle of “Falling Down” comparing himself to Peep—“And it’s like, yo, if I would have watched interviews sooner, bro we were so alike”—the artists were not on good terms prior to their deaths. In an interview for the website SPIN, one of Peep’s friends commented on the animosity, saying “[Peep] explicitly rejected XXX for his abuse of women, spent time and money getting XXX’s songs removed from his Spotify playlists, and wouldn’t have co-signed that song. Don’t listen to it.” Despite this, Lil Peep is likely going to be most remembered by the general population for “Falling Down,” as it is currently his highest-charting song and most streamed track on Spotify. This may well be because both of the artists featured in the song are dead. The highlypublicized nature of these rapper’s deaths served as inherent promotion for this kind of song. “Falling Down” claims to be original work from deceased artists, but can it actually be called that when the artists who are credited with its creation had almost nothing to do with making it? “Falling Down” is a distortion of the artists’ legacy because it is not a product of their own creative vision, but instead a shabby compilation of unused sounds meant to bolster a legacy which should have been allowed to continue on its own. Though it’s uncertain what will be done with Mac Miller’s legacy, Circles is a more respectful and authentic tribute to the late artist. Releasing this album in the context of his death still seems like it romanticizes the tragedy; however, it seems like something Miller would be proud to have in the world. What makes Circles different is Miller’s explicit intention to share this particular body of work with the public. According to a statement made by his family, Miller was almost finished with the album at the time of his death. For

that reason, producer Jon Brion, who’d worked with Miller on both his 2018 LP Swimming and its intended companion Circles, chose to complete the album. Miller, therefore, maintained a significant amount of creative control over the product. The album was also promoted in a respectful manner, only including one single with the album released one week later, not drawing out the promotion of the album into a spectacle. On the other hand, Peep and XXXTentacion had no input on any of their work being released today. Songs like “Falling Down” only contain short, recycled sound bites from the actual artists, making the song excessively repetitive and giving it an unfinished quality. It is worth questioning whether either of the creators would be satisfied with this song had they been alive for its creation. If companies are going to continue to release music after a creator’s death— as they are likely to do given the highly lucrative nature of the process—they should do it in a way that most accurately reflects the intentions of the artist and their family. The release of these posthumous albums should not be an opportunity to exploit the tragedy of these young artists’ deaths, but a call to action to help artists who are struggling. The mental health of the artists who create these deeply harrowing songs only seems to be a concern after the effects have become irreversible. As long as their sorrow exists to funnel into art, no one is concerned. The deaths of these artists did not come out of nowhere—the symptoms simply made songs that were too popular to cut off. These issues are especially relevant now given the recent announcement that Grade A Productions will be sharing Juice WRLD’s unreleased music. On Dec. 8, 2019, the rising star of the Soundcloud rap scene died from an accidental overdose. How the release of Juice WRLD’s music will be handled is an open question, making it possible to preserve his legacy and reflect his original intentions as closely as possible. Artists should be remembered for what they accomplished, not what others did with their reputation.G JANUARY 31, 2020

9


VOICES CARRYING ON: VOICE STAFFERS SPEAK

My Summer on a Suicide Forum LEINA HSU

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suicide note is hard to write,” they say, almost matter-of-factly. After two months, I have learned not to panic, yet my head pounds as if hearing it for the first time. To be a source of hope, you really have to believe. When someone teeters at the ledge, with the universe’s energy pulling them towards the abyss, you extend your hand. So I type steadily, as I’ve done many times, and wait for a response. Last summer, I started to talk to people on Reddit’s r/SuicideWatch, an online peer-support forum for those considering suicide. When friends asked, my self-described motivations often felt contrived; the truth is nothing spurred me beyond a simple “I will.” Though it’s hard to believe one starts doing something like this without harboring their own sadness, caring about others, at least for me, is its own form of therapy. The first person I talked to described a fear of being happy, having previously been “punched in the throat by life” every time they were. The next person was afraid to not be happy—to feel possessed by a crazed urge to die in spite of a “perfect life” with a loving spouse and good job. Although everyone I talked to had a different story, they were united in feelings of loneliness, frustration, and numbness towards life. Yet something made every one of them make one last bid for connection by writing a post to be stumbled upon by an anonymous stranger: me. Over 170,000 people frequent the forum, thousands of people who would rather reveal their most personal demons to an internet stranger than to their closest friends and family. There is undeniable comfort in anonymity. Every post is a scream into the faceless void of the internet—except the void sometimes responds. And without knowledge of a person’s history, responders are less likely to form judgments based on character, or tack on the harsh qualities that have too often been attributed to suicidal people: attention-seeking, self-centered, deserving of their fate. The remoteness of it all makes me more effective as a peer supporter. As much as I intend to pour patience and kindness into weighty conversations when they occur in real life, I often shut down when confronted with the emotions of those I care about most. Their anguish, combined with my deep affection for them, chemically overwhelms me. With online posts, I can take my time, I can be equal parts rational and sincere. Often, I draft and re-draft a message before sending it. I’ve learned to mirror a poster’s 10

THE GEORGETOWN VOICE

language to align myself with them—adding a few more “dude”s for teenagers, a little more flair for the poetically-inclined. It is an incredibly warm, day-making feeling when someone tells me I’ve helped them. I’ve gotten a few of these, and I remember each one. Between them are the angry replies, the unshakable despair, and, worst of all, the silence. I used to follow up on waning conversations, but I’ve learned to stop doing that. Instead, I let the posters decide how much they need me. On a suicide forum, a degree of detachment is necessary. In fact, it’s essential for people like me to carry the spirit of helping more users without experiencing emotional fatigue. Although I tried my best to view the posts objectively, sometimes I caught myself imagining the face on the other end of the screen—whether it is old or young, weathered with exhaustion or dotted with sunspots. I don’t think I was very accurate, just as I doubt many of them pictured me as a 19-yearold girl, huddled under the covers browsing Reddit during summer break. Yet with these blurry figures, these conjured depictions, I’ve shared moments of intense vulnerability and, I’d like to believe, true intimacy. That is why I tried not to think about the possibility that some of these posters did end up committing suicide. I have attempted, thus far, not to romanticize my experience on this platform. Death is an integral part of each conversation—the room belongs to the elephant. In 2017 alone, 47,173 Americans died by suicide, and that doesn’t include those who survived an attempt. It is our job to give the subject of death its due diligence and treat it with compassion instead of circumventing it. But an overemphasis on death can also impede the process of rehabilitation for those feeling suicidal. Despite its name, the goal of suicide prevention should not be simply to prevent death, but to offer support as the person reclaims aspects of their life. Sylvia Plath famously wrote, “Dying is an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well”—so much so that the head that devised “Lady Lazarus” will always be remembered for its final destination in a gas oven.

Leina Hsu is a sophomore in the College majoring in English and minoring in WGST and art. She likes to call it the trifecta of unemployment.

It is not the physical act of dying that has stained her poems with darkness; rather, her works have always been composites of darkened atoms. When suicide is defined by its final, salacious moment, everything else is seen retroactively, and perhaps trivially, compared to the moment itself. In reality, the methods by which someone takes their own life tell us little about how to help the next suicidal person. Instead, we should take heed of everything that made or makes them living—their relationships, their emotions, their victories, and their losses. The words in these posts matter: They help us identify patterns of darkness in living contexts. In no way am I trying to insinuate that online suicide forums are a potential substitute for professional help. In fact, the guidelines of r/SuicideWatch make it explicit that responses are not to be mistaken for professional advice and peer-supporters are not allowed to diagnose people or advocate for specific types of therapy. Nonetheless, there have been numerous testimonies of psychiatric hospitals further alienating patients with rudimentary therapy, limited contact with professionals, and lack of access to a support network. I believe these facilities can take notes from the environment online forums have created, which rely on connection, empathy, and gentle re-framing. “Thank you for your kind words,” one user writes, “I am seeking treatment soon.” I understand the conversation is over, but I feel good, happy, useful. Perhaps that is the merit of online suicide forums. Both the posters and the advice-givers grow from the empathy the process necessitates, so that they may fill new roles for other people in their lives, creating a cycle of healing. Much of what I’ve absorbed about comforting people, I have started to apply to real-life conversations. The internet is home to communities of strangers with death’s presence looming over them, but never surpassing that of hope. Each post is kindled by a spark of hope that someone will respond and each reply by the hope that someone can get better. So, I extend my hand, and I hope someone will take it. G

illustration by allison derose


VOICES

From Friends to Family CHETAN DOKKU

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hen Netflix users logged in on January 1, they noticed something missing. The show Friends had left after a five-year run. In those five years, it had garnered a whole new generation of viewers and inspired ’90s nostalgia for the show’s original audience. For me, Friends wasn’t just another streaming binge—it was essential to my transition to Georgetown. The whole summer before the start of my first semester was an escalation of anxiety and doubt. While I was excited to be living away from home with new people, I had misgivings about making friends on my dorm floor, in classes, and in clubs. I was scared my roommate and I wouldn’t have similar tastes. Unlike many guys my age, I was never into sports, instead entertained by TV shows and movies. Since I opted for a random roommate, I feared there was little chance we would share interests. When I moved into my VCW dorm in late August, my fears turned out to be true. My roommate walked into our room with a huge, framed, custom Nico Hischier Devils jersey in his hands, carefully shrouded in bubble wrap. It was the only item for which he made an extra trip up the stairs. For the first few days, he was just a stranger from New Jersey sleeping in the bed next to mine. We tried our best to get to know each other but there wasn’t much to discuss after a few awkward conversations about Leo’s and New Student Orientation. It was alarming to think about how little we had in common. Then, one night early in the semester while he was watching football, he overheard me giggling at my screen and asked me what I was watching. I flipped the screen around to Rachel preparing her signature English trifle and everything changed. It turned out that he had not only watched Friends, but he was also a huge fan. I couldn’t believe it had taken me so long to figure this out. In the days that followed, we spent hours talking about our favorite characters, episodes, and plotlines. I told him, “I’m more of a Monica” and he replied, “I’m more of a Chandler.” Then we took some Buzzfeed quizzes and figured out that actually, I’m more of a Ross and he’s more of a Monica. Just like me, he was one of the many teenagers in our generation that discovered the beloved ’90s show on Netflix. Friends opened up possibilities for us to get to know one another in a way we both enjoyed— we didn’t have to try to force our friendship because we had this show in common. We watched episodes together and casually threw around references like “Pivot!” or “We were on a break.” My anxiety surrounding making new

Chetan Dokku is a freshman in the College and is a huge Spice Girls fan.

friends in college started to wear off, too, as I realized that I have more in common with other people than I previously assumed. Friends first appeared on Netflix in January 2015, leading to an increased following among Gen Z-ers. It also garnered viewership from its old fan base, allowing a mutual love of this show to connect across generations. My mom always comments whenever she sees us watching: “I love Friends.” My parents originally watched the sitcom when it first aired—it was one of the first shows they watched when they immigrated to the United States in the ’90s, their introduction to American culture and comedy. Watching the show helped me stay close to my family as I was growing up; it was a way for me to get to spend time with them even as I grew older. Whenever we couldn’t decide on a show, Friends was there, patiently waiting for us. I know it’s a complicated show, it’s unrealistic, and it’s definitely not “peak TV.” Some of the jokes are extremely offensive, especially those about the LGBTQ community and the running gag with Fat Monica. It makes no sense how all six friends live in spacious, beautiful Manhattan apartments, even though many of them struggle to make ends meet as waitresses, chefs, and aspiring actors. But I can’t imagine my life without Friends. Even with all of its pitfalls, Friends succeeded in attracting millions of viewers across generations because it gave such a personal and piercing look into the heartfelt and funny relationships between young adults in New York City. Even people who haven’t watched the show understand the impact it has had on pop culture today. From its premiere in 1994

illustration by deborah han; design by cade shore

to its finale in 2004, Friends dominated the airwaves and made stars out of its six lead actors. It led to the creation of staple sitcoms like How I Met Your Mother and The Big Bang Theory that built upon the same premise of a group of young adult friends hanging out. Given its universal depiction of an American friend group in New York City that has its ups and downs, the show was able to tie together people who saw similar traits among the characters in their own circle of friends. Facing an uncertain environment away from their home, Friends provided a stable source of entertainment my parents could relate to, regardless of how different it was from their own life—just like I found when I arrived at Georgetown. In anticipation of Friends leaving Netflix in 2020, my family and I decided to give it some last love over winter break. We laughed along to Chandler’s quips and Phoebe’s quirkiness, enjoying each other’s company. If you ask me today what my favorite TV show is, I definitely will not say Friends— it’s not extremely funny, and it has a simple, predictable plot. But if you ask me what show has had the biggest impact on my life today, it’s the only valid response. Friends was a valuable part in forming my most treasured relationships because it is a show about when friends become your family. With Friends off Netflix, I feel sad at losing this show that truly impacted my life, but what I haven’t lost is the Joeys, Phoebes, and Rosses I’ve met in life along the way. Because of Friends, I found my family at Georgetown. G

JANUARY 31, 2020

11


LEISURE

Running with The Wolves: Nomadic Theatre Production Explores Teenhood and Teamwork

SKYLER COFFEY AND BROOKE TANNER

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uick hands! Quick hands!” The team captain, played by Bella Carlucci (COL ’23), yells to the goalie as the pair toss a soccer ball across the stage. Running past, the other players dribble soccer balls while chattering about concussions, weekend plans, and ghosts in their houses. In the intimate environment of the Village C Theatre, no barrier separates the audience from the turf-covered stage. Confronted with all the action and secrets a group of teen girls can harbor, audience members overhear each side-whisper and narrowly miss every stray ball. Because of this proximity, the audience feels as though they are part of the Wolves’s stretch circle. The Wolves, written by Sarah DeLappe, tells the story of the titular high school women’s indoor soccer team grappling with relationship differences while coming to terms with their adulthood and the greater world around them. Nomadic Theatre produced the play in collaboration with the Black Theatre Ensemble, members of which worked on the production staff. From debating the legacy of the Khmer Rouge to facing pressure from college recruiters, The Wolves asks audiences to look deeper into the complicated lives of teenagers. There is no lead in The Wolves. Each character is distinct, and the nine-person ensemble exchanges energy and attention throughout. The show’s bantering, easy tone is impressive considering many of the actresses are making their Georgetown theatre debuts. Grace Hermes (COL ’22), who played #11, was one performer who had never done theatre before. “I played soccer for like 10 years when I was little, that was my main thing. I lost all skill but I thought it would be fun to revisit it,” Hermes said. “It’s been a lot of fun playing a lot of soccer with Rachel here.” Rachel Thomas (COL ’22), #46, played soccer until her sophomore year of high 12

THE GEORGETOWN VOICE

school. Hermes called her a “baller,” which she shook off before begrudgingly accepting. In addition to the show’s focus on women, the majority of the production staff is also female. “Something is different in the way [women] are socialized to communicate with each other, and it just makes collaboration a lot more organic and filled with kindness and wonderful to be around,” said the show’s director Jenni Loo (SFS ’21). The Wolves does not try to glamorize women. Instead, it has universal themes and normalizes girls having regular conversations that don’t revolve around men. It is refreshing to see an intentional focus on girls portrayed realistically in a difficult stage of high school. Thomas praised the script. “The girls are really admirable; they’re smart, funny, take risks and they’re brave,” she said. In addition to assembling an all-female cast, Loo intentionally encouraged women of color to audition for the cast and the crew. “I’m a person of color and previously I just felt that there aren’t as many opportunities for me in this theater community as there are for white actresses, and I want to be the change I want to see,” Loo said, noting that one of her goals for the production was “to make opportunities for people of color who might otherwise be typecast.” The ensemble maintains the audience’s focus throughout, in part because of the sparse set, which is mostly repurposed turf from the Performing Arts Department and LubDub Theater’s November coproduction of On the Lawn. For some crew members, however, envisioning such a bare set presented its own challenges. “In the script, it says turf, no lines, no cones, so it can be kind of hard as a set designer to see something so simplistic,” the show’s producer Raphy Hupez (SFS ’21) said. The crew also finds ways to use props, like various cellphone models representing socio-economic status, to tell the story.

The characters don’t have names, just the numbers on their jerseys, but the cast created names for their characters and filled out worksheets to develop backstories. Carlucci shared that she created a playlist for her character, #25. “I always play it when I get in the mindset of my character so I’m like, ‘What would #25 do or think right now?’” Despite the characters’ anonymity, the actresses easily convey individual quirks and personalities. Joy Kim (COL ’21), who plays #00, does a particularly moving job, with almost no lines, as her character suffers from severe anxiety before every game. She deftly conveys a broad range of emotions. In one standout scene, she empties a bag of soccer balls onto the darkened turf, her breathing heavy and mouth quivering. As she frantically chases down the balls, her face contorts until she is left sobbing in center stage. The dialogue can be stilted at times. In one scene, #00 says, “I noodle around on the sax.” The sentiment is confusing and unnatural, but to no fault of Kim—there’s no saving a line so forced. Overall, though, such quips evolve into more substantive interactions. Because the girls talk in overlapping conversations, it presents a choose-your-own-adventure of which dialogue to follow. The play feels like eavesdropping on a private conversation. Most scenes depict the entire team together, with snappy conversation accompanying their quick movements—creating a sense of tense, pre-game excitement. While the concept is fast paced and innovative, the execution can be overwhelming and awkward at times. Many of the show’s most revealing moments, however, result from scenes where only parts of the team remain onstage. #00 says some of her first words to #46 when they are left alone after warmups. #07 makes plans for a boozy birthday getaway with #14 when they would normally celebrate with the team, reflecting their supposed maturity.

photos courtesy of nomadic theatre; design by alex giorno

When a new player, #46 (Thomas), joins the team, they have reservations about her origins, perceived odor, and lack of indoor soccer experience. Thomas manages to command sympathy while providing comic relief in her role. Her character, the awkward new girl, must endure feeling like an outsider amidst a close-knit pack. Many in the team defend her ostracization by emphasizing the team’s long shared history. However, #46 is also clearly a victim of their ingrained xenophobia. After the others repeatedly refuse to learn what a yurt is, Thomas’s delivery of the chant, “I live in a yogurt, my feelings don’t get hurt,” is at once hilarious and devastating. While the team in The Wolves is not supposed to represent a microcosm of modern American teenhood, its members certainly respond to current political happenings and embrace contemporary cultural sentiments. The players may discuss the border crisis in a well-meaning (yet undeniably removed) manner, but they grapple with sexuality, abortion, and anxiety firsthand. The last scene is one of the longest and also contains the least amount of action. The pace slows drastically, to fantastic effect. Recovering from a tragedy, members of the team filter in one-by-one, each arriving to sit on the turf rather than launching right into warmups. The actors embrace the silence and stillness, gradually becoming chattier but still maintaining the weight of the situation through careful pauses and measured bursts of emotion. Ultimately, The Wolves is about differences, and how we can reconcile with them. These characters each have individual problems and backgrounds, but they all want to win. “We are all better for talking to each other and actually bridging those differences,” Loo said. “That’s kind of what soccer does in this play.” The Wolves will run through Feb. 2 at the Village C Theatre. G


LEISURE

The Oscars Need To Change

Dajour Evans

W

hen Halle Berry became the first black woman to win an Academy Award for Lead Actress for her performance in Monster’s Ball (2001), she dedicated her award to “every nameless, faceless woman of color that now has a chance because this door tonight has been opened.” Eighteen years later, Berry remains the sole woman of color to have been awarded that honor. The announcement of this year’s Oscar nominations on Jan. 13 was met with a resounding groan. Out of 20 possible acting nominations, only one person of color was nominated: Cynthia Ervio, for her role as Harriet Tubman in the film Harriet. This film received no nominations outside of Ervio’s performance and Best Original Song, and it’s hard not to see her nomination as a consolation prize. It’s a way for the Academy to say, “See? We know people of color exist.” Looking at the track record of black acting nominees in particular, it appears the majority of performances the Academy deems worthy of recognizing are the ones in which the nominee plays a slave, a civil rights activist, a domestic worker, or some similar cliché. Even when they are recognized for these roles, they very rarely win. For Latino and Asian actors, the Oscars offer an even worse fate. Rita Moreno and Lupita Nyong’o remain the only actresses of Latin descent to win Oscars. However, none have won for a leading role. Not a single Asian actor or actress has ever won the Oscar for a leading role either. Only two—Miyoshi Umeki in 1957 and Haing S. Ngor in 1984—have won Best Supporting in the Academy’s history. In fact, more white

design by neha malik

people have won awards for playing Asian characters in film than actual Asian people. The Academy has a nasty track record of nominating Asian-led films for Best Picture while completely ignoring the actors in those films: Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000), Slumdog Millionaire (2008), and this year’s Parasite. It is indisputably racist to look at these films as technical marvels while universally ignoring the feats of acting that help make them amazing. If white actors can be nominated for solid performances in films that are otherwise widely considered mediocre (i.e. Bombshell), then what do Asian actors need to do to be nominated for films that are widely recognized as masterpieces? These problems aren’t exclusive to the acting categories, either. Another year has passed in which a female director will not be awarded. Only one woman has ever won: Kathryn Bigelow for The Hurt Locker (2010), a war film starring men and centering on the male experience. In general, the Academy has a very stiff idea of what should be considered Best Picture worthy: films about the experiences of men with displays of male rage. Even just this year, Joker and The Irishman both received nominations for the category. Men (white men, to be specific) are at the center of it all. This shouldn’t be surprising—they do, after all, make up the vast majority of the Academy. This means films like Hustlers or The Farewell are punished for meditating on the experiences of women of color. To the voters, this isn’t valuable. In the Academy’s eyes, a film like Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, which dwells on the art of making movies from the

perspective of—you guessed it—white men, is worthy of praise. Meanwhile, films like Dolemite is My Name, which also celebrates the art of movie-making, are not. Big difference? Dolemite centers on black cinema.

Will we only see changes in the years that people call them out, just for them to regress back to their old ways a few years later? So, the Oscars have a racism problem and a sexism problem. This isn’t a groundbreaking, life-changing take. We’ve all known this for years. In 2016, the #OscarsSoWhite campaign launched in response to this exact problem. And then the next year, Moonlight (2016) won Best Picture. The #MeToo movement exposed horrible men in the film industry, and then we saw a female-led and directed film, Lady Bird (2017), get Best Picture, Screenplay, and Director nominations. Get Out (2017) won Best Original Screenplay that same year, with a Best Picture and Director nomination under its belt as well. There seemed to be real hope; small, but progress all the same.

But then, just a year later, Green Book (2018) won—a film directed by a white man that had nothing of nuance to say about race and released against the wishes of its black protagonist’s family. Even more frustratingly, it resembles another Best Picture winner from 30 years prior, Driving Miss Daisy (1989). Is the Academy too stubborn to truly change and welcome diverse stories? Will we only see changes in the years that people call them out, just for them to regress back to their old ways a few years later? This year, Parasite made history as the first Korean film to ever be nominated at the Oscars. A critical juggernaut, a masterpiece of filmmaking, an original, daring, bold script with jawdropping performances … that will likely lose to a war film. This is not to say 1917 isn’t worthy of praise—it’s a technical feat, with amazing cinematography from the legendary Roger Deakins and outstanding performances—but its win won’t break boundaries. Instead, much like Green Book and Driving Miss Daisy, 1917’s win would continue the Academy’s disappointing narrow mindedness. The very first Best Picture winner was Wings (1927), a war film set during World War I. We have since had 15 war films be awarded the top prize. 1917’s win would signify a refusal to change. Nearly two decades after Berry’s historic win, the Academy’s usual nominations lineup looks strikingly similar to 2002—maybe even worse. In 2017, Berry reflected on her historic 2002 Best Leading Actress win. “It meant nothing,” she said. “I thought it meant something, but I think it meant nothing.” G JANUARY 31, 2020

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HUSTLERS W

O N

T H E

HILLTOP

By Brynn Furey

ake up, hustlers! Another day, another dollar on the Hilltop. Georgetown students are already up and at ’em, walking dogs on Prospect Street, swiping GoCards in the Southwest Quad, whipping up a hot café au lait at Uncommon Grounds. They are teaching yoga classes, delivering food, and selling their old books on Ebay. Some are still in bed after working the night shift at The Tombs or playing a late gig. For our resident hustlers, there are no days off. Hoyas who hustle do everything from selling shampoo to DJing parties to make a little bit of extra cash. They take time out of their busy days, packed with classes, extracurriculars, internships, and jobs to help make ends meet, earn some petty cash, or support a passion. Among the many controversial topics of the 2020 presidential race is funding higher education. Candidates, including Senators Elizabeth Warren and Bernie Sanders, have called for universal free public college in some form. Whatever may lay ahead, the current reality is that college tuition is increasing and students need to keep up. In 2015, Georgetown’s Center on Education and the Workforce reported that 70 percent of college students work paid jobs, but even students working full-time at the federal minimum wage rate often cannot earn enough to cover tuition and living expenses. With bills to pay and limited employment opportunities offered by the university, it’s no surprise many students are forced to find innovative ways to support themselves. Christy Felix (MSB ’20) has long been one of the many driven students looking for extra sources of

income. Her entrepreneurial ventures inspired her to start UHustle in the fall of 2018, with the goal of creating a platform for students to share their businesses and expand their clientele base. The website offers a variety of categories from “Academic Support,” which includes consulting and life coaching services, to “Fashion,” where student vendors can share their products and connect with potential buyers. Felix had the idea for UHustle during her freshman spring at Cornell University, while she was grinding to balance her academic and work life while developing the network for her hair braiding business. “I kept having the same customers, which is great, but I knew I needed more customers, more people. I needed more exposure,” she said. “I was like, there should be a website or a platform for students like me where we could share what we’re doing.” After bringing her idea to life and transferring to Georgetown, Felix packed her schedule with a full business school courseload, a work study job in the MBA admissions office, and her new hustle, UHustle, through which she makes a small profit off of every transaction. While she made a decent amount of money braiding hair, Felix sees UHustle as more than just a means to make a profit, but a way to facilitate student business transactions. Felix has a hopeful vision for how it might develop, and she anticipates that by helping students expand their businesses she will eventually make more money through UHustle than she did braiding hair. “I do believe longterm it’s going to go past $1,000 that I could have been braiding here with UHustle because I’m not

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design by allison derose and insha momin

THE GEORGETOWN VOICE

going to just have 25 students at Georgetown. I’m going to have 100,000 students all around the globe.” Felix’s work has allowed her to tap into a market of college students struggling to make some extra cash. For many of these students, side hustle earnings can make a huge impact on their bank account and provide an otherwise unavailable cushion to fall back on. For Felix, they allow her to make money while also making a difference in the lives of other students. *** “What would you do if you had an extra $1,000 a month? What would you do if you had an extra $5,000 a month?” Olivia Jenkins (COL ’20) runs the Voice through her recruitment pitch. As a consultant for Arbonne, a network marketing company for beauty and wellness products, Jenkins earns a profit by selling her products and enlisting new members to her sales team. Multiple streams of income can go a long way for low-income students like Jenkins. She got involved with Arbonne a year and a half ago and has been involved ever since. Last semester, she was in five classes, worked a 20-hour internship at Women for Women International, spent 15 hours at her job in Lauinger Library, and volunteered at her church on the weekends. But she found pockets of time to develop her side hustle, and at her current level as a District Manager for Arbonne, she can profit $200 to $1,000 every month. At minimum, she earns enough to pay for her groceries and transportation around D.C.


Jenkins was initially skeptical about Arbonne because network marketing businesses often have a pyramid-scheme stigma associated with them. After watching her mother and her godmother succeed in the business, she did her research and decided to try it out. “I remember when I got my first sale, and I was like, ‘What the heck? This actually works?’” Like many other hustlers at Georgetown, Jenkins was drawn to the idea that she could be successful despite her credentials. “It doesn’t matter who I was, didn’t matter that I grew up in Washington Heights in New York. It doesn’t matter that my dad just lost his job. I was like, ‘Okay, if anybody can do this business, anyone can be me.’” she said. “So, I’m going to try it.” Felix, raised by a single mother who has supported her family by hustling, carries herself with a similar drive. Before she got started with UHustle, she manifested her affinity for business through multiple projects. In high school, she started a skincare business and sold handmade soaps, body butters, and lotions. However, she switched her focus to braiding hair during her freshman year of college when she was looking to make an extra bit of money outside of her work study position. Braiding just one head of hair can take up to six or seven hours, and Felix says she once started doing a customer’s hair at 2 a.m. “I made about $80 per [person] which was good,” she said. “I was doing about two, three [customers], and sometimes, if I was really dedicated, like the weekend of my birthday, I made about $1,000. I was doing them back-to-back after classes, at night.” Though Atiyyijah Ramsey (COL ’21) and Jubilee Johnson (COL ’19) are no strangers to that kind of routine, their business narrative unfolded a bit differently. Neither woman set out to start a side hustle, but they found their natural talents could reap them some substantial benefits when friends encouraged them to sell their services. Ramsey started making her own wigs in her junior year of high school, and even after she arrived at Georgetown, she only focused on her own hair care. It wasn’t until people started commenting on how good her hair looked that she considered applying her skills for a profit. “I never really thought about that, but then I started practicing more on some of my friends. And then I realized I was pretty good, so I put a price to it because I’m a struggling college student,” she said. She began to hand sew wigs and charge for the wig unit itself plus installation. While balancing three jobs in the RHO, at Vital Vittles, and as an exam proctor, Ramsey gradually learned how to be most efficient in her creation process, cutting down the time it took her to make one unit from a full day to just 45 minutes. She perfected her technique, and in just one year, she has saved up over $10,000 through her side hustle. While Ramsey started styling hair in high school, Johnson’s love for crochet dates back to elementary school, when she bought a crochet kit at the Scholastic Book Fair. As she got older, she started making stuff for herself and her friends, and, one day in her junior spring, she posted a picture of a top she made. “Someone replied to me like, ‘Oh my gosh, how much are you selling those for?’” Johnson said. “I didn’t think anything of it because I just posted it for me. So I was like, ‘Oh no, I’m actually not selling this.’ And she’s like, ‘Oh, you should. I would totally pay for this.’” Even though she already had a work study job at the Georgetown Athletics Ticket Office, she seized the

opportunity to make some extra money doing something she enjoyed. She transformed her second Instagram account into an online boutique, posting pictures of her friends modeling her knit crop tops in a range of solid hues and rainbow ombres. She made $500 in the first semester. “That was my nice extra fun cash, like if I wanted to go out or have a little something extra. So I had my work study for primary needs like books and actual food and necessities,” she said. “Whereas the crochet, I guess it was more so like my petty cash just for fun.” Johnson wove her string into gold doing something she already loved, much like Aliyah Williams (SFS ’20) has set out to do. Williams has been baking with her family

“It doesn’t matter who I was, didn’t matter that I grew up in Washington Heights in New York. It doesn’t matter that my dad just lost his job. I was like, ‘Okay, if anybody can do this business, anyone can be me.”

since she was young, and it has been a defining part of her identity. When she got to college, she would often make desserts and share them with her friends, investigating different flavors like Oreo (a fan favorite) and red velvet, her most recent experiment. It was not until last semester that she thought of making a profit for her cheesecakes. Despite taking four classes, putting in hours as an event assistant for Georgetown Event Management Services and as a tutor for the Center for Social Justice’s After School Kids program through her work study, and codirecting Black Movements Dance Theatre’s upcoming show, she decided to start her business over winter break, just in time for this busy semester. “I thought this would be a cool way to make extra income while also doing something I really enjoyed doing. But not necessarily like, ‘Oh I’m after the dollars,’” she said. “I think it’s something really, really fun, and

I like being creative in that aspect and exercising my creativity in different ways.” And then there is a different kind of culinary artist. Cue Ed Shen (MSB ’23). Like any freshman student, Shen packed his bags last August and moved into his new home on the Hilltop. But when Shen settled into his VCW room, he unpacked something most new students didn’t bring: a cotton candy machine. He started making cotton candy for his floor in this tiny bowl, taking almost 2 minutes to make just one cone. But when people began offering to pay, his new business, SugarED, was born, and he started selling across campus. He bought a bigger, faster machine and reinvested his profits to expand his flavor options, which now include the recent additions of cherry and grape. “My goal, I don’t think, is to make profit because if it was, I feel like there are more profitable things to do than cotton candy. But it is just like a very calming thing,” Shen said. “I feel like most people have the same connotations with it. It’s just happy. It’s like childhood. And I feel like we all need that because it’s here, and it’s hard, and it’s Georgetown.” But when it comes to turning passion into profit, some student artists constitute a unique category of hustlers for whom getting paid is often more of a perk than an expectation. Eric Dickstein (COL ’21), vocalist and keyboardist for soul-rock band Melt, and Felix Pilkington (COL ’20), otherwise known as DJ Felix, would be performing regardless of the pay, but the extra cash is certainly a plus. Dickstein and his friends started their band back in high school, and, even though they are currently scattered at different schools, they still tour together. The septet gets paid both for gigs and through their music on Spotify. However, Dickstein loves what he does and doesn’t need money to motivate him. In his mind, most artists would be making art despite the pay but money allows them to support themselves and continue to create. Pilkington’s case corroborates Dickstein’s theory. Artists still have to invest time and resources into their music and find a way to sustain their creative process, even if getting paid isn’t the main goal. Pilkington has been DJing since last fall and it can make him enough money to buy groceries, reinvest in music software, or treat himself to clothes or concert tickets. But he doesn’t get paid for every gig; he only charges if the event presents itself to be more like work than fun. “For those kinds of gigs, I’d rather be paid because it feels like I’m more willing to play stuff that isn’t really my own taste that might be more appropriate,” he said. Shen hustles to break even while doing something that makes him happy. Ramsey hustles to channel her styling skills into savings. Felix hustles because entrepreneurship is built into her DNA. Each Hoya has their own motivation for cultivating a side business, and they all benefit in some way from leaning on multiple streams of income. At the end of the day, hustling gives students more financial options that can range from some extra cash for a night out in D.C., hefty savings for the future, or a fallback plan if nothing else works out. As Shen said, “If all else fails, I will set up shop here and just make cotton candy, like, for the rest of my life.” G

JANUARY 31, 2020

15


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