The Georgetown Voice, April 13th, 2018 by The Georgetown Voice

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How Nationals Park Transformed the Riverfront page 10

April 13, 2018

THE GEORGETOWN VOICE Volume 50 • Issue 15

staff editor-in-chief Alex Boyd Managing editor JAKE MAHER news

executive editor lilah burke Features editor ALEX LEWONTIN assistant features editor EMILY JASTER news editor MARGaRET gach assistant news editors noah telerski, katya schwenk

culture

executive editor mike bergin Leisure editor Amy GUAY assistant leisure editors brynn furey, Mary Mei, Xavier Ruffin Sports editor jorge deneve Assistant sports editor Santul Nerkar, Aaron Wolf

“NATS Park” by EGAN BARNITT

opinion

contents Editorials

Carrying On: “Don’t Forget the Happy Thoughts” Dajour Evans

Hard Truths or Soft People? Ava Rosato

Dieuson Octave and Me Max Fredell One-Two Punch: Georgetown Club Boxing Mixes Combat with Camaraderie Santul Nerkar

How Nationals Park Transformed the Riverfront Graham Piro

8-9 10-11

Dean Deacon on Diversity of Class of 2022 Damian Garcia

Creative and Emotional, A Quiet Place is A Parent’s Worst Nightmare Brynne Long

She Kills Monsters is Bursting with Friendship, Foes, and Fantasy Suna Cha

Two Trains Running Meanders to a Comfort Food Finish at Arena Stage Anne Paglia

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 Georgeton Voice, unless otherwise indicated.

editor@georgetownvoice.com Leavey 424 Box 571066 Georgetown University Washington, DC 20057

Executive editor CHRIS DUNN voices editor SIENNA BRANCATO Assistant Voices editors Lizz Pankova, Julia Pinney Editorial Board jon block, Nick Gavio, Alli Kaufman, Caitlin Mannering, GRAHAM PIRO, Isaiah seibert, PHillip Steuber, Jack Townsend

halftime

Leisure editor Claire goldberg assistant leisure editors Dajour Evans, Rachel Lock, Eman Rahman Sports editor Beth Cunniff Assistant sports editor Teddy Carey, Jake Gilstrap, Tristan Lee

design

Executive editor Jack Townsend Spread editor Jake Glass Photo Editor Rachel Zeide cover Editor aicha nzie assistant design editors Delaney Corcoran, Margaux Fontaine, Egan Barnitt, Lindsay Reilly Staff designers Matt Buckwald, Rachel Corbally, Alexandra Falkner, Samantha Lee, Sarah Martin, Janis Park, Max Thomas

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copy chief audrey bischoff assistant Copy editors Cade Shore, Hannah Song editors Mya Allen, Leanne Almeida, Mica Bernhard, Kate Clark, Kate Fin Nancy Garrett, Caroline Geithner, Isabel Paret, Madison Scully, Maya Tenzer, Neha Wasil

online

website editor Anne Freeman Podcast editor Gustav Honl-Stuenkel assistant podcast editor Parker houston social media editor isaiah seibert MULTIMEDIA editor DANIELLE HEWITT

business

general manager naiara parker assistant manager of alumni outreach anna gloor assistant manager of accounts & sales karis hawkins

support

contributing editors Cassidy Jensen, Kaei Li, Graham Piro, Rebecca Zaritsky associate editors Jonny Amon, Emma Francois, Nicholas Gavio, Allison Kaufman, Isabel Lord, Caitlin Mannering, Devon O’Dwyer

Staff writers

Umar asif, MOnica Cho, Rachel Cohen, Annie Coyne, Damian Garcia, jayan hanson, Brynne Long, Shadia Milon, Brice russo, Will Shanahan, cam smith, Errol French, Zach Pulsifer, Bradley Galvin

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Read & Listen on georgetownvoice.com NEws

Court Rules Against University, Neighborhood in Aircraft Noise Petition By Noah Telerski News assistant Noah Telerski covers the U.S. Court of Appeals’ panel decision to strike down a challenge from Georgetown University and other neighborhood groups against the Federal Aviation Administration. The challenge focused on the noise pollution of Reagan National Airport flight paths over the Georgetown area.

Halftime Sports Los Angeles, You’re Welcome By Jorge DeNeve Following Zlatan Ibrahimovic’s debut for LA Galaxy, sports editor Jorge DeNeve analyzes the Swedish superstar’s career and what his move means for the MLS. Read more to learn how much Ibrahimovic has in the tank.

Halftime Leisure

Maids to Make Wives: Jamestown Review

By Brynne Long The long-awaited PBS Masterpiece series Jamestown just hit Amazon Prime in the U.S., and leisure writer Brynne Long has you covered for Episode 1. Read the full review to learn how PBS portrays the colony’s disastrous beginnings.

Defenders United

Podcasts

In Episode 3, Cheryl Sobeski-Reedy discusses her experiences as a young female attorney at a time when the profession was comprised mainly of men. She speaks about the “Kids for Cash” scandal of 2009, the opioid epidemic, and how to sustain a career in public defense for over 20 years.

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EDITORIALS

April 13, 2018

Howard Students Take Necessary Action Hundreds of Howard University students staged a nine-day sit-in late last month to protest misappropriated financial aid funds, long-standing deterioration of housing conditions, and lack of transparency in administrative communications. HU Resist, a student-led social justice group, organized the occupation, the longest in the university’s history, refusing to leave the Mordecai Wyatt Johnson Administration Building until their demands were met. This editorial board supports both the right of the students at Howard University to protest their administration and the students’ demands. Since its founding, the Voice has taken a strong stance in favor of the right of college students to protest and demand change. In this situation, we express similar support of Howard student-protesters. We’re all D.C. college students, and the struggles of some deserve the attention of all. Tension between the students and the administration reached a fever pitch after winter break, when students returned to discover that the campus heating system was broken, causing Howard to delay its spring semester start date by a week. The progressive decline in campus infrastructure coincides with both a seemingly unsustainable push from the university to drastically increase its class size, and the sale of two dorm buildings to non-university developers. The catalyst for the sit-in came when an anonymous whistleblower, using the name Veritas1867, post-

ed information on Medium demonstrating that Howard officials misdirected $369,000 in financial aid funds to six university employees from 2011 to 2016. Howard President Wayne Frederick acknowledged the truth of this report. These six employees have since been fired. Prompted by this information, and a long list of worsening conditions on campus, student-activists sprang to action. HU Resist’s demands included combating campus rape culture, advocating for better housing conditions, and disarming campus police. Georgetown, along with universities across the country, experiences high levels of sexual assault and harassment, undoubtedly perpetuated by pervasive rape culture on college campuses. This editorial board has written in the past about campus sexual misconduct, urging students to participate in last year’s campus climate survey and advocating for further action, so we recognize the importance of this demand in ensuring student safety on campus. Regarding Howard’s unacceptable housing conditions, all universities owe it to their students to heat dorm rooms during winter and to fulfill other basic living needs. Additionally, Howard’s recent decisions to sell dorm buildings to external developers while there are not enough living accommodations for current students is tone deaf at best and unconscionable at worst. These former dorm buildings will transform into expensive apartments, contributing to the gentrification of the local neighborhood and preventing students from living in them. This editorial board has addressed the importance of affordable

housing in the past, as well as the unacceptable deterioration of housing conditions in D.C. in general. This editorial board also supports disarming Howard University police. HU Resist has called for the creation of a Police Oversight Committee to regulate police behavior on campus. This demand stems from a desire to emphasize a preventative approach to police violence; they argue that disarming officers will drastically lessen the potential for lethal violence. Howard and the University of the District of Columbia, both historically black universities, are the only D.C. universities with armed campus police officers. This editorial board finds the very idea of an armed campus police force to be unsettling. The sit-in at Howard ended on April 6, with the university conceding to some student demands. The university extended the housing application deadline, since before they had provided only a day’s notice, which was prohibitive for some students who did not have such easy access to the $200 deposit fee. They also agreed to establish student task forces to review the university policies relevant to the other demands. These concessions by the university show that student protests can cause real change within seemingly isolated and inaccessible institutions. While many of the issues occurring at Howard are school-specific, we still believe that cross-school solidarity is essential. Georgetown students should take the voices of their fellow students seriously. We must affirm the right of all students to demand change at their universities.

Teacher Walkouts Show Unfair Conditions Teachers across the country are walking out of classrooms for better pay and support from their state governments. Starting in West Virginia, where a nine-day strike resulted in a 5 percent pay raise for teachers, and spreading to Oklahoma and Kentucky, teachers are mobilizing to protest poor pay, bad benefits, and cuts to school budgets. This editorial board supports these teachers and their right to strike, as well as their demands for better pay and school funding. Their actions intersect with issues on our own campus as the Georgetown Alliance of Graduate Employees (GAGE) recently made an agreement with the university to be able to organize and be represented by the American Federation of Teachers (AFT), a union that represents more than 1.7 million school employees across the country. These teachers’ grievances include low wages, which are a result of poorly structured pay scales for experience and advancement, and pay freezes. In many cases, teachers have to work in classrooms with textbooks that are decades out of date and chairs and desks which are just as old. They often have to pay for other supplies with their own money.

These challenges have led to teacher shortages in some states, as the job is unappealing even to those who want to educate. Instead of improving pay and school conditions, states like West Virginia have floated proposals to lower the requirements to become a teacher to expand the applicant pool. Not only would decisions like this make schools worse for the children who attend them, but also they ignore the problems that drive people away from teaching in the first place. These problems are symptoms of a larger phenomenon of state school budgets facing cuts where politicians do not want to raise taxes. In an attempt to appease the teachers before the strike, the Oklahoma state legislature recently passed a tax increase. It was the first time Oklahoma had passed a tax increase in 28 years. Other legislative practices keep teacher wages down. Right-to-Work laws weaken the power of public employee unions to collectively bargain and negotiate better wages and benefits in their contracts by allowing people to not pay dues if they do not wish to join the union. Oklahoma adopted this policy by referendum in 2001, while West Virginia and Kentucky instituted it more recently, in 2016 and 2017 respectively. It is easy to let the struggles of these teachers slip from our minds given that these states are smaller and more rural and that few Georgetown students call these places home. In

2017, four students from Kentucky enrolled at the university, as did three students from West Virginia. Oklahoma had no students enroll that year. While there might not be many Hoyas from these states, what happens there can affect every state in the country. Oklahoma and Kentucky teachers took their cues from the success of the walkout in West Virginia, and this type of action could continue to spread. The ability of teachers to collectively bargain also could have impacts on the Georgetown community as GAGE works towards AFT representation. As this board has supported GAGE during its campaign, we will support teachers and other public employees across the country who wish to organize. The challenges that teachers in these and many other states face, and that prompted these walkouts, serve not only as a detriment to the teachers, but to their students as well. Teaching is a noble profession, one that does not receive the respect or compensation it deserves. Investments in public education are investments in the future of our country. We will support these teachers until their demands are met and they can return to their classrooms with the resources to do their jobs to the best of their abilities, and give every one of their students the best education they can receive.

Read on georgetownvoice.com: another editorial on the media and police shootings.

THE GEORGETOWN VOICE

Carrying On: “Don’t Forget the Happy Thoughts” Dajour Evans is a Halftime leisure assistant in the College majoring in sociology and double minoring in English and film and media studies.

“Believe me, sweetie, I got enough to feed the needy / No need to be greedy, I got mad friends with Benz’s” The lyrical musings of The Notorious B.I.G blasted on the speakers as everyone rapped and danced along, no one missing a single word. I enthusiastically watched one of my closest friends, along with my roommate and all of the others in the exhibit, share in the collective joy that permeated the room. I did not know most of these people, but I felt a sense of belonging that I hadn’t experienced since I first arrived at Georgetown’s front gates. These people were my people. We shared a history, a rich culture that we celebrated right then and there at the National Museum of African American History and Culture. The sample of “Big Poppa” ended, and everyone laughed. Some people left the room to explore the rest of the museum, and new people entered. I stayed behind, scrolling through the electronic screen that stood in the center of the room, looking for a new song to play. “Drug dealin’ just to get by / Stack ya’ money till it gets sky high / We wasn’t s’posed to make it past 25 / Joke’s on you, we still alive” I could see a lot from the windows of my 18th floor apartment in a rundown housing project. Growing up, I often spent long periods of time staring out and watching the people of my neighborhood go about their days. I remember one time when I happened to see my best friend and her mother leaving their apartment building. I yelled her name multiple times from the window, and, surprisingly, she heard. She waved and dropped her bags in the process. I laughed. Brownsville, Brooklyn is my home. It’s not a neighborhood with a good reputation. Drugs, gang activity, and gun violence plague the area. It often seemed like I was hearing about someone from Brownsville being killed on the news everyday. And from our windows, I would see ambulances flying by, bodies being carried on stretchers. I would hear gunshots and stare out blankly, trying to find their source in what felt like an all-toocommon routine. I didn’t know then, but what I was seeing was pain. The pain of people who have to deal with generations of systemic racism and still try to survive somehow. But, out of those very same windows, I also saw children playing in sprinklers, water guns in hand, smiles bright, laughter booming. I saw young men playing basketball on the court. I

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Listen to the accompanying podcast, Fresh Voices, on georgetownvoice.com saw my best friend leaving to go shopping with her mother. I heard R&B and hip-hop coming from car speakers at cookouts, where families came together, laughed, ate, and enjoyed each other’s company. I saw strength. I saw resilience. “Do you hear me, do you feel me? / We gon’ be alright” Another black man was killed by the police earlier this month in Crown Heights, Brooklyn, where many of my closest friends live. His name was Saheed Vassell. He was holding a pipe. They thought it was a gun. They shot him 10 times. When Trayvon Martin was killed, I was 13 and in eighth grade. Wrapping my head around what had happened—the injustice of his murder and the complete waste of life, not to mention the acquittal of his murderer and the way in which people actually believed Martin deserved to be killed—was difficult to say the least. But I felt comfort in the fact that the confusion and hurt that I was feeling was shared by those surrounding me. It was a collective pain and a joint uplifting as we all worked to grasp what had happened. Many more black people would be unjustly murdered after Trayvon Martin. Each one hurts as much as the last, but I feel the solidarity of my community when I see videos of protests, whether it’s on the news, Facebook, or most recently on a Snapchat recording of the rally in Crown Heights. I feel solidarity and hope through their chants that we will be alright. “Say my name, say my name / When no one is around you / Say baby I love you / If you ain’t runnin’ game” I used to hate how loudly my mother played her music when she cleaned the house. One minute, I’d be in the living room watching television, and the next I wouldn’t hear anything except Destiny’s Child. I would sit and watch her clean; sometimes I’d bring my dolls downstairs and play with them. All the while, Beyonce’s voice rang through the house. When I was a kid, I hated this because it was so loud. But now, as I’m walking across campus, Destiny’s Child blasts in my ears through my headphones. Going from a predominantly black neighborhood and predominantly black schools to Georgetown was difficult, and I had expected as much. I figured I’d be the only black girl in some of my classes and that it would take a while to adjust to not always being around people who looked like me. But I did

not expect to feel so far apart from the black community that raised me, uplifted me, and got me to where I am. I did not expect to feel so isolated in my experience as a black woman in this country. You’d be hard-pressed to find me walking around campus without headphones in my ears. When I’m listening to music as I walk, I feel that solidarity again as each song brings me back to my community in different ways. Whether I’m physically close to my people, singing with them like in the museum, or walking to the music of Whitney Houston, Mary J. Blige, or Chance the Rapper playing in my ears, navigating Georgetown becomes much less mentally draining. I feel the beauty, strength, and persistence that my community has instilled in me, and I am able to keep going. “I got royalty, got loyalty inside my DNA”

Dajour’s Songs “Big Poppa” - The Notorious B.I.G “We Don’t Care” - Kanye West “Alright” - Kendrick Lamar “Say My Name” - Destiny’s Child “DNA” - Kendrick Lamar “Same Drugs”- Chance the Rapper

APRIL 13, 2018

Hard Truths or Soft People? I remember being very confused as a child listening to Queen’s “Another One Bites The Dust.” My underdeveloped brain could not fathom why anyone would find dust appetizing. I contemplated the weird things I’d tried in the past, like that one time I ate a dog treat when I was 7, but I just couldn’t get behind dust. After growing up and realizing what “biting the dust” really meant, I’m grateful for two things in retrospect. For one, despite my curiosity I never actually ate dust, although I did think Queen was all for it. Secondly, I now understand just how powerful a euphemism can be. From childhood warnings against “adult beverages” to classroom chats over who “cut the cheese,” euphemisms are a crux for referencing all things acceptably unacceptable. And there seems to be an intuitive reason for why we use them in the first place: The truth can be difficult, and we don’t always like facing it. Even etymologically, the word “euphemism” comes from what appears to be an innate need to sugar coat. Deriving from the Greek euphemismos (eu ‘well’ + phēmē ‘speaking’), euphemisms were used both to replace words deemed unfavorable and to avoid using words of ill-omen during religious ceremonies. For instance, prisons were referred to as “chambers,” while an executioner was called “the public man.” And when it came to addressing the ancient female goddesses of vengeance, Erinyes, the ancient Greeks did not hesitate to say “Eumenides” instead, meaning “the kindly ones.” Suddenly, the previously known “infernal goddesses” were now understood as something totally different. Where the logic connects here, I’m not so sure. I don’t usually understand feelings of vengeance to be kindly; mostly I see vengeance as malicious, but this seems to be the paradox. I can see how labeling vengeance as kindly helped the ancient Greeks sleep at night, but there has to be a cost in averting negative emotions. Sure, they avoided some bad omens, but there’s a danger in disregard. Vengeance taken as kindness will eventually become just kindness if we refuse to acknowledge reality. At that point, any real feelings of vengeance will never be addressed, although they’ll still exist. And that definitely won’t end well for any ancient Greeks with bottled up emotions. The paradox of euphemisms isn’t just a problem for the ancient Greeks. The way we use euphemisms today has just as contradictory an effect in addressing the truth. We’re accustomed to using euphemisms for just about any taboo or sensitive subject, whether it’s disguising boogers as “gold” or softening Jesus to “jeez.” And while many of these camouflages are in good fun, there’s no denying that we often perceive the substitute to mean something different than its root. In doing so, we dance around the tough truths of the origin while floating contently about the ease of its euphemism, which can become very dangerous depending on the gravity of what we’re concealing. For example, U.S. government officials often use the expression “enhanced interrogation” when they’re really talking

about torture. Just like the ancient Greeks used a euphemism to deny that Erinyes was a spirit of vengeance, it seems as though the U.S. government has adapted their own sugarcoating term for punishment. In a discussion on the $1.1 trillion spending bill to fund a Senate intelligence report investigating CIA interrogation methods, columnist David Brooks highlights that “the best thing about the report is, it cuts through the ocean of euphemism, the EITs, enhanced interrogation techniques, and all that. It gets to straight language. Torture—it’s obviously torture… and the euphemism is designed to dull the moral sensibility.” Here, Brooks touches on the paradox exactly. While euphemisms work in appeasing moral sensitivity, they fail in addressing stark realities. And this phenomenon is dangerous for the very reason that euphemisms are used: An important truth is concealed in such a way that we become disconnected from the original concept while falsely considering its substitute synonymous. In doing so, we contradict the original meaning and submit ourselves to a deception. Linguist Steven Pinker argues this is unsustainable due to what he calls “the euphemism treadmill.” Pinker defines the euphemism treadmill in writing that “concepts, not words, are primary in people’s minds. Give a concept a new name, and the name becomes colored by the concept; the concept does not become freshened by the name, at least not for long.” In other words, the moment the emotionally charged stigma of the origin catches up to the working euphemism, people feel a need to invent a new euphemism and chug along the treadmill of trickery. So long as people continue to avoid the hardship of reality and disguise comfort as newly colored concepts, we will continue to use euphemisms. For now, we have a lot of work to do in acknowledging that the root of our discomfort isn’t so far off from the root of our words themselves. Maybe euphemisms would be less popular in a future where people become more accustomed to addressing the truth head on, despite the soreness of reality. After all, using language as a shield for the uncomfortable will never actually get rid of the uncomfortable, but rather brand it as new before becoming damaged by wear. And we’ll run on that treadmill forever if we don’t realize the danger in doing so.

Ava Rosato is a sophomore in the College majoring in justice & peace studies. She enjoys naps and nature and sometimes even takes naps in nature. Egan barnitt

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THE GEORGETOWN VOICE

Dieuson Octave and Me Dieuson Octave is Kodak Black, a 20-year-old Broward County rapper, two years older than I am. He’s been in and out of jail and the court system since I was a high school freshman. He’s been convicted of sexual assault. A Google search provides as many of his mugshots as his mixtape covers. While I write this, he’s being held in solitary confinement. I’m a white kid from the suburbs. It’s easy to discard Kodak as a rapist, a criminal, but I’m complicit as a listener in the cycles of oppression that entrap him. When he reveals his raw humanity as an artist, I can’t turn away. Kodak’s music explores how his blackness and community affect society’s perception of him by sharing his personal experiences and stories. His explorations are distinctly black in that they are influenced by his identity and are then mutated by interactions with whiteness. In Kodak’s music, whiteness is a discrete mark of an outsider, which makes it strange to discuss as a white man. Kodak has not lived a traditionally “white” life, nor is his art easily understandable through a white lens. By listening to him, I open him up to dissection by a white audience, and contribute to his surveillance by white media; if white kids didn’t listen to Kodak, white media wouldn’t be peering over my shoulders into his life. As Kodak has developed as an artist, he’s become more cognizant that the world is watching him, which he discusses in his music. His interaction with a white world has fundamentally changed his artistry, in ways that aren’t natural. As a listener, I can’t submit to the tired cliché of separating the artist from their art. This alienates the agency and voice of the artist from their work, and it’s evidence of how the listener willfully projects their own values onto the artist. Kodak is Dieuson, his life is his art, and the listener is forced to contend with the experiences that have informed his music. To understand Kodak only through his actions or entirely dismiss him for committing crimes is presumptuous, since it willingly ignores the systems of oppression that influence his behavior, and judges him based on a legal system he didn’t assent to. Kodak’s art is human, and dismissing him entirely misses an opportunity to understand him.

In Pitchfork’s review of his last tape, “Heart Break Kodak,” the writer can’t accept Kodak’s discussion of his upbringing to explain his treatment of women. The writer cites the song “Hate Being Alone” as Kodak’s best, but admittedly tepid, shot at courtship, in large part because he avoids calling his partner a “bitch” for three minutes. The suggestion is that, by avoiding misogynistic language, he’s more conscientious in his depiction of women. But holding Kodak to this kind of normative yardstick avoids the difficulties in grappling with his relationship with women. He is at once tender with, and reliant upon, his partners, but holds them in contempt and calls them “bitches.” However, whether Kodak uses the word “bitch” with all the meaning the writer imbues in it is unclear, because the word has become normalized in a variety of contexts. The song itself is powerful because of its brutal honesty. He hates being alone because he fears the solitude he experienced while incarcerated. His treatment of sexual partners is impossible to divorce from his experiences and the oppression he’s suffered. But, that Pitchfork author was a black woman. So where do I fit into this equation, as a white critic of a black writer, and a white defender of a black artist? Am I naively acting like a savior for someone whose hedonism is thoughtfully criticized? And if I reject this criticism of Kodak, can I criticize him for any action, or does my whiteness disqualify my criticism? I don’t know. Kodak has committed crimes, and we owe it to the victims not to forget. But allowing these crimes to characterize Kodak exclusively plays directly into the cycles of incarceration and legalized morality designed by white legislators for black communities like Kodak’s. While he resists being muzzled via incarceration by releasing music from inside prison, the state has labelled him “criminal.” As listeners, if we blackball Kodak while the state attempts to suppress him, we feed into his oppression. These systems don’t absolve Kodak, but his art is a raw exposé of the humanity of a black man trapped inside them, and to willingly play into his silencing by these systems is gross. Kodak’s music is a frustrating reminder, as a white hip-hop fan, that the artists I celebrate and respect experience oppres-

sion to which I contribute, so it’s tough for me, specifically, to condemn him. In listening to and interpreting his art, I’m subjecting it to a lens for which it wasn’t created, because my life is so different from Kodak’s. In writing this piece, I participate in the white media that watches Kodak, because I write for a magazine at a predominantly white institution, and create an article around an uneven dichotomy. To Kodak I’m no one, but to me, he’s someone to study and write about. However, I’m also uncomfortable supporting an artist nearly synonymous with misogyny, and by giving him a pass I may be tacitly consenting to his partners’ subjugation. These lines of abstraction can be unfair, however, because they remove Kodak’s actions and art from himself. If Kodak has agency anywhere, it’s in his personal relationships. And while he exposes the systems that influence his behavior, he has accepted responsibility for his actions. Kodak Black is Dieuson Octave, and Dieuson Octave is human. Dieuson and I are more than two kids from the suburbs. We’re both human. We’re equally human. But as I write this, Dieuson sits in solitary confinement for making a prohibited call from prison, and I’m listening to his music on my phone in Lau, searching his criminal charges on NBC.

Max Fredell is a freshman in the SFS from Kent, Washington. He plays trumpet in the Georgetown pep band (poorly) and writes music reviews for the Voice. Other than that, he eats Wheat Thins with pre-sliced cheese and plays Mario Kart.

APRIL 13, 2018

One-Two Punch Georgetown Club Boxing Mixes Combat with Camaraderie By Santul Nerkar The scene outside Bulldog Alley on a Tuesday evening is laid-back: Students mingle near Chick-fil-A or Crop Chop, lingering around the tables with open books. Step inside the multipurpose studio, however, and one immediately feels a figurative and literal change in temperature. Students jump rope, juke, and spar to the tune of hip-hop and Latin music, working up a sweat while remaining genial with one another. This is the paradox that is Georgetown Club Boxing: intense, yet easygoing. “We’re both a competitive and a social team,” said Camille Hankel (COL ’18), captain of the team. “On the competitive level, the goal is to win nationals. It always is. On a broader level, the goal is to have an environment where people are welcome, engaged, and excited about boxing.” Analena DeKlotz (COL ’21), treasurer of the club, described her preconceived notions of a boxer completely changing upon joining the organization. “Totally shattered,” DeKlotz said of her previous image of a typical boxer. “There are people from everywhere, every school, every background, every discipline in there.” Since its founding in 2007, Georgetown Club Boxing has grown from a handful of sparrers into an organization that boasts more than 40 members. Of those 40 members, said Hen-

kel, 10 are routine participants in competitive events while an additional 15 to 20 are aspiring competitors. Volunteer John Garry coaches the team, which practices four days a week in addition to conditioning sessions. Georgetown Boxing typically competes in several local events leading up to a national competition run by the United States Intercollegiate Boxing Association (USIBA). Since the NCAA abolished varsity boxing in 1960 following an athlete’s death, student-led clubs have assumed the mantle of the sport. While club boxing has filled the void of a former Division I activity, key differences remain between the team and an ordinary varsity squad. Namely, there are no cuts on Georgetown Boxing. “The club level is somewhat rising to replace the varsity level,” Henkel said. “[But] we are very inclusive: We don’t have tryouts, because most people come in without any boxing experience.” Georgetown Boxing’s wide umbrella belies the team’s competitiveness, as the club recently captured three title belts from the USIBA National Championships in Champaign, Illinois. The event’s format presents a unique physical challenge, as boxers routinely fight in back-to-back matches, as opposed to smaller

tournaments where the fights are more staggered. Furthermore, the national tournament features strict weight classes, whereas normally, tournaments pit fighters against others who match their weight more loosely. Club members describe boxing as altogether satisfying and grueling, as a tight-knit community that works together to make weight and stay in shape. Yet this process can be daunting and even stressful, especially around competition time. “This was more of a struggle right before nationals,” Karleigh Gause (SFS ’20) said. “I had to cut 10 pounds. I had to make sure I was only eating fruits and vegetables, eggs, low-carb, high-protein diet. It’s definitely made me more aware of how I need to regulate my intake of food.” Gause’s first two fights were at nationals. Even as a threesport athlete in high school, nothing could prepare her for the gravity of the moment inside the ring. “I was nervous. I hadn’t experienced that sort of pressure before. I had been in individual sports before, but the individual sports I had done didn’t single you out as much,” Gause said. “Your mind kind of just goes blank.” But Gause remembers her coach’s clear directive from the

THE GEORGETOWN VOICE

h Delaney Corcoran

Georgetown Boxing

sidelines: “Just go for it and let your hands fly.” Besides preparing for nationals, Georgetown Boxing’s other major undertaking each year is hosting the Home Showcase, an event that features a number of teams, including Georgetown, competing on Healy Lawn. While planning the event is taxing, Henkel says, the team and its individual members benefit from advertising themselves in front of the whole school. “It’s a huge ordeal, logistically, to host your own tournament,” Henkel said. “There’s a lot of money involved in renting a ring, hiring officials, a lot of day-of coordination, inviting teams. We host that event in fall, and it’s the sixth or seventh year we’ve done that. It’s great to have it on your home turf where you can have the crowds cheering for you. I had my first-ever win at the Home Showcase in my sophomore year, right on Healy Lawn with my friends cheering me on.” As teammates boost each other’s spirits, friendships form. DeKlotz calls boxing an integral part of her freshman experience, as she quickly found a group of people she could call friends. “It really made a lot of my freshman year,” DeKlotz said. “When you first get to college, you’re obviously looking for a friend group and activities that you want to join and get inter-

ested in. There’s a lot of pressure to join a lot of clubs and find friends really quickly. Even though I had friends on my floor, and in my classes, I hadn’t found a group I clicked with until I joined Boxing.” Her favorite part of the day is going to practice, when she interacts with a supportive community that, together, has the shared experience of strenuous conditioning and the pursuit of a common goal. “There’s no other way, no closer way, to bond with a group of people than to sweat it out,” DeKlotz said. “These people have seen me after two-hour workouts, just disgusting, and nobody’s showered yet, and we all go to Leo’s to eat together. It’s just the best bonding experience you can have.” DeKlotz also points to the hands-on instruction from Garry and the team leaders, who jointly dedicate the first few weeks of the year to introducing the sport to the newcomers. “I was blown away by how much instruction I got from the leaders,” DeKlotz said. “They teach you all the technical terms, just how to intuitively recognize as well as what they’re called.” DeKlotz rattles off a selection, without hesitation: dodge, weave, slip, return. She uses each of those in sparring sessions, where one person holds up pads and calls out combinations for

the other to use. The person with the pads can alternate between offense and defense, causing the other fighter to react instinctively and learn by doing. “For some people, there are some combinations that are just stronger than others,” DeKlotz said. “You learn that by trial and error, like ‘Oh, throw this combination!’ or ‘Oh, that didn’t feel right, but I really feel like I stick that last punch when I do this one!’ You learn more about yourself along the way.” Now a senior, Henkel has had plenty of time to reflect on her journey. As a two-sport athlete, Henkel’s boxing experience has given her a practical way to stay in shape for her other endeavor, Club Tennis. But her takeaways from the activity go far beyond increased endurance. “It’s, it’s given me a community,” Henkel said. “These are people I spend more time with than my house-mates. On a personal level, it really gives me a purpose. It gives an ebb-and-flow to my semester and my life, and there’s an awesome excitement that comes with that.” Between the ropes, Georgetown Boxing has pulled no punches. But outside the ring, its fighters are more than just sparring partners to each other: They are confidants. DeKlotz cannot fathom the journey ending anytime soon. “I think I’ll stay here for a long time,” she said, with a smile.

April 13, 2018 APRIL

How Nationals Park Transformed the Riverfront By Graham Piro The Capitol Riverfront, the neighborhood encompassing the Washington Navy Yard, the Yards Park, and the riverfront area that stretches to the edge of Southwest D.C., sits along the Anacostia River. The neighborhood is bound on the west by Interstate 395. To the east lies Interstate 695, the construction of which cut off much of the neighborhood from the rest of D.C. during the 20th century. But now, the neighborhood is changing to become a hotspot for young professionals, thanks to a sports team. When the Nationals moved to Nationals Park in 2008, they brought more than just baseball. “Nationals Park is an image of modern baseball: sleek, clean, class, and shining steel. Its main material is pale limestone, not marble to be sure, but it’s the closest alabaster look-alike,” Thomas Boswell wrote in a column in The Washington Post, discussing the 2018 All-Star Game, which will be hosted in Nationals Park. “For a new team in Washington after a 33-year hiatus, for new modern generations of fans, this is truly a contemporary fresh-start home park.” The park has brought large crowds and grow-

ing businesses to the previously low-income neighborhood known as the Capitol Riverfront. °°° In the early 20th century, the Navy Yard served as one of the largest manufacturers of naval ordinance in the United States, supplying the armed forces with both ships and munitions. Despite the location’s placement on the National Register of Historic Places in 1973, it became a forgotten piece of D.C.’s history, and the area around it was allowed to fall into decline. In 1998, the area directly around the Navy Yard was designated a “Superfund” site by the Environmental Protection Agency, a label given to the most polluted sites in the country. “It was a low-income community which also included one of the two largest open-air drug markets in the city,” said Georgetown University professor Uwe Brandes, who formerly worked under D.C. Mayor Anthony Williams, and was responsible for coordinating investment, urban planning, and design of

the neighborhood around the Capitol Riverfront. “It’s hard to imagine today,” he said. “It was a community that was often in the news because of violence. That’s the backdrop for how the neighborhood has changed.” However, the turn of the century brought about a drastic change for the Riverfront, sparked by the Capitol Riverfront BID (Business Improvement District), which was the result of a combination of public and private investment in the neighborhood that formed under one banner. “BIDs are funded by a property tax that all property owners pay,” explained Bonnie Wright, the marketing and communications director for the Capitol Riverfront BID, and a resident of the neighborhood. The organization is made up of a board of 21 investors who own different buildings and land in the neighborhood. Much of the economic growth came from the construction of Nationals Park. “If it weren’t for the Nats, this neighborhood wouldn’t exist,” said Elizabeth Bogie, a six-year resident of the neighborhood. With a total capacity of 41,313, Nationals Park opened in 2008 but initially struggled to stimulate busi-

THE GEORGETOWN VOICE

ness. Business development hit a rocky point after the 2008 financial crisis, which hit the area hard as many investors found themselves struggling to justify keeping their investments in the neighborhood. “The investors had to pull out and they lost everything,” Wright said. “That really did halt development around the ballpark.” °°° Spencer Griffin, the manager of The Big Stick, a bar located right near the stadium, takes a breath as he fixes another drink for a customer. It’s a Saturday afternoon, and things are calm in the bar. But there’s a buzz of excitement as the new baseball season gets underway. “There is a pretty solid group of regulars we get here,” Griffin said. “It gets crowded on weeknights.” Griffin works behind the bar when things are calmer during the day, but he says that when the bar gets really crowded, staff have to step outside and walk on the sidewalk from the exit to the entrance to get to the other side of the bar. Today, the neighborhood is bustling with businesses like The Big Stick. “I feel like the neighborhood is growing its own culture now,” said Hilary Johnson, a three-year resident of the neighborhood. She pointed to regular programming nights that Capitol Riverfront BID puts on during the summer to promote the neighborhood. “There are movies, live music in Yards Park, a farmer’s market in the summer,” she said. “It’s a very active neighborhood where people are out and about.” Part of what makes Nationals Park appealing to local D.C. residents is that it feels like a distinctly D.C. place. “They’ve incorporated a lot of D.C. lifestyle into the stadium,” Bogie said. One of the most prominent Washington staples in the park is the presence of a Ben’s Chili Bowl, a restaurant with a rich history in D.C. For Jed Sawyer, a three-year resident of Crystal City, Maryland, stumbling across the Navy Yard came as something of a happy accident and was largely a result of the Nationals. Enjoying a bratwurst at The Big Stick, he said that he takes friends and family to Bluejacket, a larger brewery closer to the waterfront. But when he wants a more intimate experience, he goes to The Big Stick. Originally from Seattle, Sawyer hadn’t felt a particularly strong allegiance to the Mariners growing up. When he moved to Maryland, he became a Nationals fan by association. “Ev-

eryone here is a Nats fan, even if they like other teams,” he said. Griffin echoed this sentiment. “On game day, everyone’s wearing red. Except if it’s the Mets, there are a ton of Mets fans who come down from New York to see them play,” he said. “There’s a fun rivalry there. I think that Nats fans are very receptive to other teams. We have a lot of those types of fun rivalries.” He continued to say that because the Nationals don’t have as old a fanbase as teams like the Boston Red Sox or the New York Yankees, fans do not feel a particular animosity toward another specific team. That doesn’t mean that they aren’t passionate, though. The Big Stick isn’t the only bar that has grown quickly since the stadium was built. Griffin said that there really isn’t a rivalry between the different bars; they all attract a different scene. But a stop at Bluejacket reveals what may be the social juggernaut of the neighborhood. The expansive interior of the brewery easily dwarfs both Justin’s and The Big Stick. When the restaurant hits its peak times, it’s difficult to get into the bar to get a drink. The bartenders take the time to chat with customers when they aren’t inundated with orders, but they aren’t able to provide the same personal touch when traffic increases. Wright said that current estimates suggest that the new neighborhood will generate three-and-a-half times as much money as the neighborhood did before the Capitol BID was created. “Technically we will have 32,000 residents, over 60,000 employees, over 3 million visitors in this live, work, play environment,” Wright said. “It’s been really interesting to see this neighborhood really take off over the past two or three years.”

“If it weren’t for the Nats, this neighborhood wouldn’t exist.”

Before Nationals Park, the neighborhood was home to public housing. Brandes said that this was a major concern when redeveloping the neighborhood, as the residents of the housing projects were going to need a place to live during and after construction. “While the old public housing barracks were torn down, the location of the public housing units on this land was retained and preserved,” he explained. “The people who were living in the old public housing units were given the opportunity to move into the public units in the new buildings that the old buildings were replaced with at the same level of public subsidy.” It remains unclear how many former residents have been able to return to the neighborhood. The Washington Post reported that the new apartments constructed in the Navy Yard include some affordable units. Four apartment buildings include apartments devoted to low and mixed-income housing residents. The Bixby, a mixed-income housing development near Navy Yard, replaced the Arthur Capper/Carrollsburg public housing development, which was originally built in 1958 and has housed low-income seniors since 1981. In 2007, the development closed for demolition. The Bixby devoted 39 affordable units for former Capper/Carrollsburg residents, Washington City Paper reported. The new mixed-housing came with a new requirement and met criticism. “There are some people who have been critical of the public housing redevelopment because some of the public housing residents chose not to return to the neighborhood,” Brandes said. “Part of that dynamic was related to the federal housing requirements where people living in the neighborhood had to demonstrate that they were no longer drug-dependent and were looking for employment.” Only residents who met those requirements were able to move back into their neighborhood. “It was a larger comprehensive public strategy to create a new neighborhood,” Brandes said. “The downtown existed but was widely understood for being underperforming. The Capitol Riverfront didn’t exist as a neighborhood. It was extensive tracks of vacant land that were in public ownership.” Baseball’s impact on the Navy Yard has been swift and dramatic, but equally uncertain. It is clear that economic development has allowed the Capitol Riverfront to rapidly develop a new and attractive identity. However, concerns about affordable housing for low-income residents remain. Illustrations: Egan Barnitt AND Margaux Fontaine

April 13, 2018

Dean Deacon on Diversity of Class of 2022

By Damian Garcia

The students who opened their Georgetown acceptance letters last week are part of the most diverse group the university has admitted to date. According to Charles Deacon (COL ’64), dean of undergraduate admissions, the prospective class of 2022 had the highest number of minority applicants and admitted students, paired with the lowest total acceptance rate, in the school’s history. “The university is in a much different place today compared to 20, 30, or 40 years ago,” Deacon said, referring to an increasingly diverse student body. Out of a record-high 22,897 applicants, the university accepted 14.5 percent, compared to last year’s rate of 15.4 percent. Deacon said that compared to previous years, this applicant pool was more diverse. For example, applications from black students increased by 30 percent from 2013 to 2018. He also emphasized the increase in the number of multiracial students admitted to the university as another example of this larger trend. However, Deacon said this increase brings a new set of challenges. He noted that the university needs to improve how it counts multiracial students in order to properly report the makeup of the student body. As Deacon explained, the current census groups many different numbers for multiracial applicants under one group labeled “Hispanic.” “The numbers become a hard thing to deal with,” Deacon said, when referring to the challenge of keeping records of people who are multiracial. Georgetown’s proportions of admitted minority students are still close to national numbers, and Deacon highlighted the growing trend in applicants who are minorities. He said he is confident that the rising diversity of applicants will continue to increase the ethnic and cultural mix of students on campus in the next five years. Despite these demographic changes, Georgetown still struggles in some ways to attract a diverse applicant pool, Deacon said.

“As a Catholic university, we might have more Hispanic and white [applicants], but much fewer black and foreign national [applicants],” Deacon said. Generally, the proportion of African-Americans and foreign nationals who are Catholic is lower than that of white and Hispanic people. A new SAT exam format in 2016 has resulted in higher average scores across the country, and more students therefore wish to apply to more competitive schools. Deacon said that for the admissions department, this means that there must be a greater focus on holistically viewing each person’s application than previous years, with less weight placed on exam scores. Georgetown’s application also includes minor changes this year. Applicants can now select “other” for their gender identity, rather than choosing between male and female. Additionally, applicants are no longer required to provide their Social Security number, which Deacon said was in response to increased scrutiny on DACA recipients and undocumented university students. However, even with the increased diversity at Georgetown, some believe there is still work to be done. Emily Kaye (COL ’18), student board president of the Georgetown Scholarship Program (GSP), a scholarship and mentoring program for low-income students since 2004, said that the comfort of minority students at Georgetown is still an important consideration. “As long as the university remains a predominantly white and wealthy institution, low-income students and/or students of color will face issues of feeling that they belong on campus,” Kaye wrote in an email to the Voice. “I hope that while the University maintains its commitment to bringing diverse students to Georgetown, it increases the resources necessary to get those students through Georgetown as well.” Kaye noted that increasing these resources for groups such as GSP and the Community Scholars Program, which

Acceptance Rate of Black Students

15.4% 2017

12%

2017

16% 2018

Acceptance Rate

14.5% 2018

serve select first-generation and low-income college students, is also crucial. “GSP currently has fewer than 1,000 square feet of space to support over 650 students,” she wrote. “Sometimes when I have gone to see our wellness advisor about private issues there have been no closed-door offices available to speak in.” Deacon said that in order to reach out to minority students around the country, Georgetown is participating with Harvard University, Stanford University, Duke University, and the University of Pennsylvania in an outreach program called “Exploring College Options.” The outreach initiative is composed of 140 different programs, which will host events in major cities in all 50 states to reach out to prospective students. Deacon noted that reaching out to different national groups, such as the Cristo Rey Jesuit network and the Knowledge Is Power Program (KIPP), networks of free college-preparatory schools in under-resourced communities, is also key. “We are trying to reach groups that are national, and we try to network to places that we think are reaching further out and bringing talented people in, aiming them towards the competitive colleges and universities,” he said. Christian Sese, the director of Hoya Saxa Weekend, a program that hosts accepted students of color on campus, said that prospective students are curious about what life is like on a traditionally white campus. “They want to feel safe but also celebrated,” he wrote in an email to the Voice. “Our goal is to provide a small glimpse into the vibrant but challenging multicultural experience on the Hilltop.” With trends showing the nation’s population continues to diversify, Georgetown is working to reflect these changes. Deacon believes that Georgetown is becoming more representative of the ethnic and cultural makeup of the country and will continue to do so for years to come.

Hispanic Applicants

2465

2016

2868

2018

THE GEORGETOWN VOICE

LEISURE

A Quiet Place is a Parent’s Worst Nightmare

IMBD

By Brynne Long

A Quiet Place begins in the middle of a story: Without speaking, a mother and her children search a disordered, abandoned store. As the older daughter walks around the space, her younger brother wanders from sight. The camera cuts suddenly away from the girl’s silent, gentle gaze to her younger brother’s shoes, his heels lifting off a small stool to reach for a high-up toy. When he accidentally knocks it off, the girl darts into the frame, catching it to prevent a noisy crash. Their father breathes a sigh of relief. This opening scene reflects the ways John Krasinski, who plays the father, Lee, and who directs the film, is forced to be resourceful throughout A Quiet Place. His story focuses on a family that must be silent in order to survive monsters that hunt by following noises, and thus dialogue is mostly unavailable. Krasinski turns instead to props, sign language, and, ironically, sound, in order to establish the circumstances of the film. These elements emphasize a well-developed theme of parenthood, rather than focus on the monsters that hunt the family. This makes A Quiet Place scarier because the hunted family earns our sympathy. Krasinski heightens and relaxes tension throughout A Quiet Place, keeping viewers on the lookout for the next scare. His tight frames selectively include details and characters, maintaining uncertainty about the presence of threat. The monsters are visually unsavory, with lanky extremities and retractable armor over their heads. They’re blind, however, and have fleshy, pink ear drums that listen for prey. In many tense scenes, the family members must hide from their predators with bated breath and restrain themselves from making any vocal expression of the sheer terror the monsters inspire. There is little music and almost no speaking, but sound still alters the level of tension and establishes details. The

family makes little intentional noise, but their gentle steps and other slight movements are still perceptible. Sanded pathways, leaf plates at mealtimes, and ever-careful movements all enable their near-total silence and the believability of their survival. During the opening scene, a complete silence when the camera focuses on the family’s daughter, Reagan (Millicent Simmonds), or shoots from her perspective reveals that the character is deaf. When the camera switches focus, ambient noise returns. When accidents happen, like when middle son Marcus (Noah Jope) knocks over a lantern while playing a game, everyone freezes and all sound stops as the audience wonders along with the characters whether the monsters heard it too. After the mother, Evelyn (Emily Blunt), gives birth to a son, Lee fits him with a small oxygen mask before settling the baby into a wooden box fashioned into a crib with padding and blankets. After securing the soundproof lid, Evelyn asks Lee, “Who are we if we can’t protect them?” Moments like this poignantly establish the parents’ drive to protect their children, even at their own peril. One can rightly assume a strong on-screen chemistry between Krasinski and Blunt, who are married in real life. There is a genuine affection that all the actors share for one another and express through their stellar performances. According to behind-the-scenes footage and interviews with the cast, the fictional family grew close during filming. Simmonds, who portrays their daughter and is deaf herself, speaks using American Sign Language, which the other actors learned in order to be better able to communicate with her. The connections that the actors shared, coupled with their commitment to portraying a family with a deaf child as realistically as possible, add a

layer of sincerity to already emotional moments between parent and child or brother and sister. Beyond the communal on-screen chemistry, each actor impressively becomes his or her character. Krasinski is devastating as a father desperate to protect his family, and demands a deeply empathetic response. Blunt, too, whose character displays remarkable stamina and bravery, gives a stellar performance, highlighted by the wrenchingly silent birth of the couple’s new baby boy. Jope portrays Marcus’ youthful innocence well, but is also able to subtly dampen it with the weight of ceaseless terror. However, it is Simmonds who is the true star of the film. Her facial expressions light up each scene, and, with the skills of a lifelong actor, she works her character from a confident, charming older sister to a burdened and lonely young woman. Possible critiques against this film will inevitably revolve around “would’ve, could’ve, should’ve” complaints. As is typical with horror films, characters don’t always act in what some viewers would consider to be a logical way. Luckily, it is obvious from the attention to detail throughout the film that Krasinski planned ahead for such frustrations. He makes it clear: The family does not want to fight the monsters. Lee and Evelyn are parents above all, and they try their best to maintain elements of normalcy, from reviewing long division with Marcus, to slow dancing to music played through headphones. There may still be those who are distracted from the strength of the film because they are convinced that, if in the same situation, they could do things better. Barring these judgements, as they ought be barred, A Quiet Place is a well thought-out and visually-developed film, not to mention a thrilling, emotional ride.

APRIL 13, 2018

She Kills Monsters is Bursting with Friendship, Foes, and Fantasy Blood. Humor. Geeks. Nomadic Theatre’s spring production, Qui Nguyen’s She Kills Monsters, is a comedic, action-packed, and down-to-earth narrative that is easy to enjoy. A heartfelt story about the fraught adolescence of a young girl, She Kills Monsters promotes self-love in a society of pressure and prejudice with a blend of witty dialogue and dynamic visual effects, with no prior knowledge of the iconic fantasy role-playing game Dungeons and Dragons required. Set in Ohio in the 1990s, the story begins with Agnes Evans, portrayed by MaryLouise Sparrow (SFS ’19), a self-described ordinary girl whose life changes when a tragic accident kills her parents and younger sister, Tilly, played by Amelia Walsh (SFS ’20). While looking through her sister’s old belongings, Agnes discovers Tilly’s realm of dragon-slayers, elves, and demons. Realizing that she never took the opportunity to connect with her sister, Agnes decides to get to know Tilly by playing Dungeons and Dragons. She brings Tilly’s notebook to Chuck, a nerdy high school student who works at a gaming store. After recognizing a map for an original D&D game within the pages of Tilly’s journal, Chuck becomes Agnes’ Dungeon Master and guide through the journey into Tilly’s imagination. With no experience navigating her sister’s geeky world, Average Agnes becomes Agnes the Asshatted and learns to fight with the help of her party: Orcus the Horn-y Demon, Kaliope the Dark Elf, Lilith the Demon Queen, and finally her sister’s avatar, Tillius the Paladin, a magical hero sworn to uphold righteousness and justice. These caricatures would not have been complete without stellar costumes designed by Bailey Premeaux (COL ’19) and makeup done by Vanessa Chapoy (COL ’18), not to mention the clever delivery of many sexual innuendos. As grunge rock music amplifies the edgy tone, the party seeks to recover Tillius’ lost soul and embark on a dangerous quest to fight the monsters that guard it. Throughout her time inside Tilly’s creation, Agnes learns more about her younger sister’s once-private world. Her friends Ronnie, Kelly, and Lily reimagine themselves as Orcus, Kaliope, and Lilith, who are much stronger than they could ever be. The game also serves as an outlet for Tilly’s suppressed feelings: Her romantic interest in Lily reflects Tillius’ relationship with her girlfriend, Lilith, and her distaste for Agnes’ boyfriend Miles inspires the gelatinous Miles monster. Finally, the cheerleaders who bullied Tilly for her sexuality become the succubi, heartless demon girls who suck on the blood and insecurities of others and tear out flesh for fun. The cast features Georgetown theater newcomers in central roles.

Joong Won Pyo

Ciara Hockey (COL ’19), who plays Lily/Lilith, and Walsh, who plays Tilly/ Tillius, both explained that despite prior experience in high school, this was their first time performing on the Hilltop. Experience aside, their bold auras commanded the stage. “I connected a lot with my character,” Hockey said. “We both struggled with queer identities in high school and had to try and figure out how to navigate that within the constraints of a heteronormative society.” By taking on the role of people similar to themselves, the cast invested energy into the meaning of self-expression and explored their characters with an intimate, natural flare. “I’d say this was the most personal role I’ve ever played. I’ve been murderers and priests and soldiers but it was truly liberating and an absolute joy just to play a nerd like myself,” said Jonathan Kay (COL ’21), who portrays Chuck. One unique aspect of the show is the fight choreography, which expands the boundaries of theatrical performance. Live action and visual effects work in tandem, incorporating physical weapons such as swords and fantastical elements like Tilly’s magic missile. While action scenes and special effects establish a sense of awe, the show manages to connect with the audience through the nostalgia of youthful imagination and the power of creativity. Finding Tilly’s friends and playing make-believe, Agnes reaches back to a part of herself that she neglected in the adult world. Director Zackary Rettig (SFS ’19) drew upon his personal experience playing D&D with family friends in the summer between second and third grade. “My first D&D character was a thief named Shakes, named after my father’s Ultima Online character,” Rettig said. “It was not long before I was being swallowed alive by a giant frog while the rest of the party desperately beat the amphibian beast through choking laughter. It was awesome.” In a campus facilitating dialogue on diversity and inclusion, this production explores the intersectionality of identities and how it affects the way one perceives and interacts with others. For example, Agnes is initially surprised upon an encounter with Kaliope, Kelly’s in-game avatar. Kaliope is masterful at combat, whereas in real life, Kelly uses a wheelchair. Because of Tilly’s timid and tomboyish nature, her identity was also reduced and unrecognized by restrictive societal norms. Not only was she bullied by cheerleaders for being a lesbian, but even her sister Agnes assumed that Tilly would grow out of this geeky stage and talk about “normal” things like boys, TV shows, makeup, and clothes. “At the end of the day, She Kills Monsters is all about reaching out and accepting those of us that don’t fit the mainstream mold of society,” producer Morgan Doyle (COL ’19) said. “We picked this show because we thought that this narrative was so important for a Georgetown audience to see.” Everyone has their own battles to fight, and She Kills Monsters encourages the audience to fight them with valor, passion, and resilience. Instead of running away from problems, Tilly chose to face them in her fantasy world, where she could freely be herself. “One of the most enduring messages that this show has taught me is: To heck with it, do what you love,” Rettig wrote in a press release to the Voice. “Being comfortable in yourself and being surrounded by those who love and support you is (poetically) better than any sword or shield could ever provide.”

By Suna Cha

THE GEORGETOWN VOICE

Two Trains Running Meanders to a Comfort Food Finish at Arena Stage While the play’s takes on gender are not quite as progressive as its conversations on race, and its attempts to capture Pittsburgh’s grit through large doses of explicit language can be more distracting than powerful, Two Trains Running still manages to be endearing. Byrd’s goofy performance as Sterling rightfully wins a few laughs, and the play is ultimately more soulful than saccharine, balancing the blues with gleeful humor. Arena Stage’s rendition of Two Trains Running is not quite a mustsee, but Wilson’s story is a must-tell, even while overshadowed by his better works. The themes are unfortunately relevant, as its commentary on police profiling and gun violence reminds us, and are especially urgent in D.C. where gentrification continually transforms the racial makeup of the city. At its brightest moments, Two Trains Running explores the complexity of change. It reminds us that the path towards justice isn’t linear, and sometimes even those who demand progress just want to slow down, sink into a red linoleum booth, and scarf down short ribs at their neighborhood diner. And in hard times, that little bit of comfort can be exactly what we need.

By Anne Paglia

Delaney Corcoran

The agitation that shook the 1960s doesn’t rattle Memphis Lee’s diner, or any on-stage portion of Two Trains Running, yet there’s a sense that change is approaching at breakneck speed. Set in Pittsburgh’s Hill District in 1969, August Wilson’s play is more interested in the everyday lives of African-Americans than in the predominant stories of the civil rights movement. But while Two Trains Running is situated in the quotidian, it is still deeply concerned with the political sphere. The seventh play in Wilson’s Pittsburgh Cycle, a series of 10 works encompassing every decade of the 20th century, Two Trains Running is a microscopic look into the ’60s, and its current run on Arena Stage remembers how the routines and lives of the period changed at the hands of time. At the Mead Center for American Theater’s Arena Stage, the cast members collide under the direction of Juliette Carrillo. A weathered diner owner, Memphis Lee (Eugene Lee), tries in vain to run a tight ship in spite of possible government seizure of the property, but his defiant, one-woman kitchen staff, Risa (Nicole Lewis), persistently resists work. Lines are blurred between servers and customers at the diner, and Lee and Risa interact with their regulars—an ex-con named Sterling (Carlton Byrd), a snappy townie named Holloway (David Emerson Toney), and the suave numbers runner, Wolf (Reginald André Jackson)—with such sass that Lee’s diner feels more like an inharmonious family kitchen than a legitimate business. There’s no doubt the characters have chemistry, but their banter is relentless. Discursive dialogue often derails the play’s flow, demanding intent concentration from first-time viewers, and the cast doesn’t pull off transitions between humorous and serious moments until the second act. Although the play’s attempt to incorporate weighty themes is admirable, Two Trains Running often feels pulled in several directions. Lee lacks subtlety when preaching Memphis’ backstory to diners, and it’s unlikely that deliveries will be perfected in the show’s month-long run. Toney’s exuberant portrayal of Holloway, though, while not immune to clunkiness, invites the audience back in for a laugh after moments of confusion. Two Trains Running gets all its horsepower from setting, not unlike the other plays in Wilson’s Pittsburgh Cycle, but it calls for real action in place of diner-booth retellings of off-stage deaths and debacles. That said, there’s a magnetism surrounding the whole affair that captures the decade’s pulse. Every character copes with injustice in his or her own way, whether it be through realism, like Lee who is unexpectant of miracles, or idealism, like Sterling who depends too much on luck and empty words. Not all the characters, however, are fully-formed. Risa, the play’s only female role, never blossoms. People whisper behind her back in Act I, alluding to a shadowy past, but her biggest conflict turns out to be a lifetime of objectification by men. In spite of her insistence on being single, her independence is undone by the play’s lovably corny conclusion. Hambone (Frank Riley III), on the other hand, is the most intriguing character despite having the least to say. Every morning Hambone stands outside a white butcher’s door, awaiting the ham he was promised for painting the butcher’s fence a decade earlier. Although often taken for foolishness, Hambone’s demands contain a greater message of resilience for the rest of the community.

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