FIVE YEARS LATER, I QUESTION THE 675 HOURS I SPENT PLAYING “ANIMAL CROSSING: NEW HORIZONS”
By Aaron Pollock
PARANOIA OR PROTECTION? HOYA PARANOIA, JOHN THOMPSON, AND BLACK AMERICA’S TEAM
By Sydney Carroll
4 voices
Two sisters, two different college experiences, one ward apart
IMANI LIBURD
6 news
Fighting for visibility and community, GU Pride works to reopen an LGBTQ+ LLC
ELAINE CLARKE
7
features 55 years ago, Georgetown’s Black House began as hub for community and inclusivity
ALESSIA TURNER
8 features Paranoia or protection? Hoya Paranoia, John Thompson, and Black America’s team
SYDNEY CARROLL
halftime leisure
Five years later, I question the 675 hours I spent playing “Animal Crossing: New Horizons”
AARON POLLOCK
11
voices Is writing in library books such a bad thing?
EILEEN MILLER
“There is no recourse for my cruelty. Every conversation with a villager in Animal Crossing is scripted. So, even if I told my villagers the truth, that I am never coming back and they live in a Truman Show-like existence for my own entertainment, they could not possibly understand their existence and my unforgivable actions.”
12 sports
Cooley building for the future with successful second year
BEN JAKABCSIN
13 sports
Despite Ransom’s heroics, Hoyas fall short of expectations
BEN JAKABCSIN
14 leisure
Vibrant community and the hardships of immigrant life In the Heights
RHEA BANERJEE
15 halftime sports
The Washington Spirit look poised for a championship run
ANDREW SWANK
Editor-in-Chief — Connor Martin
Managing Editor — Eddy Binford-Ross
internal resources:
Exec. Editor for Resources, Diversity, and Inclusion — Ajani Jones
Asst. Editor for Resources, Diversity, and Inclusion — Imani Liburd
Editor for Sexual Violence Advocacy, Prevention, and Coverage — Franziska Wild Social Chairs — Apara Chandavarkar, Samantha Monteiro
Service Chair — Katherine Wilkison Archivist — Elle Marinello
news:
Executive Editor — Samantha Monteiro
Features Editor — Sydney Carroll
Asst. Features Editor — Chih-Rong Kuo News Editor — Katie Doran
Asst. News Editors — Sophie St. Amand, Aubrey Butterfield, Katherine Wilkison
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Fifty-five (copy tells me 56) years since our founding, many things about the Voice have changed, but not what is important: our mission to inform and uplift our readers, and to never defer to those in power. On Saturday, April 5, I invite you to celebrate that mission with us. More information, including tickets, can be found at
Two sisters, two different colleges experiences, one ward apart
BY IMANI LIBURD
DESIGN BY MICHELLE WANG
Growing up, my sister and I were two peas in a pod. We did everything together and were almost inseparable. As Black people in a predominantly white town, she was the person I could go to for support. She understood me because we had similar experiences, like having to code-switch and feeling like the odd one out. As we got older, however, our paths split. My sister chose to go to Howard University, a historically Black university (HBCU), while I chose to go to Georgetown.
At the time, I was worried that we would be completely disconnected from each other. I thought that since she stopped trying to fit in and make white people comfortable, while I didn’t, we would no longer understand each other. I believed our diverging experiences of Blackness would make us unable to open up to each other. I was wrong.
“Personally, at school, I feel like I’m way more open about who I am as an individual than I was in high school,” Hadeia Liburd, my sister who is now a senior at Howard, said. “I act very different when I’m here at school, and the [way] people know me here at school is very different from how you know me, because of the perception I’m putting out.”
In our hometown, my sister was reserved. She didn’t talk much in class and others expected her to act this way. In high school, she once defended herself against a white guy who was bothering her, for which she got in trouble. Her teacher was “surprised” by how she acted. After that moment, she continued to be the quiet student. Last year, I had the opportunity to sit in on a couple of my sister’s classes at Howard. She was more vibrant and happy. She wasn’t scared to answer the questions that no one else knew the answer to and was comfortable expressing her thoughts.
My experience at Georgetown, a predominantly white institution (PWI), not only differs from my sister’s experience but is further challenged because of my size. Being a plus-size Black woman at Georgetown forces me to constantly deal with racist or fatphobic comments in an environment where very few people would understand what it’s like to deal with hateful and exclusionary experiences.
“If you’re at a PWI, you’re already the minority because you’re Black. So now you’re Black and gay, or you’re Black and plus-size, or you’re Black and you have a disability. Now you’re just in a smaller minority group than you already were,” Kaniyah Purcell, a senior at Howard University said. “And I feel like that can give you a sense of loneliness, or [make] you feel like you’re always out of place because you can’t find your circle, versus at an HBCU, we’re all Black, so you’re not in that minority circle anymore.”
I could tell my sister felt comfortable at Howard, but what she really fell in love with was the city. It was a place where finding spaces catered to her Afro-Caribbean heritage was no longer as great of a struggle. Caribbean restaurants were less than a ten-minute walk from Howard’s campus, and Black hair salons were easy to find. At Georgetown, my experience has been the complete opposite: the neighborhood is filled with places that cater primarily to its wealthy and white community members, from the cuisine to the salons. All of this has made me feel out of place.
“I feel like not having those things accessible to Black Georgetown students would continue the othering that could be happening there, they aren’t able to get any sense of community or culture where they’re from, because there’s nowhere around for them to experience that,” Hadeia said.
Some Black Howard students enter college never knowing what it’s like to be surrounded by Black people and Black culture all the time. My sister and I were lucky enough to have been part of the Boys & Girls Club in our hometown, where we could engage with our culture and people who looked like us. Students who didn’t have this have since found their experience at Howard to be very affirming.
“My experience has been very eyeopening. In high school I went to a majority white place. I never really had as
many Black people around me as I do now. And it’s been very validating for myself, being more comfortable being Black,” Kaylee McKinney, a senior at Howard University, said.
“This place, this area, is where you’re going to find very intelligent Black people in one spot, especially with creativity,” Justin Gholston, a Howard senior, added.
At Georgetown, only two of my professors have been Black, and, being a Government and Psychology doublemajor, I don’t expect this number to increase. Georgetown’s percentage of Black faculty members is only about
Purcell said. “I feel like here at Howard, the faculty is Black, or they are minorities, versus going to a PWI where most of the faculty in engineering will probably be white men. Now it’s like, how do I build a connection with you? How do I explain to you what I’m going through and have you understand it?”
I recognize that being a student at Georgetown has given me some privileges. Howard students have to deal with other people’s false and negative associations with their university, which is not an issue for me with Georgetown. However, it was my ignorant assumption that Howard students would want their college experience to be different. I thought that everything negative my sister experienced meant that she regretted her choice.
I have never taken the time to
white students [at Georgetown] and Black students at Howard because they don’t put in the effort to come to Howard and get to know us. There are plenty of times when Howard students are on Georgetown’s campus, but I feel like I never see Georgetown students on Howard’s campus unless they’re going to U Street, and then it’s like, you’re just passing through, you’re not stopping to see what we’re about,” Purcell said.
On campus, I don’t often hear Howard discussed by people relative to other D.C. universities, but when it is, some comments made are hard to forget. I have overheard people saying they are scared to go to Howard’s campus because of crime. These comments only further push the idea that people should be scared of Black communities.
students believe that it may be time to start investing in our own community rather than supporting companies that bend to political pressure.
“I don’t think they deserve my dollar. And I think we are starting to see the ramifications of this, because there’s a lot of Black people that are starting to be more confined and are starting to spread their money into more Black-owned businesses and more businesses that actually care about them,” Gholston said.
This city is divided, and while some students don’t have to deal with these negative perceptions, others don’t have that luxury.
Despite this perception, crime is as much of a problem on Georgetown’s campus. Nearly every week in February this year, there was a crime reported on Georgetown’s
“I would say Georgetown students feeling like they can’t come on Howard’s campus for crime is a cop out, because living in D.C., there’s crime everywhere. You could get robbed in Dupont, you can get robbed at the Washington
In addition to being perceived as a more dangerous campus by some, President Trump’s executive order to cut diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) programs has made some Howard students worry about their future after graduating.
“It definitely causes a lot of us to feel unsafe and wonder if we’re going to be a target because we attend Howard University and because we attend a HBCU, whether we’re going to be targeted to not work for a company or be denied from our grad schools because of our Blackness,”
Though I have worried about how the DEI cuts would affect me in the future, as a Georgetown student, it has never been a concern that my university would be viewed negatively because of the racial makeup of the campus. Seeing my sister stress about this has caused anxiety for me and
With companies continuing to rollback their DEI initiatives, Howard
“I feel like white people try to just shield themselves from not seeing what’s going on with Black people or minorities,” McKinney said. “But then it’s like, how can you say that you want to build those connections, or you want to have Black friends and do Black things, but you don’t want to have Black people problems. I never understood that.”
However, moving forward as one may be something that is easier said than done.
“I think it’s important for us to be on a basic level understanding that we are all humans who deserve respect and deserve the same rights as the next individual. And until that happens, I don’t really see us moving all the way forward or really coming to a place where it’s true unity. I feel like it would take some time. It would take some dismantling of a lot of systems, and also not putting people on pedestals that perpetuate and say harmful rhetoric,” Hadeia said.
Talking with Howard students opened my eyes to the experiences and issues of young people that one doesn’t hear about at Georgetown. These student voices don’t tend to be uplifted by other communities, but it’s time that we start paying attention to their needs and allow them to speak for themselves and their own experiences.
After talking to my sister and hearing her concerns, I realized that a lot of the issues she had were because she was Black in the U.S. I initially worried that our experiences would be too different; however, sharing the same background has made it clear that my sister and I will forever be connected. Regardless of the universities we graduate from, our bond will never be broken. Although I may not ever fully understand what she has to go through, I will always be there to listen. G
Imani’s note: This piece was informed by interviews with Hadeia Liburd, Kaniyah Purcell, Justin Gholston, Kaylee McKinney, and Gideon Boadu. A special thank you to my sister, I love you.
Fighting for visibility and community, GU Pride works to reopen an LGBTQ+ LLC
BY ELAINE CLARKE
GRAPHICS BY SOPHINA BOYCHENKO AND ELLE MARINELLO; LAYOUT BY
LUCY MONTALTI
For Paloma Gomez (CAS ’28), finding queer community at Georgetown has not been easy.
“I have found it very difficult to find a lot of other LGBTQ individuals,” Gomez said. “In terms of actually connecting with them and actually being able to make those friendships and relationships, it’s very difficult. It very much feels like this is a very straight campus, when in reality it’s probably not completely the case.”
Gomez isn’t the only student who wishes that Georgetown had a more visible queer community. With this in mind, students at GU Pride are hoping to bring back Georgetown’s Living Learning Community (LLC) for LGBTQ+ students and allies. In the last month, GU Pride has been working to gauge student interest in the initiative.
LLCs are residential communities where students of shared identities or interests live together and participate in social, educational, and reflective activities. Georgetown has not had an LGBTQ+ LLC since the former community, Crossroads, closed four years ago.
Students like Gomez, who is nonbinary, say that having an LGBTQ+ LLC would help support Georgetown’s queer community.
“I wish there was just more visibility, and even just having a queer LLC is like, ‘No, there are queer people on campus here,’” Gomez said.
In 2016, then-executive policy chair of the GUSA LGBTQ+ Inclusion team Grace Smith (CAS ’18) spearheaded the effort to create Crossroads. When the team first submitted the proposal, the Georgetown administration denied it.
After continuous efforts from students and faculty, the LLC was reproposed, accepted, and launched for the 2018-19 school year. But Crossroads was short-lived: in 2020, the Georgetown campus shut down because of COVID-19, and the LLC did not return once restrictions were lifted.
“After we returned to campus from COVID, we were trying to get [Crossroads] started again and there just wasn’t interest,” April Sizemore-Barber, associate professor of Women’s and Gender Studies and former Crossroads faculty advisor, said. “I think just people didn’t know it was there.”
Now, GU Pride has been working to demonstrate student interest in the LLC, collecting information on demand for the space with an interest form that opened on Feb. 10.
“Generally, it seems that people want a more permanent and safe place on campus,”
Jackie Early (CAS ’26), GU Pride’s director of outreach, said. “It’s odd to backslide and have this protected space for a community to be taken away.”
Early believes that Georgetown is a place for dialogue, which a queer LLC could help facilitate. She pointed to the February event about faith and sexuality hosted by Father James Martin in Dahlgren Chapel as an example. Entitled “Building Bridges,” the event discussed reconciliation between the Catholic Church and queer community.
“You’re constantly interacting with communities you would nowhere else see together,” Early said of Georgetown. “That is, I think, an example of what the queer LLC will bring—a space to collaborate with different groups.”
A reopened Crossroads also has support from the GUSA Executive team. GUSA President Ethan Henshaw (CAS ’26) and Vice President Darius Wagner (CAS ’27) included establishing an LGBTQ+ LLC as part of their campaign goal to support marginalized students.
“You would want to make a space where people feel more welcome, where people feel more comfortable, where people would actually want to live,” Wagner said.
The renewed efforts behind an LGBTQ+ LLC come after recent changes in Georgetown’s housing system. Georgetown introduced a gender-inclusive housing pilot program for the Class of 2028, which Georgetown students supported in a GUSA referendum.
“Georgetown deeply values the engagement of our students and appreciates they are making their voices heard on this important topic,” a university spokesperson wrote to the Voice in an email statement about gender-inclusive housing and GU Pride’s effort for an LGBTQ+ LLC.
Residential Living has historically worked on a case-by-case basis to find inclusive housing options for trans and genderqueer
LLC, but not all students go to Georgetown looking to be an active member of the queer community,” Gomez said. “Some of them just want to have housing.”
Like Gomez, Early emphasized that gender-inclusive housing and the LLC are different initiatives, but both can help students find comfortable housing. Early added that she thinks it will take time before Georgetown has housing that feels safe and comfortable for all students.
“I think it’s a very slow and arduous journey to getting to somewhere where people can frankly room in a way in which is comfortable for every single person on campus,” Early said. “It’s just slow, because that is how university administration works.”
Even with the time it takes for changes to be made, Sizemore-Barber emphasized that having inclusive living spaces like these are critical. As the Trump administration targets diversity, equity, and inclusion policies in higher education, including identity-based campus housing, she believes a queer LLC would be a real space of “solace, community, and safety.”
“I do think that having this space on campus is also important in terms of the university’s commitment to its students—to diversity,” Sizemore-Barber said. “It could be something really, really exciting and powerful.” G
55 years ago, Georgetown’s Black House began as hub for community and inclusivity
BY ALESSIA TURNER GRAPHICS BY KATIE SNYDER; LAYOUT BY LUCY MONTALTI
Conan Louis (CAS ’73, GRAD ’78, LAW ’86) arrived at Georgetown in the wake of the Civil Rights Movement, less than 20 years after the university admitted its first Black student. In the 1969 freshman class, he was one of only 23 Black students, out of more than 3,000
“There were no Black faculty, one Black administrator, and us,” Louis told the Voice
at Georgetown, traveled to campus daily during her freshman and sophomore years. Black House was an anchor for her at a school where she looked different from many of her classmates.
“When people would see me walking across campus, they assumed that I worked for the school,” Gillis-Louis said.
easily and there would no longer be a need for such an alliance. Soon, they realized this would not be the case.
Georgetown has made progress in diversity since the 1970s, though it is still a predominantly white institution. Only 6% of enrolled students in 2023 identified as Black, compared to 42% white students.
His freshman year, Georgetown’s Black Student Alliance (BSA) consisted of around 30 Black students total. They envisioned BSA as a way to unite this small group and work towards gaining recognition.
“One of the things we asked for was a place to congregate and where we could have our meetings,” Louis said. “By the end of the semester in 1970, we were given the Black House.”
Fifty-five years later, Black House is home to five undergraduate students and serves as a cultural hub for Black students at Georgetown. While students of all ethnicities may have heard of Black House or enjoyed its social atmosphere, the house is far more than a yellow townhouse that throws parties. Black House hosts professional events for organizations like BSA and the Center for Social Justice and informal gatherings such as club meetings or hair-braiding sessions.
“Black House is one of those spaces that is by Black people, for the people,” Fathia Fasasi (SOH ’27), Black House’s Outreach Coordinator, said.
The original house did not function in the same way that it does today. The Black House, originally known as the Black Student Alliance House, hosted no residents and served as a student center, Louis said.
At the time, the majority of the Black students were native Washingtonians and commuted to school, according to Louis. Black House gave many of them a sense of home on campus. Gail GillisLouis (CAS ’75), Louis’ wife whom he met
As a Black woman at Georgetown, GillisLouis felt she had to be an expert in every setting to prove herself. At Black House, her identity and place at Georgetown were not questioned, and she could destress, especially among other Black women.
“It was just important to be in a room of women and speak to a community where you don’t have to explain yourself,” GillisLouis said.
Louis became the president of BSA during his time at Georgetown. In his tenure, he sought to define what the Black House could be for students. He worked closely with the president and faculty, advocating and raising funds for Black students.
“At that time no one had a vision for the future of the Black House,” Louis said. “It just was what it was.”
A major goal of Black House was to support Louis’s BSA in improving retention among Black students. Of the 23 Black freshmen in Louis’s class, only seven graduated with him.
In hopes to reduce attrition, the Black House began offering academic and social support. There was a library on the second floor, with old blue books and textbooks to help students prepare for exams. The ground floor remained a social space, with loud music playing, card games, and people hanging out on the front steps.
Even with such strong engagement, Black House was envisioned as a temporary site. Paula Scott (CAS ’73, LAW ’76), former president of BSA, explained that members initially wanted to phase out the organization after a few years. She had hoped that an increase of Black students would allow them to become acclimated to Georgetown more
“The original mission was to help the University’s few Black people find each other. Now, we have to redefine exactly what we want[ed] to do,” Scott said.
Following efforts to increase Black enrollment in the early ’70s, the purpose of the Black House and the BSA shifted, focusing more on addressing treatment and support for current students. This new focus brought a sense of permanency to the Black House. The leaders wanted to make Black House a more central location, rather than solely a place for those who felt a lack of belonging in the Georgetown community.
Current residents work hard to carry on the legacy of Black House, upholding its values of inclusivity and community. Today, it serves as a home to club meetings just as much as a space for students who want to practice their DJing.
However, with the Department of Education recently threatening to withhold funding from universities with programs such as identity-based Living Learning Communities like Black House, these cultural spaces have come back into the spotlight.
Mamadou “Momo” Diabate (SFS ’26), Black House’s Communications Coordinator, said that, despite these tensions, Black House provides a critical space in the Georgetown community.
“Just because a student has other spaces on campus where they feel comfortable doesn’t mean the Black House should be taken away,” Diabate said. “You shouldn’t be restricting it because progress has been made—there should always be a continuous goal of trying to progress as a community.” G
Paranoia or protection? Hoya Paranoia, John Thompson, and Black America’s team
BY SYDNEY CARROLL
DESIGN BY ELLE MARINELLO
EContent warning: This piece includes a quoted racial slur.
ntering McDonough Arena between 1972 and 1999, where Georgetown’s basketball team practiced, was a nearly impossible task.
“When you came into McDonough, everything was taped up—it was like Fort Knox. The windows were taped, the doors were taped, the doors were locked,” said Joey Brown (CAS ’94), a former Hoya basketball guard said.
Inside, Coach John Thompson’s basketball teams ran sprints.
In the 27-year Thompson era, secrecy shrouded his national championshipwinning basketball teams: how they operated off the court was a mystery to the public. Freshmen were not allowed to speak at press conferences until January, and even veteran players were only available for 15-minute interviews after games. The team would stay in accommodations over an hour away from their games to avoid both media coverage and opposing teams.
Around 1980, the term “Hoya Paranoia” was born. Reporters, students, and other teams used the phrase to insinuate that Thompson was too worried that engaging with the media would interfere with the Hoyas’ winning streak.
Georgetown certainly won a lot with Thompson as coach. During his tenure, the Hoyas had 596 wins and 239 losses, winning 71% of their games. The Hoyas won the 1984 NCAA championship, made several trips to the finals, and were consistently ranked in the top five.
Behind the taped doors was a coach who would later admit that he was quite paranoid—but for another reason.
Thompson, Georgetown’s first Black basketball coach, was hired just eight years after segregation legally ended. He was one of few Black coaches in the NCAA at the time and cultivated almost entirely Black rosters at Georgetown.
While other Catholic universities recruited Black players as early as the 1930s, Georgetown didn’t graduate their first Black basketball player until 1969, three years before Thompson arrived. Just 14 years later, Georgetown had an all Black lineup in 1983, a massive change in a country resisting integration at all costs.
Thompson and his players faced racism from basketball fans and the media. To protect his athletes, Thompson set the rules on media engagement, and he bore the brunt of the criticism and racist attacks against his team, according to Thompson’s players and his memoir.
The media resented Thompson’s reticence, desperate to cover his topranked Georgetown teams. In an April 1984 article, the Voice’s editorial board rebuked Thompson’s media policies, arguing that if Thompson did not allow player interviews, he should expect negative coverage.
“If Georgetown wants to play the media-dominated game of big-time college basketball, it must play by the rules of the media, to an extent, or suffer the consequence of barbed pens,” the editorial board wrote.
Thompson hoped to shield his young, mostly Black players from the “barbed pens” of a media landscape that racialized and demonized them, his players told the Voice
“He was trying to protect kids from a world that he knew disliked him,” Milton Bell, who played under Thompson for two years before transferring, told the Voice. “Once you sit at that podium as a Georgetown basketball player in the ’80s, as an African American man, you best believe that the questions will be coming fast and serious. And so it was his own unique, loving way to prepare us.”
The teenage players, fresh out of high school, weren’t used to speaking to national media. The media was unforgiving, broadcasting when players stumbled over words or said something they deemed wrong.
After Georgetown’s 1984 national championship win, freshman Reggie Williams (CAS ’87) got tongue-tied in an interview,
emotional because several players lost their parents that season.
“Commentators tried to say Reggie was stupid and went back to that whole thing about our players not deserving to attend Georgetown,” Thompson wrote in his 2020 memoir, I Came As a Shadow. “Don’t throw that judgment on a shy freshman who’s thrust onto live television and gets nervous.”
Media often used racist language to describe Thompson and his teams. In his memoir, Thompson pointed out that the word most often associated with Georgetown men’s basketball in media coverage was “intimidating.” Where other teams and coaches may be called “tough” or “feisty,” Georgetown’s tenacity on the court was almost always associated with physical violence.
The Boston Globe once described Georgetown basketball as “sick, paranoid and petty, pompous and arrogant.” When Thompson denounced the comments as racist, Sports Illustrated writer Curry Kirkpatrick accused Thompson of “wield[ing] his race like a baseball bat.”
News media speculated about the academic capabilities of Georgetown’s players as well. Center Ralph Dalton (CAS ’86) told the Los Angeles Times in 1989: “People ask me, ‘What is Georgetown like? Are you dumb? Are the people you associated with dumb?’”
While many K-12 schools were legally integrated by Thompson’s time as coach, they remained racially segregated due to racist zoning policies. Thompson often recruited players from underfunded school districts; he said in his memoir that he believed these young men had the intelligence to succeed at Georgetown, they just hadn’t been given academic opportunities in the past. And, they did— in 1989, the overall Georgetown graduation rate was only 87%, but 97% of Thompson’s players graduated from Georgetown across his 27-season tenure.
While Thompson couldn’t control those stereotyping and harassing his players, he would share his own experiences to try to teach them how to deal with the negative attention.
In his freshman fall, Vladimir Bosanac (MSB ’94), one of only two European recruits during Thompson’s tenure at Georgetown,
was the subject of a Voice opinion column criticizing Thompson for recruiting a nonAmerican player.
“The thing bothering me most as we enter into a new round of college hoops is the fact that we have a recruit from Yugoslavia,” the column said. “Is it too much to ask that our basketball program ‘buy American?’”
After having read the article, Thompson took him aside, Bosanac said in an interview with the Voice. Thompson told Bosanac about a game during his third season at Georgetown, when someone threw a bedsheet through the gym window which, according to Thompson’s memoir, was painted with the words, “Thompson the [n-word] flop must go.” In telling the story, Thompson hoped to show Bosanac that he had endured prejudice too, but that he would get through it.
“He sort of said something along the lines of like, ‘I want you to know that you’re one of mine and I’m gonna protect you like my family,’” Bosanac recounted to the Voice.
In 1981, elite recruit Patrick Ewing (CAS ’85) arrived on the Hilltop, sending the media into a fervor.
“Once Patrick got there, it put us on a national level,” said Gene Smith (CAS ’84), a member of Thompson’s 1984 NCAA championship team and Ewing’s former teammate. “It was such a clamor for access. That’s when Hoya Paranoia was in its heyday.”
On a roll and starring the most-watched freshman in the nation, all eyes were on Georgetown. Many of those eyes didn’t like what they saw: Georgetown’s entire roster was Black, led by a 6-foot-10 Black coach. Ewing’s renown led him to become one of the biggest targets of the racist attacks.
“I didn’t know about the extensive amount of death threats that Patrick received while he was there,” Smith said. “[Thompson] didn’t mention that to the whole team for fear that, you know, you don’t need that burden.”
In his memoir, Thompson recalled a moment in the 1981-82 season when someone called the Georgetown switchboard and told the operator, “Please tell me Patrick Ewing’s room number because I want to kill him.”
“They can talk about Hoya Paranoia all they want. It ain’t paranoia if they’re really out to get you,” Thompson wrote.
During a 1983 game against Providence, Thompson pulled his team off the court and didn’t return until a sign saying “Patrick Ewing Can’t Read” was removed from the stands. Signs and shirts displaying similar messages were often seen at games. Thompson wrote that spectators would throw bananas onto the court, likening Georgetown’s Black players to apes.
“There’s some cruel people in this world,” Brown said. “I mean they’re talking about 18, 19-year-old boys, for lack of a better word,
and you would not know it from some of the things that you were hearing in the crowd.”
Many non-Black Americans and basketball fans turned against the Hoyas during Thompson’s time as coach, according to his memoir. A 1982 Washington Post headline read, “All America’s ‘Villains?’ Hoyas’ Rep a Bad Rap.” When the team would enter other arenas, opposing pep bands would play Darth Vader’s Theme.
“We embraced the us-against-the world mentality,” Smith said. “I don’t think we embraced it to the point where it motivated us, but we certainly embraced the Darth Vader role.”
Yet, as the team became targets for attacks from much of the country, Black Americans rallied around them.
“Every African American kid from the inner city, we all wanted to play for Coach John Thompson,” Bell said. “He was a beacon of hope for us African American kids.”
Brown, who grew up in a predominantly Black area of rural Louisiana, was surrounded by Georgetown fans back home. Most had never visited the university, they were simply fans of John Thompson, his players and what they represented. As Brown traveled the country with the team, he saw Black fans from home in the stands supporting the Hoyas.
“Everybody in my neighborhood and everybody throughout the state of Louisiana—the Black people—everybody was a Georgetown fan,” Brown said.
Across the country, the Georgetown starter jacket became a status symbol in Black communities, according to players. In fact, it became a somewhat common misconception that Georgetown was a Black university, simply because of Thompson, his mostly Black teams, and their large Black fanbase.
can’t put that into a bottle. You can’t put what was accomplished, how we were received, what the challenges were, how we dealt with the challenges—that’s all on the fly.”
Thompson and his players paved the way for the NCAA basketball of today, in which Black players comprise 50% of men’s teams and 36% of women's teams. While today’s Black athletes no doubt deal with racism and exploitation, the Hoyas were a novelty in their era.
Was he paranoid? Sure. Thompson wrote in his memoir that he was wary of the press and how they could affect his game.
But behind the locked doors and taped windows of McDonough Arena was a group of young Black men shot into the spotlight and made symbols of a movement. And at the helm, towel over his shoulder, was Thompson, their “paranoid” protector.
“He shielded us,” Brown said. “He was literally our protector, and I’m forever grateful to him for that.” G
“I can’t count how many Black people came up to me in airports and other public places to say, ‘Thank you for what you are doing.’ They weren’t just talking about winning games. They were talking about how we represented ourselves as a group of proud, intelligent Black men who showed up wearing coats and ties, who graduated, who were faced with racism and overcame it,” Thompson recalled in his memoir.
Smith had similar experiences meeting other basketball players after graduating.
“I lived in New York for 15 years. I had St. John’s players, I had Connecticut players telling me how much they loved our program—and this is the competition—and what we represented,” Smith said.
Today, Georgetown’s basketball team isn’t as closely associated with Black America as it was during Thompson’s era. To Smith, Thompson’s time was a special moment that couldn’t be replicated.
“It was always Black America’s team. I hear people speak in reverence about it,” he said. “That has to be something organic, right? You
Five years later, I question the 675 hours I spent playing “
”
Animal Crossing: New Horizons
BY AARON POLLOCK
DESIGN BY ELIN CHOE
With the fifth anniversary of “Animal Crossing: New Horizons” looming large on March 20, 2025, I’ve decided to reflect on my history with the game—just how many hours in the past five years have I spent on this virtual island?
After a bit of Nintendo Switch deep digging, I found that I have played at least 675 hours of the game. This timestamp alone is absurd, but in complete transparency, I expected a higher number. By the time I returned to in-person schooling in January 2021, near the end of the all-encompassing COVID-19 shutdown, I had already racked up over 550 hours in under a year. But over the last four years, I have spent no more than 125 hours playing “New Horizons.” When COVID-19 left my daily life, so did “New Horizons.”
The conspiratorial part of me wonders if the game designers knew that the pandemic was coming and planned for the perfect release date, but I recognize that they probably just turned into millions in sales. With my middle school career promptly ending after the pandemic was named a national emergency on March 13, 2020, I often played New Horizons just to fill the void of time.
I played constantly because I had a knack for it. I recently took a nostalgic day trip back to my island, which I named Trinidad, after my mother’s home country. The map is one I’m proud of even after all these years, filled to the brim with life.
The island features bountiful amenities that I built with my own two fingerless villager hands: a library, a sushi restaurant, a zen garden, multiple tiki
bars, and even a diving board off the island’s coast. My villagers are a collection of adorable and popular faces that the Animal Crossing community would call “cuties.” I even have the most popular villager in Animal Crossing history: Raymond, the business cat, who lives in the upscale residential neighborhood with all of my other villagers. Each abode boasts a personalized front porch—in his case, an outdoor office complete with wood flooring, an office set, and a folding floor lamp.
But that was Trinidad at its prime. Now, lifting my eyes from the map, I find my idyllic island has become a deserted fun land. The ground is covered in overgrown weeds that spread in little colonies, and my house is flooded with cockroaches. My villagers simultaneously greet me and guilt me for leaving them behind, the natural product of the near-total radio silence they’ve endured these past few years. Raymond, my favorite smug, big business cat, even goes so far as to ask if I am a ghost. He only exists to me when I open the game, yet he questions my absence, implying his life has gone on sadly without me. Raymond speaks of how he missed me, as if we were old friends on equal footing, until I abandoned him for reasons unknown. Although strange to admit, I do feel guilty.
Part of this remorse stems from the fact that Raymond came to live on this island through my own corrupt bargains. I traded him on the Animal Crossing Discord server like an accessory, using a currency known as “Nook Mile Tickets” (NMTs). In his eyes, we were close friends, but the truth is I bought him online for a few hundred NMTs just because I thought he would improve my island’s aesthetic. I wanted my island to exceed any others I had encountered, so I physically harassed my unwanted villagers, the “uglies,” whacking them with bug nets so they would leave. I bought and sold villagers based solely on their looks; to replace the “uglies,” I invited other “cuties” the same way as I
did Raymond: under false pretenses and with cash transactions.
There is no recourse for my cruelty. Every conversation with a villager in Animal Crossing is scripted. So, even if I told my villagers the truth, that I am never coming back and they live in a Truman Show-like existence for my own entertainment, they could not possibly understand their existence and my unforgivable actions.
I might sound crazy, guilt-tripping myself for lying to imaginary friends. I may have over-imbued these virtual critters with real emotions and feelings, but I also know that I am not alone in transposing the human experience onto undeserving subjects. Some people scold their Alexas or introduce their guitars with names, and I used to pretend that my villagers had human feelings so I could feel less alone during the pandemic.
Is writing in library books such a bad thing?
BY EILEEN MILLER DESIGN BY KATIE REDDY
Ilove to read, but I can’t say I love the two hundred-odd pages of reading I am assigned each week for class. Last January, with a sense of foreboding, I methodically went through my booklists and checked out all the texts available from Georgetown’s library catalogue. After multiple trips to Lau, the stack I ended up with provided an exciting representation of all I would learn this semester, but also a grim reminder of my soon-to-be diminished free time.
Yet, I have managed to get through my readings with an unexpected helping hand: reading partners who offer notes nudging me towards the most critical points and occasionally providing entertainment with their own reactions. Despite their importance to me, I have never met my reading partners, nor do I know their names. My connection to them is tethered to the penciled-in annotations they left in the books that we have, at different points in time, checked out from our university library. It is surprising, the joy I get from some graphite marks on a page. But through the unexpected support I feel from these past readers, these annotations have shifted my attitude on writing in
but these scribblings reminded me that someone else once perused these pages too.
I first gained an appreciation for annotated books my freshman year when I picked up a copy of Eugene Ionesco’s play . The play—whose plot follows the inhabitants of a small French town gradually transforming into certain grayskinned mammals—was sprinkled with highlighted dialogue, underlined words, and penciled-in question marks, leaving behind the trail of a previous reader’s thoughts. When a character undergoes odd behavioral and physical changes, my anonymous reading partner wrote “turning into a rhino?” in the margins, delightfully echoing my own inferences. I enjoyed the play, all the more so because I got to read it alongside someone else. Reading for pleasure is often a solitary activity,
In my academic texts, these annotations have shown me how my classmates can extend beyond those enrolled in my class. Finding study partners is a universal piece of advice for college students. I’ve found mine in the notes past students have left in the margins of the textbooks for my Chinese foreign policy and Taiwanese politics courses. With hundreds of pages to pour over each week, the underlined sentences, bracketed passages, and scribbled stars showed me what information my anonymous classmates thought crucial to retain and brought me comfort during late-night study sessions.
These books are more than a collection of pages bound in a dust jacket-less cover. They are resources that have passed through countless students’ hands before being checked out by me.
There is, however, a tension to my love of annotated library books, inherent to the phenomena itself: these books ultimately belong to the library, not their readers. Reading the book—and perhaps enjoying and learning from a previous reader’s penciled-in comments—is the point of the experience. But at the same time, library books are also meant to be returned, as much as possible, in the same condition as when they were checked out. How many people can write in the margins of a book before it is overrun with notes?
fluorescent lights and go straight to the Lau stacks, where you will find more knowledge than you could acquire in a hundred lifetimes at Georgetown.
Blocks of shelves are dedicated to fiction from every corner of the world, translated and in their original languages. Nonfiction works cover the myriad subjects studied at Georgetown. The Booth Center houses historical documents and artifacts. There are even books of sheet music and medical dictionaries. A library is not a library without the intellectual curiosity it sustains.
Notes left (albeit illicitly) in the margins reflect the shared purpose of a library, reminding me of all the people who read the book before me. I feel a sense of solidarity knowing I am the latest in a chain of students to check out a book and enjoy its story or learn from its content. These books are more than a collection of pages bound in a dust jacket-less cover. They are resources that have passed through countless students’ hands before being checked out by me.
To me, perhaps paradoxically, these annotations remind me of the true purpose of libraries: to be repositories of shared knowledge. On the Hilltop, the voices of those who hate Lau are as loud and enthusiastic as those who vociferously defend it. I belong to the second camp, and my arguments don’t attempt to make up for its oft-maligned aesthetic shortcomings but instead focus on the amazing resources within.
Georgetown’s libraries house 3.5 million books, with 22 million more accessible through the Washington Research Library
In this way—although librarians may disagree with me—library books are the perfect medium for annotations. When you check out a book, you get access not only to the book itself, but also to other students’ reading experiences and takeaways.
Am I suggesting you should write in the margins of the books you check out from Lau? Well, although my appreciation of annotated books has not yet overcome my wariness of writing in them, perhaps my hand is starting to inch towards a pencil. Start small. Write your thoughts on my article in the margins of this magazine. Underline a sentence or two in a book you pick up or star a passage you think is important. The next time you’re struggling through an international relations reading, think about the students who survived the class before and those who will face it in the future, and maybe leave a note or two behind for them too. G
Cooley building for the future with successful second year
Here are Georgetown men’s basketball’s regular season records from the four years since their last tournament appearance and the coach at the time:
2021-22: 6-24 (0-19 BIG EAST) - Ewing
2022-23: 7-24 (2-18 BIG EAST) - Ewing
2023-24: 9-22 (2-18 BIG EAST) - Cooley
2024-25: 17-15 (8-12 BIG EAST) - Cooley
enough to garner him first team all-conference honors—the first time he’s made any allconference team.
One of those is not like the others. Coming into Ed Cooley’s second year on the Hilltop, fans did not have high expectations for this Georgetown basketball season. The BIG EAST preseason coaches poll ranked the Hoyas ninth (of 11), ahead of only Seton Hall and DePaul. Thirty-two games later, the Hoyas finished seventh. For a team that won only four games in conference the previous three years combined, eight conference wins in a season is massive progress. A lot of those flowers, of course, go to the coaching staff for recruiting an almost entirely new cast of players before the season, but also to the players themselves. Before the season at Georgetown’s media day, graduate guard Micah Peavy said, “You’re going to see some things that you haven’t seen on clips.” He did just that: setting new statistical career highs across the board, averaging 17 points, six rebounds, four assists, and two steals per game. His performance would be
At that same media day, junior guard Jayden Epps said, “ I just want to improve my percentages, my leadership, and overall I just want to win.” Epps proceeded to shoot the ball more efficiently and play better defense than he has his entire career, no doubt leading the Hoyas to additional wins. For the season, Epps averaged 13 points per game, shooting a career best 35% from three despite being hampered by an ankle injury for most of the latter half of the season.
And who could forget freshman forward Thomas Sorber, who didn’t make any grand proclamations to the media, yet nevertheless played fantastically for the Hoyas all season long. Sorber earned third team honors, as well as BIG EAST all-freshman honors. He was one of the best freshmen in the country, averaging 15 points, nine rebounds, two blocks, and nearly two steals per game.
While those three led the show for the Hoyas, other players had moments of their own. Take sophomore guard Malik Mack, who joined the trio in averaging double figures, having key outings such as his 27-point showing in a close win at home over Xavier, or sophomore forward Drew Fielder, who had 17 points and nine rebounds in a win over Providence.
season-ending injury, the Hoyas managed to start hot in conference play, sitting at 12-2 (3-0 BIG EAST) on Jan. 3.
From there, though, the injuries started to pile on for the Hoyas. Epps struggled with his ankle, and Sorber was lost for the season in February as the Hoyas skidded to a 5-12 finish. However, Georgetown still had some positive moments during that stretch. They showed great fight on the road against Marquette and the BIG EAST champion St. John’s Red Storm, nearly stealing each of those games.
While many players had great offensive showings, this year’s team showed the most growth on the defensive side of the ball. After ranking 228th, 240th, and 321st in competition-adjusted defensive efficiency over the previous three years according to kenpom.com, Georgetown was the 54th best unit in the country this year. That helped Georgetown crack the top-150 in overall efficiency at 84th, a 108 spot improvement from a year ago.
After starting the year with a couple scares versus mid-majors Lehigh and Fairfield and a blowout home loss to Notre Dame—stop me if you’ve heard this talking point before—this young Georgetown team started to find their feet as the games went by. The nonconference part of their schedule now punctuated with a road win over rival Syracuse Orange. Despite suffering from
The Hoyas swept their arch-rivals, the Villanova Wildcats, using a pair of inspired late-game comebacks to storm their way to victory in the final 18 games. During this run, the Hoyas stood victorious against their coach’s former team, the Providence Friars. A trio of losses to Depaul, including elimination in the first round of the BIG EAST Tournament (with the closing shot an air ball by Epps) put a damper on the team’s success. Yet, overall, fans cannot miss the great strides this program has made over the last 12 months.
The key for Georgetown will be keeping the momentum going into an off-season where they will lose Peavy (graduation) and perhaps Sorber (NBA draft), as they served as both the defensive linchpins and the primary offensive engines. Given that Georgetown came into this season with only one senior and one junior on its entire roster, improvement feels more than doable given this coaching staff’s penchant for developing talent. As an outgoing senior, I can assuredly say that this was the best, and most fun to watch, year of men’s basketball we’ve had in my time here. The program is on its way back up and, for the first time in a while, it feels like much more of a “when” and not an “if” that Georgetown basketball will return to prominence and take its rightful spot back among the top of the BIG EAST. G
Despite Ransom’s heroics, Hoyas fall short of expectations
eorgetown women’s basketball had a rough year on the whole; no need to sugarcoat it. There have been great moments for sure—like every time graduate guard Kelsey Ransom touches a basketball, the senior year leap of center Ariel Jenkins, and the breakthrough of freshman guard Khadee Hession. However, finishing the year at 12-19 (4-14 BIG EAST), 10th in the conference standings, and losing in the second round of the BIG EAST tournament, these results are hardly Darnell Haney’s vision for his first full season as head coach.
After starting the year with an auspicious preseason projection of fifth in the conference in the coaches’ poll, the Hoyas got off to a mediocre start in their challenging non-conference slate. They started at 2-3 before rattling off four successive victories, including upsetting Richmond on the road. Even with a respectable 6-3 record, though, the Hoyas had already suffered a major setback, losing graduate forward and starter Chetanna Nweke for the season. Without Nweke, and with a roster light on experience outside of their top trio of Ransom, Jenkins, and junior guard Victoria Rivera, the Hoyas had an uphill battle.
Led primarily by Ransom’s play, who was spectacular all season and finished with game averages of 20 points, six rebounds, and four assists, the Hoyas had a stronger offensive identity than a year ago. They moved from 150th in the nation to 83rd in opponent-adjusted offensive efficiency per Barttorvik.com. Ransom was not alone, though. While her 20 points per game led the BIG EAST, Jenkins and Rivera joined her in double figures, with Hession putting up a respectable eight points per game of her own. Still, the Hoyas had issues on the defensive side of the court.
After starting 1-1 in conference play, the Hoyas allowed their opponents to score over 70 points per game in four straight losses. Then they held their opponents to less than 70 points on three occasions as they tumbled down the stretch to a 1-8 finish in their last nine games. Their performance shocked fans coming off of
last year, when Haney’s crew allowed only nine teams to reach that mark in 35 games. While nobody wanted to send Ransom off on a year like this, her accomplishments set her apart as a key figure in Georgetown women’s basketball history. In a Jan. 29 loss to Creighton, Ransom became the first member of the program to finish with 1,000 points, 500 rebounds, and 500 assists. In a first round win over Providence in the BIG EAST tournament, she finished with 36 points in a close win for the Hoyas. Beyond that, Ransom also needs to be remembered for her leadership, not only during this past season but also a year ago. She served as a key figure for the program after the tragic passing of former coach Tasha Butts just before the season.
“My goal now is to make these freshmen who don’t know anything and haven’t proven themselves in the least, make sure they know their value,” Ransom said at Georgetown’s media day. “And as, especially women, you’re not told that, right? So it’s important for me to vocalize to them every single day that they are meant to be here, and that they prove to themselves they belong in the room and belong on this team.”
“And that’s essential, not just as basketball players, but as women and minority women, as well,” Ransom added.
No matter the heights this program reaches, the leadership, toughness, and on-court impact of Ransom should never be forgotten.
Georgetown still has things to celebrate about this season beyond the accolades of Ransom. After going from a small-bit role player as an underclassman, Jenkins truly broke out as a senior. She averaged 11 points and 10 rebounds per game, making her presence felt in every game. Hession’s play was also a bright spot, going from an unranked recruit to a key figure of the Hoyas offense, averaging nine points, four rebounds, and two assists in conference play while shooting an impressive 40% from three in that time frame. Fellow freshman Jayden McBride, among others, also had her moments, like when she put up 18 points against Boston University in November.
see such a meaningful player like Ransom leave. But it was also sweet, sweet because of the moments like their wins, sweet because of individual accomplishments, but above all else, sweet because of the love that exists within this program.
That love is something showcased in the way Ransom talks about her team but also in the staff and the other people in the building. That is where the hope for the post-Ransom future lies. After all, a player like Ransom or Rivera or others could have left but didn’t, and that credit goes to the staff.
As Ransom put it: “ Having a staff that has the same values as me, who has the same aspirations for me as a player and as a woman, is something that I don’t know if I’d get at many other places.”
Coach Haney and staff have the belief and love of the people in the building, now what it will come down to is whether that trust and belief translates to development and, more importantly, more wins. G
This was a bittersweet season for the Hoyas. It was bitter because of the ending, bitter because of the injuries, and bitter to
Vibrant community and the hardships of immigrant life In the Heights
BY RHEA BANERJEE
Astory of culture, a soundtrack of wit and aspirations, a musical of vibrant community—Signature Theater’s In the Heights brings Lin Manuel Miranda’s genius to the DMV at an opportune time. Financial worries in an inflating economy and antipathetic narratives around immigration present ample cause for the important conversations highlighted by this musical. Bursting with musical talent and remarkable, honest acting, this mustsee production runs from Feb. 11–May 4 in Arlington, Virginia.
Walking into Signature’s arena-style theater, one is met with colorful store signs littering the railings above. The setting is warm and welcoming, as though the audience members are bystanders walking along the sidewalk with the characters. The brilliance of the set is overpowering and the audience is overwhelmed before the production starts by the exuberance and livelihood of Washington Heights, a predominantly Dominican American neighborhood in New York City. Representing a blend of Latin American cultures, the show includes various Spanish dialects and accents woven into the lyrics.
The musical follows two main characters. One is Usnavi de la Vega (Ángel Lozada) with his bodega, budding romance with Vanessa (Adriana Scalice), and maternal relationship with Abuela Claudia (Rayanne Gonzales)— who miraculously obtains a winning lottery ticket. The other focal character is Nina Rosario (Victoria Gómez), the pride and joy of the neighborhood, who just returned from her first year at Stanford.
Underlying In the Heights are themes of immigration and the American dream, exemplified through stories of immigrants traversing the seas with a backpack and a dream, opening a small bodega
DESIGN BY OLIVIA LI
to be able to make ends meet, or building a thriving car business that’s only expected to grow. This production highlights the beauty and pure humanity often bled dry by the media.
The hardships of immigrants also lie at the forefront of In the Heights. Nina, whose parents own the car service business, returns home from Stanford in the first act. Her first number, “Breathe,” hints at an unfortunate occurrence during her first year that led her to drop out. Gómez’s rendition of the song truly delivered that emotional turmoil; she has an ethereal voice that powerfully strikes through the small space.
It isn’t until the awe-inducing, Tik Tok viral “No Me Diga,” that the audience is confronted with the knowledge that Nina had to drop out because her grades were too low for her scholarship. The witty back-andforth between Vanessa, Daniela (Karmine Alers), Carla (Carianmax Benitez), and Nina highlights the gossipy and close-knit nature of the community. The interjecting, crooning “tell me something I don’t know” repeats as the characters reveal juicy details about Usnavi’s supposed love life and Nina’s small tryst with Benny (Chibueze Ihuoma), an employee of her father’s.
The number climaxes with Nina’s striking declaration of dropping out and prompt run off the stage. She was working overtime to make ends meet, which meant she didn’t have time to study. The challenges of being a firstgeneration student are quite relatable—how does one prioritize academics over making minimum wage when textbooks alone cost hundreds of dollars?
Alongside the personal challenges of immigration, gentrification is another salient issue explored in the production. Many of the
businesses in the Heights were being bought out—the Rosarios’ car service was offered a deal near the beginning of the show, which Nina’s father took for her to be able to afford school, a pervasive point of contention for the family throughout the musical. The family’s business was severely underestimated in worth, but the instant monetary gain was one the family needed. It was a tricky balance of dignity and need for financial stability.
Other shops were also moving out of the area, slowly stripping the neighborhood of its culture and flair. Yet, Usnavi, who was originally going to use the funds from Abuela Claudia’s lottery winnings to travel back to Puerto Rico, decided to stay and rebuild his business after a robbery. His determination to stand against gentrification is an inspiring end to the show.
The musical’s prowess and critical acclaim lie in its lyrical genius, having won Tonys for Best Musical and Best Original Score in 2008. In the Heights was Lin-Manuel Miranda’s first Broadway show, filled with freestyle rap blended with Salsa—it was even deemed a hip-hop version of Rent. The clever production broke barriers and typical musical standards with references to Duke Ellington’s “Take the ‘A’ Train” and Fiddler on the Roof, bringing in a new era of theater. Highlighting Latino culture in American neighborhoods provided a keen visibility that enraptured audiences with the stories of the individual. It continues to be a virtuoso performance of rich cultural representation that was revolutionary in its time and continues to make waves in the current day.
Signature Theater’s In the Heights is an eclectic storm of romance and immigration that marries dreams with reality. It’s a timely one at that, humanizing the struggles of immigrant life often demonized in the media, providing a glimpse into the lives of ordinary people. The show authentically and honestly depicts those trying to take another step forward and achieve their dreams, living in the storied city of New York. Rife with opportunity and struggle, this production is most definitely worth the watch. G
Favorite numbers: “No Me Diga,” “Paciencia y Fe,” “Carnaval del Barrio,” “Finale”
The Washington Spirit looks poised for a championship run BY ANDREW SWANK
GRAPHICS BY ELLIE TA; LAYOUT BY TINA SOLKI
After a painful loss in last year’s National Women’s Soccer League (NWSL) championship game, the Washington Spirit retooled and are out for revenge. New roster additions strengthened the team in key areas, and the Spirit boast one of the league’s strongest casts of returnees. Although injuries and absences threaten to derail this promising season, Washington has asserted itself among the favorites to win this year’s title.
Last Season
In a storybook ending, the Orlando Pride defeated the Spirit 1-0 to win the NWSL championship. Marta, a legendary figure in soccer, and Barbra Banda, one of the best strikers in the world, willed Orlando to the title after years of mediocrity. Their team, which set the record for the league’s longest unbeaten streak, deservedly took home the win.
Still, Washington’s performance last season deserves praise and credit. The Spirit finished as the second seed, four points behind the Pride, despite battling injuries, with standout midfielders Andi Sullivan and Croix Bethune out for much of the season. To a large extent, the squad depth—their quality backups at every position—made up for those losses.
New Additions
The team’s offseason moves looked to address some issues that left them agonizingly short last season. Midfielder Narumi Miura, formerly of the North Carolina Courage, joined the team as a free agent in December. Miura is a defensive midfielder who can anchor the Spirit midfield and allow attackminded players like Bethune freedom to roam. Particularly with the absence of Sullivan, who announced her pregnancy in February, Miura’s passing accuracy and defensive efforts could be important for the Spirit’s success.
Rebeca Bernal from C.F. Monterey in Mexico. Bernal is strong and experienced, helping to fill the center back spot left vacant by Annaïg Butel, who left Washington this offseason. Bernal will likely slot in alongside central defenders Tara McKeown and Esme Morgan, offering additional depth at that position. She can also play a defensive midfield role, like she did against the Pride in the Spirit’s preseason match.
Returners
McKeown and Morgan sit at the core of a strong defensive line that only allowed 28 goals in 26 matches last season, tied for third-best in the league. Goalkeeper Aubrey Kingsbury anchors the unit, saving 75% of shots she faced last season, fifth best among goalkeepers who played at least 10 games.
In Washington's midfield, Bethune, the 2024 NWSL Rookie of the Year, broke out for the Spirit last year. Bethune had more assists than any other player in the league and more goals than any other rookie, while only playing in 17 matches due to injury.
Forward Trinity Rodman, a fixture for the United States Women’s National Team, has been the Spirit’s standout attacker since her rookie year in 2021. Rodman was once again crucial for the Spirit last season, tallying eight goals and six assists. With a roster brimming with talent at all levels, Washington can compete with any team.
Obstacles
It won’t be an easy road to the title, though. The Pride are returning a strong roster, with Banda and Marta coming back for this season. The KC Current and NY/ NJ Gotham FC, who finished in third and fourth, respectively, are also returning star players that could certainly challenge for a title.
midfielder Heather Stainbrook. Additionally, Rodman has been dealing with a back injury since the 2024 Olympics, although she has reportedly been recovering well.
These injury concerns, as well as unforeseen absences, could keep Washington from reaching its full potential. However, fans have reason for optimism. Bethune, Rodman, and Sarr are on the road to recovery. Last season, the Spirit shined as one of the best teams in the league despite missing those three players, Sullivan, and others for portions of the season. The best teams can take injuries in stride and still perform at a high level, and the Spirit showed that capability.
The first glimpse at this season’s team came on March 7 in the Challenge Cup, a preseason trophy match. The Spirit had a chance for revenge on Orlando in the game, although neither team fought at full strength. The teams battled to a 1-1 tie during regular time and needed penalty kicks to decide the winner. The Spirit scored four penalty kicks while the Pride converted just two, and Washington took home the trophy. While just a preseason match that won’t affect the league standings, the win should be a good sign, with the Spirit vanquishing the team they fell short against last year.
The Spirit open their season on the road against the Houston Dash on Friday, March 14. Then, they host the KC Current for their home opener on Saturday, March 22. The Dash finished last in the NWSL last year, but the Current finished fourth, just a single point behind the Spirit. The two games will be a good test of the Spirit’s current strength as they look to avenge last year’s disappointment. G
