OCTOBER 25, 2024
SOUTHERN STUDENTS OF COLOR REFLECT ON MISCONCEPTIONS AND BELONGING AT GEORGETOWN
By Minhal Nazeer
GROWTH THROUGH FAITH: A HALFCENTURY OF VOICES FOR QUEER BELONGING AT GEORGETOWN
By Liam Emery Moynihan
Brendan’s Pumpkin Patch Puzzle
Hint: The highlighted letters are all autumnal staples.
ACROSS:
1. Its water has cucumbers in it
4. Removable part of a stage
5. Bare-bones Halloween costume?
10. “Borrowed” (wink wink)
11. Each
13. One side of a coin
14. “Is that a ____ ?”
15. Macbeth, or McAvoy
17. Exchange, as clothing
19. Scopes trial animals
22. Soup served with lime and bean sprouts
23. Simile word
24. Senior year test
25. Popular baby Halloween costume, he is 27. Singer who always goes out with a bang?
29. Medical setting that sounds like it belongs in Peek-a-boo?
30. Autumnal day trip location, or a description of the squares in dark orange
35. Fifth tire
36. Not so much a requirement
37. Appropriate college for a ghost?
38. Company that created Sonic the Hedgehog
39. Supply you’ll need for 31 Down
40. “That hurts!”
42. Shot-caller in the boardroom
44. Metric listed on the Uber app
45. North Pacific, North Atlantic, and Indian, e.g.
48. Used a friend’s positive rapid test screenshot, e.g.
50. The headboard to Dracula’s bed
55. Ghosts, spirits, and phantoms
56. “Door’s open!”
DOWN:
1. Witch’s dealings 2. Shape my laundry has started to take
3. Noshed 5. Immediately 6. Deep-cut on-campus animal
7. Waterproofing covering 8. Essie competitor
9. DC neighborhood full of recent college grads
10. Advocated (for) 12. Corporation now associated with Addison Rae
14. Where you can win (or lose) big 15. Lurk on Instagram, e.g.
16. Chinese stir-fry dish believed to have been invented in the US
18. “What ___ ___ Made For” (Eilish track)
20. What gets played in a scale
21. Apt name for a chef?
26. Award show recognizing radioplay and streaming popularity
28. This furry friend responds to “yip yip!”
31. Link up before the function
32. Many drink from it upside-down
33. SE city getting a lot of Democrats’ attention this election cycle
34. First in a row of three X’s (or O’s)
37. One of the “Big Three” strategy consulting firms
41. Bundle (up)
43. Part of an “N.G.O.”
44. Barely manage to get by 46. Sites of triages
47. This becomes maple syrup
48. In favor of 49. TI-84 command recalling the previous result
51. Chillax
52. Green prefix
53. Risk mitigated by a H*yas for Choice condomgram ;)
54. Days between today and election
Growth through faith: A half-century of voices for queer belonging at Georgetown
BY LIAM EMERY MOYNIHAN
Growing up attending Catholic school in Colombia, Esteban Morales Herrera (CLAS ’24) was bullied for his queerness as young as 11 years old. Later, at his Catholic undergraduate university, there was only a single transgender professor, whose position was a matter of controversy.
“I came from a country where the Catholic Church—we are mostly Catholics in Colombia—the Catholic Church tends to be a little bit conservative,” Morales Herrera said.
But coming to Georgetown, Morales Herrera has felt as if he is “witnessing years of the future” in the community’s support and inclusion of queer identities at a Catholic university. He sang in the Contemporary Choir for two years and has attended the annual Mass of Belonging, which emphasizes queer belonging within the Catholic Church with participation from senior leadership at Georgetown, according to Morales Herrera.
“They are deeply and genuinely committed to the opportunity of offering not only welcoming spaces, but a real environment of respect—respect, sensitivity, and compassion,” Morales Herrera said of Georgetown’s leadership. “The evidence of a welcoming spirit from the institution of Georgetown is not idealistic. It’s real.”
“At Georgetown, we are deeply proud of our religious tradition and recognize the inherent human dignity of every member of our community,” a university spokesperson wrote.
But Georgetown has not always been a place of belonging for queer students. It has taken brave advocacy from students, faith leaders, and administrators across generations to create the Georgetown where Morales Herrera feels safe and welcomed.
In the 1970s, Georgetown refused official recognition to “Gay People of Georgetown” (GPGU), the organization that would later become GU Pride.
“The University rejected GPGU’s request for University recognition on the grounds that the group presented a homosexual lifestyle as morally acceptable,” then-President Timothy S. Healy, S.J. wrote in a letter to faculty and alumni. “The University stated that norms governing sexual conduct were objective, and that Catholicism does not teach a sexual ethic based merely on personal preference.”
Only after an expensive, eight-year-long, studentdriven lawsuit was Georgetown required by law to grant GPGU equal access to university benefits, though the university still refused to officially recognize the group. Queer advocates on campus note that the university’s failure to fund and recognize GPGU is far from the only time Georgetown has failed its queer community.
In 2007, before the LGBTQ Resource Center existed, a Georgetown student violently attacked a
queer student in a homophobic hate crime, and the university did not publicly address it until weeks later after it was reported in the Washington Blade. In response, students launched the “Out for Change” campaign, pushing for education on queer issues, as well as the hiring of full-time staff members dedicated to supporting queer students. DeGioia held a town hall meeting addressing the movement’s demands, where he announced plans to create a fully-staffed LGBTQ Resource Center—one of the first of its kind at any Catholic university.
“At the heart of the Catholic tradition, we find resources that profoundly support our work for LGBTQ students,” DeGioia said at the town hall. “I am referring, for example, to the Catholic insistence on the dignity and worth of each and every individual, the emphasis on social justice and multicultural understanding, and the Gospel call that we engage all of our sisters and brothers in a spirit of love.”
This moment—announcing a faith-based, concrete commitment to supporting queer students—was the visible beginning of a process of reflection, as Georgetown considered on how it could truly live out its values, driven not by tradition or ideology but by empathy, listening, and action. With the LGBTQ Resource Center’s founding, Georgetown began to recognize how faith could guide it to becoming a place of belonging for queer students, work that continues through to today.
“Looking at the signs of the times through the light of our faiths, right? This is not a simple easy task,” Rev. Greg Schenden, S.J., current director of Campus Ministry, said.
And when Georgetown hasn’t seen the needs of the queer community, queer students have pushed Georgetown to reflect and grow through the GPGU lawsuit, the Out for Change Campaign, and last year’s campaign for gender-inclusive housing.
“I think one of the gifts of being involved in higher education is our students also call us and say, ‘Have you thought about this?’” Schenden said.
Over the years, some leaders in Campus Ministry and administration have uplifted queer students’ voices and needs.
Rev. Howard Gray, S.J., arrived at Georgetown as the special assistant to the president in 2007, amid the turmoil of homophobic hate crimes and student campaigning. He remained at Georgetown until his sudden passing in 2018.
Both Schenden and Shiva Subbaraman— the founding
director of the LGBTQ Resource Center—called Gray the “Yoda of the Jesuits,” describing him as a compassionate and brave voice calling for faithbased justice, especially for queer students. They highlighted Gray’s role in early discussions about the need for the LGBTQ Resource Center.
“Without Father Gray, my work could not have been imagined,” Subbaraman said. “It’s one thing for me to come in and advocate for our community and on behalf of our community, and another for someone in his role as one of the leading voices in the Jesuit world to come in and say, ‘We should do this.’”
Gray and many others over the last five decades have dedicated their work to changing Georgetown for the better and to discerning how Georgetown’s Jesuit values call upon us to affirm the dignity of queer students. Students, faith leaders, and administrators have pushed not only the 200-year-old institution of Georgetown but also the 2,000-year-old institution of Catholicism to change and grow—to become a place where Morales Herrera feels a sense of belonging.
But Schenden emphasized that Georgetown must question how it may still be harming its queer students, even unintentionally.
“How are we going to look back 10 years from now, 40 years from now, 100 years from now?” he asked.
Queer students, especially transgender and nonbinary students, face unresolved barriers to safety and inclusivity at Georgetown. There are few genderneutral restrooms across campus, gender-inclusive housing is yet to be offered to the entire student body, and the university does not offer gender-affirming healthcare.
As Georgetown continues to fall short of fully meeting queer students’ needs, we can look to our history for a degree of clarity and hope. Georgetown’s immense growth over the past half-century is deeply rooted in both faith and relentless advocacy.
“I always say, ‘People are policy,’” Subbaraman
BY IMANI LIBURD
Content warning: This article includes mentions of fatphobia, eating disorders, and suicidal ideation.
“Are you not confident because of your Aweight?” my mom asked me. This pointed but well-meaning question came after I texted her about my professor telling me that I should speak up more in class. Although I denied that my weight affected my confidence level and insisted that I was just shy, my mom knew that there was something more. After some introspection, I had to admit that she was right. Her question made me realize how my size and the widespread negative societal perceptions of plus-size people have impacted how I act and perceive myself not only at Georgetown, but within the context of the world around me.
Weight stigma manifests itself in many ways, with plus-size people earning less money at jobs, receiving disproportionate amounts of hate comments on social media, and being bullied by their peers. These manifestations are rooted in the stereotypes of overweight people being “lazy,” “gross,” and “undesirable” and create lasting effects on one’s physical and mental well-being.
In many ways, the impact of these prejudices are felt in many facets of our lives and communities, including right here at Georgetown. Although the desks offered by the university are usually too small for plus-size students, we often end up sitting in discomfort because asking for accommodations would introduce more judgments of our bodies, especially when the prevailing attitude is that we should just “deal with it.” Beyond discomfort, sitting in seats that are too small can cause pain which affects our ability to focus and retain information. In class, plus-size students like me often don’t want to bring any attention to ourselves. Most of us already stand out as the
biggest in the room, so we won’t raise our hands or answer questions because it leads people to notice our size even more. We also tend to overapologize when we may be slightly in someone’s space or bump into someone because of our size. Constantly hearing negative comments about our weight makes us feel embarrassed and want to avoid large group gatherings entirely.
Low self-esteem and embarrassment are only the beginning of the long list of effects that weight stigma and discrimination can have on overweight people. Over time, constant exposure to weightbased prejudice can lead to the development of eating disorders and suicidal ideation.
During certain periods late in my freshman year, I secretly became focused on not gaining any weight, which developed into a bad relationship with food. If I ever felt like I ate too much one day, I would undereat the next day, often restricting myself to just one meal to punish myself. I would avoid communal meals or snacks and I never felt comfortable enough to get seconds despite my hunger. Even when I did eat at the dining halls, I often sat by myself, far away from others. Though this year has been significantly better, my eating habits are still something I am working to improve.
Georgetown’s lack of support for the plussize community and lack of knowledge about the resources we need to succeed academically worsens the body inclusivity problem on campus.
The university claims to be committed to fostering a diverse and inclusive environment, however it is clear through their actions, or lack thereof, that they don’t believe that environment includes people of different body sizes. The personal biases people have about plus-size people are evident in how they treat us, and the Georgetown community is no exception.
out to the ARC during winter break to ensure I had seating for the spring semester, which they did provide. However, near the end of the spring semester, when I needed more accommodations for a final, they directed me to other resources that, in the end, were ineffective.
These difficult times at this university heightened the stress and anxiety I was already experiencing as a college student away from home. My professors and deans were the only people I could turn to for help. But despite doing all they could to help me, structural issues and a general lack of established resources limited what they could do.
Georgetown needs to educate administrators about the different body sizes on campus and help them understand the resources we need. Talking to plus-size students and listening to our experiences should be the first step to learn what can be done. The university should be more aware and actively think about the body inclusivity problem on campus. It may be impossible to make the seating in all classrooms size-inclusive, but providing accommodations when plus-size students ask for them is something the university can easily do.
Plus-size people will always exist, and should be able to learn in a comfortable environment, receiving the same level of respect given to their peers. Hateful comments and fat-shaming are counterproductive to the goal of everyone being healthy in this country, and the sooner everyone stops using methods of negative reinforcement to motivate plus-size people to lose weight, the better off everyone will be.
Your weight or size doesn’t define who you are or your value. If you want to be the loudest in a class, then you should do that. If you want to sit in the back and just be quiet, then you should do that. But that choice should not be forced on you because society makes you feel like you need to act a certain way. Be yourself, don’t be scared to ask for what you need, stop apologizing for your size, and be confident in the person you are. G
Southern students of color reflect on misconceptions and belonging at Georgetown
BY MINHAL NAZEER
S
tepping foot on Georgetown’s campus just over two months ago, I never realized my background as a Kentuckian would grow into an integral part of my identity. I call Louisville, Kentucky’s largest city, home. At Georgetown, where the majority of students hail from the Northeast or West Coast, many people have never heard of where I live.
Louisville’s metropolitan area is made up of over a million people, including a 37% non-white population and a vibrant immigrant community. I grew up in a large Pakistani community, which gave me a strong connection to my heritage, and I love being from Kentucky—no matter the prejudices associated with Southern red states.
But at Georgetown, Southern students of color are a minority within a minority.
Georgetown’s non-international student population is 57% white, 12% Asian, 10% Hispanic, and 9% Black. Students from Southern states make up 15% of the student body, despite these states constituting nearly 40% of the U.S. population.
As a Pakistani American from the South, I have constantly been met with stereotypical misconceptions—my peers question my connection to my cultural background, intelligence, and quality of life. Southern students of color come from a range of backgrounds unrecognized by our non-Southern peers. Some students grew up in ethnically tight-knit communities; Georgetown is their first experience living in a majority white environment.
“I never thought about my ethnicity or my racial identity in high school, just because everyone had very similar backgrounds,” Gisell Campos (CAS ’25), who is from San Antonio, Texas, said.
While some students said that coming to Georgetown was their first time feeling like a minority, for others, it was a welcome experience to be in a more diverse environment.
“After freshman year, I realized that it’s totally fine to—not that it wasn’t acceptable before—talk about my culture, because people were relating to what I was saying,” Shamitha Kuppala (SFS ’26), another Louisville native, said.
Kuppala said that Georgetown allowed her to realize how her racial background impacted her sense of identity back home.
“When I was in the moment [in high school], I definitely felt like I belonged,” Kuppala said. “But honestly, looking back on it, I feel like there were certain instances where I probably would have felt less left out if I were white.”
Seeing that Kuppala and I are both South Asian Louisvillians, perhaps it’s no surprise that my experience has been similar to hers. Although I grew up in a strong Pakistani community, I also lived in a majority white city where I often felt like I had to code-switch and change how I presented myself depending on the cultural environment. Coming to Georgetown has allowed me to blend those environments together, and here, I’ve felt diversity celebrated.
However, even if Georgetown is relatively more racially diverse than some of our hometowns, the school’s socioeconomic background—60% of students come from families in the top 10% income bracket—can shape Southern students’ sense of belonging. Southern states have, on average, lower-earning populations than those in the Northeast and the West.
“Even the people of color that I do meet here have money. And so there’s a difference there too, and I have to code-switch for that as well,” Haviland Booker (CAS ’27), who is from Austin, Texas, said.
When I talk to my peers about my hometown, many of them assume that I must hate it because of the lack of educational opportunity. While there are disparities between some Southern communities and other parts of the country, it’s a misconception to believe that every Southern student is “escaping” to find a higher quality education by coming to the North. There are plenty of schools in the South with people who are educated, anti-racist, and actively fighting for a better future.
While Northeastern liberals at Georgetown and beyond seem to pride themselves on their progressivism, students from the South said that these values of open-mindedness often don’t seem to extend toward those with Southern backgrounds.
This dismissive attitude is carried into the workforce, feeding into the moral high ground taken by people from traditionally liberal states and leading to policies that ignore the needs of Southerners and dismiss the work of Southern activists.
“I think because people are white and have money and are liberal, they think they understand all these experiences and connect to people, but they don’t actually experience it,” Booker said. “They make assumptions and think that they understand. But they don’t, and they probably never will.”
These misconceptions about their hometowns can heighten feelings of homesickness, Southern students said. Still, Jaden Cobb (CAS ’25), who is from Atlanta, Georgia, said that Southern students who are struggling to find a sense of belonging at Georgetown can find community here.
“You do belong. It doesn’t matter where you come from. It doesn’t matter what you have, how much money your parents have, or what you did in high school,” Cobb said. “The only thing that matters now to everybody is that you all are at Georgetown, and you all belong here at Georgetown.”
In my first few months at Georgetown, I have been able to find community in my friends, classes, and affinity groups like the South Asian Society and the Asian American Students Association. Still, being one of the few undergraduates from Kentucky, I have to work harder to help people understand where I’m coming from, especially when they already hold preconceived notions about my state. Every individual from the South has valuable experiences—these experiences, along with the people I’ve met, make me proud to call myself a Kentuckian.
As a greater community, I implore Georgetown students to set aside their assumptions about students from the South and the belief that our upbringings limit us. Instead, sit down with someone and ask them what they love about their hometown, what they miss, and what they wish they could take back from D.C. with them. To truly understand someone, you can never discount what made them who they are—including where they grew up. G Number
BY MAHIKA SHARMA
Race, Power, and Justice course inspires conversation around university history
One of Georgetown’s newest classes, Race, Power, and Justice at Georgetown, has been in the works for almost a decade. Now, as the fall semester progresses, the six-week long, one-credit course is officially running as a graduation requirement for all students, starting with the class of 2028.
It aims to tell Georgetown’s history “in relation to its neighbors, the United States and world,” according to the Office of the Provost’s website. The class routinely features guest speakers to question how race, power, and justice have functioned at the university.
In 1838, the Maryland Jesuits sold over 314 enslaved people, now known as the GU272+, to save a nearly bankrupt Georgetown. The course’s creation grew out of calls from students and GU272+ descendants for Georgetown to reckon with its own history of enslavement, and teach it. These grassroots efforts culminated in 2015, when Georgetown established the Working Group on Slavery, Memory, and Reconciliation to “establish a dialogue on Georgetown’s historical ties to the institution of slavery.”
For Adam Rothman, a historian of American slavery, the class is a “vindication” of the group’s efforts and accompanying initiatives, including Georgetown’s Center for the Study of Slavery and Its Legacies, where Rothman serves as director.
“It feels amazing. I can’t really describe the feeling I had this past Tuesday,” Rothman said days after the course’s first meeting. “To see the ICC Auditorium filled with first-year students ready to have the kinds of conversations that we’re having in this class, to see the excitement and the energy in the room, was really incredible.”
In the class, students receive a weekly lecture from Rothman on topics ranging from slavery’s role in Georgetown’s history to the meaning of one of the university’s Jesuit values: “faith that does justice.” Along with these lectures,
students participate in discussion sections where professors facilitate small-group conversations.
“This is a collective enterprise, and it’s really important for the university to have this class as part of its curriculum, because it will help new undergraduates at Georgetown understand where they are,” Rothman said.
The class tackles a few grounding questions over the course of the semester.
“What is this place? What is this university? What is its history? What makes it special? How do we solve problems together?” Rothman said. “It’s a culmination of the effort to really get our university community to learn the history and to work through its implications for today.”
Students come up with a question after lecture to pose during their section to spark conversation over confusing or difficult topics covered, from Georgetown’s role as a “global university” to the university’s decision not to add a $27.20 charge to students’ tuition to fund reparations for the GU272+. From there, conversations develop with occasional insight from facilitating professors, who belong to myriad academic disciplines.
“I study African politics, and with the history of politics in Africa, race, power, and justice are central to what I teach about,” Lahra Smith, who teaches in the African Studies program and leads a discussion section, said. “In that sense, it’s not something new to what I’m doing, even though the class itself is new. It’s something I’ve been thinking about for many years personally, but also intellectually and as a teacher.”
Smith’s section highlights another element of the course: students studying at Georgetown’s satellite campus in Doha, Qatar, also participate in the class. While 12 of Smith’s students attend discussion in person, the other 12 attend via online conferencing.
“At Georgetown, we have students who come from all over the world. But when people are
physically in another part of the world, it gives you that reminder to always be thinking that the American-centric perspective is not the only perspective on these histories,” Smith said.
According to Smith, these discussions benefit from a diversity of experiences just on account of where participants come from.
“People know about America’s history of slavery. When you bring that into the global context, and we talk about racial inequality in the United States versus in the Gulf states, that becomes an opportunity to broaden the way that we think about our own experience,” Smith said.
While the exact trajectory of the discussions depends on the section, some students who had previously been unfamiliar with these topics were surprised by what they learned. Stacy Liu (SOH ’28) is one such freshman, who said her first Race, Power, and Justice lecture about the GU 272+ helped her realize the importance of these conversations.
“When I was applying, on the website there was virtually no information,” Liu said. “So I think that it’s really important to talk about the systematic disparities, and also how you could address them as a student and even after you graduate.”
Homework assignments that supplement the class meetings can also be thought-provoking. For example, one reading assigned to students was a university document written by founder John Carroll that discussed his desire for Georgetown to feature religious and cultural diversity. When Autumn Rain Nachman (CAS ’28) compared this document to the university’s historic mistreatment of minorities she had been learning about, she uncovered a contradiction.
“It was really interesting, as I felt like they were trying to introduce us to the idea of, ‘This is something we’ve always wanted,’ even though it’s very evident that it’s not something that Georgetown has always practiced,” Nachman said.
Faculty and first-years alike have expressed a genuine interest in the class’s themes—as well as a desire to make change by platforming marginalized voices, such as GU272+ descendants and the university’s facilities and dining workers.
“The first thing that we can do is start working on issues on campus,” Nachman said. “Then of course, beyond Georgetown, the discussion of reparations and reflecting on history in a reflective and contemplative way is so important, especially because students want to work in D.C. or in things like lawmaking and business that shape the next 200 years for America and beyond.”
But working to achieve social justice, whether on campus or beyond, starts with understanding social issues. Race, Power, and Justice at Georgetown motivates students to do just that.
“It’s important for everybody to recognize where we came from, the mistakes that we’ve made,” Nachman said. “And how we move past that.” G
graphics by leah abraham; layout by tina solki;
Left: Pictured with her family, Louisa Mahoney Mason escaped the 1838 sale of the GU 272+.
My conversations with men: Why they'd rather talk to me than their bros
back and forth (see a Harper’s Bazaar article by Melanie Hamlett, a woman). We ponder for hours over the seemingly elusive nature of men’s mental health: What are their friendships like? What do they talk about? Do they even know how to feel? These questions could just as easily be directed to an alien species as to almost half of the human population. We perceived men as emotionally unexpressive, uncomfortable with vulnerability, and stoic—but that answer felt unsatisfying. I grew disappointed with the amount of aimless speculation in our conversations. It is a big question: How can we improve men’s mental health? Searching for an answer, I decided to ask men.
Over the course of a month, I talked to seven Georgetown men, all of whom were sourced from friends of mine and whom I had never met. The plan was simple: the interviews would be anonymous and conversational, geared towards the topic of men’s mental health—however they wanted to interpret that.
It’s important to note that these men all identified as cisgender but came from diverse racial and sexual identities, which informed their responses. Additionally, their family structures also differed. Growing up, some had “traditionally masculine” father figures, while others came from single-mother households. Certainly, these backgrounds impacted how comfortable they were with their emotions, but all of them ultimately had to seek out spaces for vulnerability.
Of course, these experiences won’t ring true for all people who identify as men or women—gender is filtered by so many other aspects of identity and isn’t binary. My lived experiences and those of my interviewees are limited, but I hope this commentary reshapes the conversation around men’s mental health towards one that’s empathetic, complex, solution-oriented, and inclusive.
I opened every interview with the question, “How do you define mental health? How do you interact or take care of it every day?”
On an individual level, most of the guys
acknowledged their personal mental health as a critical consideration in their life. One student explained to me that he gauges the state of his mental health by determining whether his thoughts feel organized or scattered, and sees the process of reorganizing his thoughts as translating his “emotional brain” into his “rational brain” through methods like journaling and meditation. Others identified exercise as a way to decompress. While that may fulfill the classic image of the gym-bro, it is, in all seriousness, a great hobby to fall back on for managing anxiety. I was surprised with how many guys had direct tactics to process and care for their mental health, considering how we paint the men’s mental health crisis as stemming from their inability to understand emotions in the first place.
Most of these men had ways to deal with their mental health on a case-by-case basis, but caring for one’s mental health should not be an act of crisis management. As one interviewee said, he is only conscious of his mental health “the worse it is.” Therefore, it seems the crux of the problem is that taking care of one’s mental health is not seen as an everyday practice which requires strong relationships and communities to support. This is true for anyone, not just men.
My mental and emotional life has been shaped by the people around me, who are primarily women. It’s no secret that women tend to express emotional depth in nearly every conversation, from gossiping about boys to sharing our childhood trauma; we can approach gossip with an analytical lens worthy of a JSTOR article and actively seek out emotional complexities on a daily basis. Naturally, inviting those more profound conversations is a critical step in building our close relationships—and men do recognize this.
Nearly every single man I interviewed admitted that they felt more comfortable talking about their emotions with the women in their lives versus the men. As one guy simply put, “I just trust my friends who are women to have a better and more emotionally intelligent response.” And that’s not to say that the men I interviewed don’t have any emotionally intelligent men in their lives to talk to; they
BY ALEX LALLI
do. But even then, they note that the most emotionally intelligent women in their lives outpace the most expressive or emotionally
Consequently, the men’s mental health crisis not only impacts the men themselves, but also the women in their lives. The classic case would be the girlfriend who becomes a therapist for her boyfriend. And the men I interviewed
find themselves in male-dominated circles where the emotional dynamics completely flip. One interviewee put it this way: “I don’t think men and women’s innate capacity for emotional maturity is very different,” but instead there’s “a different rulebook that you play by when you’re making friends with guys than with girls.” There’s a critical difference between a lack of caring and different forms of caring. As mentioned, women tend to care more outwardly, constantly asking questions, checking in, welcoming emotional depth. In simplest terms, if they know a friend is going through something, the natural step would be to check in on them. For men, it’s different. According to responses, men try to respect boundaries and prevent further discomfort for the other person by avoiding emotionally challenging conversations, which can be perceived as apathy towards someone’s situation when it’s not meant that way. When asked about how he would handle a friend coming to him with an emotional issue, one guy observed that most of the time, “you can tell they don’t really want to dig into it very much,” even when they are the ones to broach the subject. “I don’t know what I would do if a friend came to me like that. I would probably push a little bit. But then it’s like, you don’t want to push so much to where [you’re making them uncomfortable].” To men, the caring thing to do is to give people space, and that stems from a discomfort around discussing emotions openly. You could spend forever tracing the roots of this discomfort. However, one thing to distinguish is that it is not inherent. Men, if given the proper space, want to express how they feel and listen to others do the same. Every single guy I interviewed expressed some interest—to varying degrees—in being able to open up with the people around them. However, men are wary of the
mutually understood hesitation around emotions, and therefore don’t initiate emotionally challenging conversations so as to not cross people’s boundaries—even if they understand that doing so perpetuates expectations around masculinity and emotional expression. This mindset, though not intended to do harm, establishes a self-perpetuating cycle in which men who are struggling don’t open up and their friends don’t offer support, all in an effort to avoid causing the other unease. Ultimately, men are left in a dearth of spaces and communities where they can develop the emotional maturity to cross that line of discomfort.
This gap in the male social sphere has taken an insidious turn in recent years with the festering of incel culture. The topic of incels— an online community of men who blame and revile women for their lack of romantic success—came up organically in most of my conversations, because as much as we may want to cast them off as a fringe movement, incel culture is dangerously prominent. Many of the men I interviewed could quickly cite at least a couple guys they knew who expressed misogynistic rhetoric. And while these men should absolutely be condemned and held accountable for their beliefs, it’s worth understanding what brought them to that place. “I think that a lot of people do genuinely find some sort of community in it,” one guy suggested. “They feel mad at the world, and hear these other people that are mad at the world and think yeah, maybe I’m like that. Even if they really aren’t—they will try to mimic that as much as they can so that they can feel like they’re a part of something.”
Clearly, men lack some emotional support systems, which is detrimental to not only their mental well-being, but society’s well-being. This conversation isn’t new, but it usually stops here, which is why I ended every interview with the same question: “If you could suggest anything to improve the state of men’s mental health in the U.S., what would that be?”
It’s a big question and they certainly hesitated at proclaiming a catch-all solution. Interestingly, none of the men could really think of any institutional changes that they felt would make a considerable difference. For example, when the question of pushing men’s therapy came up, most of them acknowledged its importance but felt that even with the confidentiality, “it’s harder with men, because there’s a lot of stereotypes and expectations that are under that.” Point being, if you perceive the idea of
expressing emotions as uncomfortable, signing up to do it with a professional is not the most inviting option.
Instead, many guys reframed the conversation around men’s mental health to be one of support and hope rather than of complacent critique. I was struck by how one guy explained how different rhetoric could possibly motivate more men to take direct steps in improving their mental health. “I think when you say men are mentally unwell because they’re emotionally stunted, because masculinity is toxic,” he posited, “yeah, no man looks at that and says, ‘Well, I want to get better.’” But, an alternative framing could be, “This is the society that we live in, and these are the kind of roles that we’ve constructed for ourselves, and they have these consequences, and they’re negative for many different people, and so that’s why we’re pushing against it.”
Perhaps the most important advice they gave was to urge individual men to resist emotional discomfort and start the right conversations. “I always try and initiate conversations with my male friends to kind of model vulnerability, because then they’ll be vulnerable with me back,” one guy said. “And so I think if men who are comfortable with that make a concerted effort to do that, it’ll kind of spread.”
I originally wrote this piece because I noticed a lack of a solutions-based direction for the men’s mental health crisis. But over the course of these interviews, I quickly realized that there is no concrete solution we can prescribe to men that would help them develop their emotional expression; that’s inherent to them and it’s ultimately up to them to work on it within their own support systems. This is not necessarily an easy feat or practice; socially ingrained expectations are at once intangible and pervasive, making them a tricky barrier to overcome. Furthermore, men who don’t fall in the category of cisgender, straight, white men face their own independent challenges when working to improve their mental and social health. These diverse experiences deserve their own in-depth conversations, showing the complexities of the men’s mental health crisis that beg to be addressed. However, recalling what one interviewee said, the main thing that we can collectively do is change the way we talk about it: men are capable, wanting, and deserving of spaces where they can feel emotionally supported and do the same for others. G
Students are money and identities GroupMe
BY SAM MONTEIRO
graphics by katie reddy; layout by cecilia cassidy
KARINA HAN
In Saturday Night, Lorne Michaels has concepts of a plan
BY LUCY MONTALTI
It’s 10 p.m. on Oct. 11, 1975 in Studio 8H at 30 Rockefeller Plz., New York City. A production assistant just took a hit of a mystery strain of weed. A poor stagehand has just begun laying bricks on set. A cast member is flat-out refusing to sign his contract. There’s a llama—no one can quite recall which sketch requires a llama. Most people are probably on coke, and everybody is definitely an asshole. With just 90 minutes and counting until air, nobody, not even the showrunner, can actually explain what the show is supposed to be. Live from New York, it’s Saturday Night!
to-life retelling of the series of challenges and miracles that led to the ticking time bomb that was SNL’s very first episode.
Perfectly coinciding with the show’s 50-year anniversary, director Jason Reitman’s Saturday Night (2024) tells the gloriously hectic story of the premiere of NBC’s Saturday Night Live ( SNL , 1975-present). Right from the film’s opening, you’re transported into a world of plaid pants, strong sideburns, and exploding color, which immediately conjures the revolutionary spirit of the 1970s. Featuring an ensemble of iconic performers like Dan Aykroyd (Dylan O’Brien) and pivotal behindthe-scenes forces like Rosie Shuster (Rachel Sennott), Saturday Night focuses on showrunner Lorne Michaels (Gabriel LaBelle) as he struggles to wrangle together a mutinous crew, skeptical TV executives, and the rambunctious “Not Ready for Prime Time Players.” Saturday Night is wildly hilarious and wickedly intense as Reitman guides the audience in real time through a (somewhat) true-
As a big fan of SNL (and a bigger fan of phenomenal movie posters), I was beyond excited for Saturday Night. Eager to get a peek into what the movie would entail, I watched the first episode beforehand, and having that context significantly impacted how I experienced Saturday Night. The film is filled to the brim with references and historical moments that in-the-know fans will recognize, from Andy Kaufman’s Mighty Mouse sketch to the fact that Billy Crystal, subsequently a huge comedy star, was actually cut from that first episode. The script certainly takes measures to staunch any confusion that may arise from the whirlwind of names and egos— characters’ names are thankfully repeated constantly throughout the film. Still, the magic of Saturday Night is found in the moments that have you internally pointing at the screen and yelling, “I know that reference!” With these cheeky callbacks being so instrumental to the storytelling, key elements might get lost in the mix for an unfamiliar viewer.
That being said, the pure and utter chaos imbued into this movie creates an energy with wide appeal. Reitman embraces a kooky eccentricity that feeds into bizarre decisions like casting Nicholas Braun in the roles of both Andy Kaufman and Jim Henson. Reasonably, we probably didn’t need two Nicholas Brauns, but there’s something oddly fitting about it— SNL has its fair share of offbeat choices, so why can’t Saturday Night? The movie’s pace is just as relentless as its comedy; scenes move quickly, conversations are snappy, and it often feels as if the camera is in constant motion. It’s the select scenes where the movie deliberately slows down, however, that are truly striking. The clock is running out, yet you’re suddenly trapped in an agonizingly slow elevator or following Lorne as he walks to a nearby bar. Saturday Night’s skillful direction builds this tension, and even though we already know how the story ends, you feel like you’re right there in Studio 8H as everything is just one misstep away from total disaster.
It would be understandable to see this movie for the cast alone. The film’s stacked lineup boasts big names like Willem Dafoe and J.K. Simmons, playing skeptical executive David
respectively. Alongside them, Ella Hunt is incredibly charming as Gilda Radner, and Cory Michael Smith plays a perfectly hateable Chevy Chase. As Rosie Shuster, Lorne Michaels’s now ex-wife and a crucial figure in the show’s creation, Rachel Sennott adds an extra air of coolness as the level-headed yet powerful voice of reason amid the chaos. Recent Emmy winner Lamorne Morris is especially endearing in his portrayal of Garrett Morris (no relation) as he finds his place within the cast against the backdrop of a post-civil rights era world. Other notable names in the cast include Andrew Barth Feldman, Finn Wolfhard, and Kaia Gerber. From start to finish, the movie’s ensemble reinforces the very same message sent by the original SNL: the future of comedy is indeed in good hands.
Of course, Reitman and co-writer Gil Kenan take many liberties with the legend of SNL, but that’s to be expected of any film attempting to recreate a moment in history. Certain events seem to be entirely the creation of Reitman and Kenan (without giving any spoilers, let’s just say, “Bumblebees on Ice”—if you know, you know). Other embellishments to the true story are rooted in some truth, even if they didn’t exactly occur minutes before showtime. Saturday Night isn’t trying to be a completely accurate retelling of those 90 minutes, but rather an homage to the heart and soul of SNL. SNL is the wacky brainchild of young, ambitious comedians who had zero idea what they were doing. The line between truth and absurdity is blurry, and Reitman rightfully leans into that ambiguity.
At its core, Saturday Night is a delightfully witty love letter to comedic performance, the highs and lows of live television, and the motley crew that has defined SNL since its inception. It’s not a perfect movie— its celebratory love for its subject matter sometimes slips into mythologized flattery of Lorne Michaels. Even so, the film successfully captures the madness, anger, and sheer terror of putting together a live show in real time. For long-time fans of SNL , this movie is a nostalgic look at the show’s messy birth. For everyone else, it’s a fast-paced glimpse into a pivotal moment of showbiz history, complete with top-tier mid-’70s visuals. It will make you scream. It will make you laugh. And, if you don’t already love Rachel Sennott, it will make you love Rachel Sennott.
And just like SNL , it’s a little strange, a little chaotic, and undeniably entertaining. G
Poignant and authentic, A24’s We Live in Time is a fleeting tale of devotion and grief
BY EILEEN CHEN
To race against time is to lose, and Almut hates losing.
We Live in Time (2024) follows the lives of Almut (Florence Pugh), a headstrong, aspiring chef, and Tobias (Andrew Garfield), a mellow, modest Weetabix corporate employee. Brought together by chance at critical points in both of their lives—one having just opened a restaurant and the other newly divorced—the two hasten to cherish every remaining moment of their love story after Almut is diagnosed with a terminal illness.
The couple couldn’t be more different: whereas Almut doesn’t seem to desire the idea of settling down and getting married, Tobias wants nothing more than to start a family. That clash is the mother of all the film’s conflicts, making the couple’s relationship all the more unconventional. Still, the film pushes the audience to become increasingly invested in their story as the couple tries to reconcile their fundamental differences. A tale of star-crossed love, We Live in Time appeals to the yearner in us all.
Pugh and Garfield complement each other perfectly. Their compatibility was teased in the film’s early press release photos from August, which portrayed the duo sharing a carousel seat, smiles merry and bright—the chemistry palpable despite the intrusive presence of a now viral bright yellow horse. Both actors deliver phenomenally detailed and nuanced performances that highlight the juxtaposition of their characters’ personalities: Almut the embodiment of a fighter with a fire that burns brighter in the face of insurmountable challenge, and Tobias the epitome of a soft, heartmelting girl dad.
We Live in Time is an aesthetically beautiful film, with gorgeous people and gorgeous scenes. In a smartly conceived shot after the couple’s first night together, the door to Almut’s apartment evenly divides the frame, with the couple leaning on either side and laughing before leaving. In just one brief moment, the scene communicates the breadth of tender, innocent joy that comes with meeting someone new for the first time. And the aforementioned carousel scene—despite how random and silly the horse is—is characterized by brilliant color grading and cinematic panning that make the moment feel magical.
and often subtly, from beginning to end. For instance, there is a certain dramatic irony in Tobias crashing a baby shower after the two fight about having kids. Never overstating their meaning, the hidden nuances allow both casual moviegoers and those more attuned to studying cinema to find equal entertainment.
The clever use of irony exemplifies the production’s overall tact in marrying comedic elements with darker, sadder themes—two genres that both make up a substantial amount of director John Crowley’s filmography. For a movie with a backdrop as melancholy as this one, the film does an excellent job of fostering an environment where we feel comfortable laughing. Witty, well-timed jokes and scenes that embrace absurdity prompt chuckles to escape from our lips, but the humor never detracts from the gravity of the conflicts at hand. This delicate balance is a testament to the writers’ care in developing scenes that manage to be simultaneously funny, heartfelt, and authentic and the leads’ dedication to delivering them.
The movie isn’t just a work of technical mastery; it also features masterful storytelling through its expert use of symbolism. Simple motifs like a dog and an egg being cracked are connected to themes of death, grief, and memory and carried wholly,
Perhaps the most crucial element to the film’s authenticity is that both individuals are critically flawed: Tobias’s Achilles’ heel is his passiveness, and Almut’s is her stubbornness. It’s unclear whether they ever really learn to meet in the middle. It’s possible that Tobias genuinely does grow to let go of his hopeless pursuit of a pictureperfect marriage, but it’s equally likely that he, out of love, surrenders to Almut’s will without actually believing it. Similarly, we can’t really tell if Almut came to find fulfillment in the mundane or was begrudgingly brought to compromise.
Part of this ambiguity comes from the fact that the film lacks any climax or confrontation that packs enough of a punch to showcase significant growth on either person’s part. The couple has their fair share of fights and the dialogue is admittedly wellwritten—it flows naturally and feels realistic—but there is no threat of intensity or explicit apology that follows their spats. Instead, the outcomes of their conversations are implicitly communicated via sudden jumps in time. For instance, we watch Almut tell Tobias that her competitive commitments conflict with a celebration he had planned, and then we see him throwing away the invitations. Since we rarely see the process of one person mentally changing or falling more in love—these shifts are just expressed based on how their behavior has changed at a different point in
time—it does beg the question of whether it is lazy scriptwriting to rely entirely on audience inference to do all the work. Ultimately, while their questionable redemption arcs make Almut and Tobias arguably difficult to root for at times, the fact that they’re left open to interpretation is perhaps reflective of the harsh, realistic story that the movie wholeheartedly commits itself to telling.
In an interview at the film’s North American premiere, Crowley shared that “we set out to make a real story about these two people.” Throughout the runtime, the movie never stops being a romantic comedy, but the one place it deviates from your classic romcom is the glaring lack of a fairytale happily-ever-after. Certainly, there are endings that would have been happier and much more quintessential—Almut realizes her career dreams, the two get married, the medical limits placed on the couple’s time together disappear— but they wouldn’t have felt real. Those alternative resolutions would have given us more closure as an audience, but to give the couple a sunshine-andrainbows ending would almost have felt like a bitter farce of the painfully real and prevalent battle that they fought. In fact, the ending only lasts a couple minutes, which leaves us feeling a bit empty, and yet perhaps that was the point—we live only in our present time, and there’s no point dwelling on the past or the future. G
Jimmy Kibble and Georgetown football are building a winning culture
BY ANDREW SWANK
Georgetown football (4-3, 1-1 Patriot League) is heading down the home stretch of the season determined to prove their skeptics wrong. It’s clear that the team has undergone a huge transformation, but from the outside looking in, it’s hard to pinpoint what is so different this year. In an interview with the Voice, junior wide receiver Jimmy Kibble said that, although it may not be obvious to fans, the team’s mentality has totally changed.
“From my freshman year to junior year, we’ve had a big culture shift. I don’t know if that can be seen or is easily visible from the outside. But being internally at least it’s been just a complete shift of a drive, a new desire to want to win, and be more of a community and team. And this season I’ve seen it tenfold and we’ve had so many different guys buy in,” Kibble said.
The team’s new mindset paid off for the Hoyas in two recent games against familiar opposition. Georgetown upset Columbia (4-1, 2-0 Ivy League) and Lafayette (4-3, 1-1 Patriot League) on back-toback Saturdays. Both opponents outclassed the Hoyas last year, with a particularly embarrassing 30-0 loss coming from Columbia. Kibble added that the team felt especially motivated to win based on the memory of those losses.
“Honestly, you can see it, you can feel it in the atmosphere leading up to the game all throughout
the week of preparation,” he said. “You have guys having that chip on their shoulder from the year prior because you only get 11 games in a season, you get 365 days before you get to play that team again. It’s an all-or-nothing deal that one day. So I think a lot of guys bought into that idea and just having that chip on their shoulder and wanting it more.”
Kibble gave credit to his teammates and coaches for the recent victories, yet few individuals have had a bigger impact on Georgetown’s success than the star wide receiver. He leads the team with 587 receiving yards, 164 of which came in the comeback victory over Columbia. In that game, Kibble was Georgetown’s go-to target in important situations. That’s a role that he says he embraces, wanting to be there for the Hoyas in important moments.
“I want to be that safety net for our team. Not to say I don’t want the ball in non-crucial downs, but I want to be that fallback,” Kibble said. “3rd and 10, we need a catch, we need these yards. ‘Let’s throw it to Jimmy.’”
Having a target who can consistently make plays when Georgetown needs it most benefits the whole offense. The team’s offensive coordinator, Rob Spence, and head coach, Rob Sgarlata, have designed a system that allows players like Kibble to showcase their talents. Their system provides freedom for players by
not overcomplicating the offense and instead focusing on getting the fundamentals right.
“I think what we really want to do, at least from my side, offense, we want to keep it simple,” Kibble said. “We really just want to make the layups, as some of our coaches say, make the simple play simple, keep easy easy, and just continue rolling the ball, not trying to get too complex and get too complicated in our offensive schemes.”
Kibble also spoke about his desire to evolve his game and become a more versatile player. Despite starting out as a deep threat who attacked defenses over the top, the junior wants to become a player who can attack a defense on short, intermediate, and long routes. That added versatility paid off for Georgetown in their most recent matchup against the Colgate Raiders. Kibble ran an intermediate route that created yards of separation from his defender, resulting in his first touchdown reception. His second score came from a long pass over the top of the defense.
Georgetown’s offense will need to maintain this momentum over the rest of the season, as all remaining four games are against conference opponents. The Hoyas could be in contention for their first-ever Patriot League championship if they win out, but it’ll take an unprecedented run to end the season in first place, especially with conference leaders Holy Cross (3-5, 2-0 Patriot League) still on the schedule for Nov. 23 in a potential Patriot League decider game. Kibble expressed that the team has a strong desire to win their conference matchups.
“The back half of our season is all Patriot League games, so getting into league play, all of those games are circled. We want to beat every single team. We want to show not only our own fan base, but also the league, everyone in the league, who we are and who we can be. Set ourselves up for playoffs, set ourselves up for the coming years, and just bring pride to the school and the team,” he said.
Kibble’s unshakable desire to consistently improve and beat every opponent on Georgetown’s schedule is one reason for his standout season. However, he’s not alone in believing that the Hoyas can continue to defy expectations this year. The whole team has bought into this renewed desire and competitive spirit—and that’s made a huge difference for the Hoyas in their strong 2024 season thus far.
“We have a lot of guys who are just completely driven and that’s really all it is because you get to this level and, especially our team, every single person is talented. Everyone has their own contributions to the team. It’s really just that mentality,” Kibble said. “We needed that extra step and I feel like we’re getting over that hump and we really have dove into the act of being a community and just wanting to give all of ourselves to each other to get to the common goal of winning the Patriot League.” G
Georgetown football continues Patriot League play on Saturday, Oct. 26 at Cooper Field against Bucknell at 2 p.m. For continued coverage and updates on Georgetown sports, follow @GUVoiceSports on Twitter.
Hoyascope today horrorscopes for Halloweekend
Read the extended version of this article on georgetownvoice.com!
Leo (July 23–Aug. 22)
By Hailey Wharram
Leo, considering your namesake here on campus already sends shivers down our spines year-round (“My chicken! It’s… it’s PINK!”), it should come as no surprise that spooky season is your time to shine. With the big weekend fast approaching, you might be feeling the pressure to outdo your iconic looks of years past. However, dear sweet firecracker, fret not. Even flying by the seat of your pants, “Heads Will Roll” (Marie Antoinette style) as soon as you walk into the function.
Virgo (Aug. 23–Sept. 22)
By Ryan Goodwin
to stick to your guns when literally everyone is against you takes some balls. But, for this Halloweekend, I want to encourage you to let go. Return that $300 Reformation dress—you don’t need to be a biblically accurate Christine Daaé. Some SigEp freshman in a Patrick Bateman costume is probably going to spill their Natty Lite all over it anyway.
Gemini (May 21–June 21)
By Tina Solki
I know you, Gemini. I know what you did. That smug little secret you’re holding coffin-tight to your chest isn’t long for this world, so make your peace and say your prayers before it gives up the ghost. Karma bites, but maybe you’re the type to ask it to leave a
Cancer (June 22–July 22)
By Karcin Hagi
Hey Cancer, it’s me. So you know the six Halloween costumes you’ve ordered? What are those for? You don’t even have a single event to wear one of them to. Let’s rethink our spending habits this fall, shall we? And, more importantly, let’s talk about why you thought your niche costume was going to be well received in this elitist hellhole.
Sagittarius (Nov. 22–Dec. 21)
By Koharu Ando
You’re a free spirit, and just like your fellow Sagittarius T-Swift said, “Anytime someone tells me I can’t do something, I want to do it more.” But she was trying to prove she could play 12-string guitar. You, however, are not a famous singer-songwriter. When your friends inevitably say no, you can’t wander off 10 minutes after you all show up to the function. So maybe, just maybe, we listen to them.
Capricorn (Dec. 22–Jan. 19)
Take a deep breath, delete “costume planning” from your to-do list and your Gcal, shut your computer, and take a walk to CVS to buy some basic cat ears or something. Be uninspired! Embrace the mediocrity of the headpiece and all-black ensemble pairing because, let’s be real, no one’s judging you as harshly as you’re judging yourself.
Libra (Sept. 23–Oct. 23)
By Ajani
Jones
It’s once again that time of year when you must somehow manage to strike a balance between nonchalant and sexy (which some historians would say was Hercules’ secret 13th, and arguably hardest, labor). And, really, what better way to embrace your inner Devil’s advocate than dressing up as the super sexy demon consultant you were always destined to be?
Scorpio (Oct. 24–Nov. 21)
By Phoebe Nash
By Lucy Montalti
Don’t stress over minor costume imperfections. Sure, your DIY skills didn’t quite live up to the pictures on your secret Pinterest board. And yes, that you ordered is shipping from China and will arrive at Leavey in late December. Who cares? It’ll be dark outside anyway. Besides, nobody commits to a role like you do.
Aquarius (Jan. 20-Feb. 18)
By
Zachary Warren
Aquariuses, we know you love Halloween, and frankly, Halloween loves you right back. There’s no better time for your eccentric creativity to flow than when the air is crisp, the pumpkins are out, and everyone’s vision is slightly obscured by Spirit Halloween masks. Whereas time of year your style catches the judgment of ornery senior citizens and cutthroat eighth graders alike, now is the time for you to take the spotlight.
As you walk home at the end of the night, surrounded by friends who are all way drunker than you and will definitely “forget” to Venmo you for the Uber (but demand you send pictures anyway), you can sleep soundly knowing
Pisces (Feb. 19-March 20)
By Ninabella Arlis
Halloween is the time to get tricked or treated. Choose wisely, Pisces, otherwise you end up in a spooky place—both literally and figuratively. When figuring out who your boo is this cuffing season, it’s hard not to worry about getting ghosted. But if you’re just searching for the perfect partner for your ideal couple’s costume, take a moment to self-reflect and make sure you like them, not just that they like you. G
