The Stanford Daily M aga z ine
VOLUME II
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Issue 2
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OCTOBER 20, 2017
Coterm Life In school but off-campus; the transition to coterming can be complicated p. 14
CARDINAL SPORTS TRADITION p. 22
SOME NEWS IS GOOD NEWS p. 28
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The Stanford Daily
Contents
MAGAZINE
Volume II, Issue 2 October 20, 2017
OPINIONS 04 WHAT EVEN IS FACEBOOK Many companies have obvious motives, but Facebook is a bit more complicated. 28 SOME NEWS IS GOOD NEWS Courtney Cooperman argues for optimism despite political struggles during the Trump administration. 8 WOMEN’s basketball After a strong last season and a solid group of graduating players, women’s basketball has big shoes to fill. Seniors Brittanny McPhee and Kaylee Johnson seem up for the challenge.
HUMOR 06 RATING THE MASCOTS Your guide to the Pac-12 Cuties from Former Tree Sam Weyen.
SPORTS 22 TRADITION OF EXCELLENCE Michael Spelfogel provides guidance to new Cardinal sports fans.
ARTS
the grinD
10 ETHICS OF LISTENING Jacob Kupperman argues against separating art SPORTS from artist.
20 INSTA LANDMARKS
26 ‘ALIEBN’ Jonny Sun’s recent graphic novel explores themes of alienation and loneliness, and Alli Cruz is here for it.
Georgina Grant explores modern triumphs of the aesthetically pleasing.
NEWS
Creative
14 COTERM LIFE
30 POETRY
In school but off-campus; the transition to coterming life isn’t always an easy one. Fan Liu explores the benefits and the challenges.
Poems submitted by guest author Kimiko Hirota.
On the cover: CS coterm Cody Kala moves in. Photo by Andrew Solano STAFF: Editor-in-Chief Ada Statler-Throckmorton Executive Editor Samantha Wong Managing Editors Hannah Knowles, Fangzhou Liu, Sydney Shaw, Jose Saldana, Olivia Popp, Elizabeth Gerson, Stephanie Chen, Georgina Grant, Robert Shi, Michael Spencer, Janet Liu LAYOUT Joshua Wagner, Jacob Reiter, Janet Liu CHIEF OPERATING OFFICER Do-Hyoung Park Chief Revenue Officer Kevin Martinez 3
KRISTEL BUGAYONG/ The Stanford Daily
W
hat exactly is it that Facebook does? According to its mission statement, a set of platitudes essential for almost any technology company, it wants to “give people the power to build community and bring the world closer together.” Somehow, this quest has led from a Harvard dorm room to becoming one of the most valuable companies in the world. Perhaps Facebook’s growth represents something significant about humanity, that we really do just want to connect with one another. On the other hand, maybe it represents something less wholesome. For some companies, it’s more apparent what drives their valuations: ExxonMobil owns swathes of land, and, more importantly, the oil and gas underneath it; Microsoft sells hardware, software and services; Apple holds the recipe for avarice dust, which it dutifully employs every fall to make millions of people buy new phones that they don’t truly need. Facebook is a different sort of company, one whose unearthly valuation comes from selling that rarest of commodities — you — through the medium of your time. And it’s worth so much money because it does that better than pretty much anyone else. In 2016, Facebook told the world that the average user spends 50 minutes per day on some combination of its main site, Instagram and its Messenger application
— keeping in mind that this figure doesn’t include the amount of time people use the Facebook-owned WhatsApp. That’s about the length of an average television show, and there’s no reason to think this figure will have decreased since then. Considering that the average person sleeps for something like eight hours a day, this means that about one-16th of waking, alert time is spent on Facebook each day. When you consider the fact that many people work or are otherwise occupied for another portion of the day, the proportion of their “free” time that people choose to spend on Facebook becomes even larger. And the more time we spend on Facebook, the more money Facebook makes. If you don’t believe me, let’s do a quick test. Open up your computer, go to Facebook and log in, and if you’re using an ad-blocker, turn it off. What do you see? For me, there were a pair of ads, off to the side of the news feed, and more as I scrolled. Out of the first eight things that Facebook chose to show me, two of them were ads, meaning that in my first few seconds on the website, I was looking at ads for a quarter of the time. The thing is that these two ads were what are known as “sponsored posts,” differentiated from friends’ posts only by the word “sponsored” written below the name of the company that’s paid for each ad. To make these advertisements more effective and to lessen the impression that they are in fact ads, Facebook will often display the fact that some of your friends “like” the group that’s paid for the advertisement — exploiting the network that you’ve built on the site to provide an even more effective system for selling you something. Selling these ads is how Facebook — a company with just over 20,000 employees — has made more than $3 billion in operating profit for the last three quarters. The reason why I mention these numbers is because they are unearthly. There’s really no precedent for the way that Facebook makes money. The closest analogues are other forms of media: newspapers, radio and television. Each of these also sells your attention to advertisers, and much like Facebook, they do it by placing things that advertisers have paid for either next to the things you want to consume, like the ads around the stories in a newspaper, or
acebook’s Billion Dollar Business: YOU 6
by Regan Pecjak
in between them, like the commercials in a television program. Historically though, buying advertisements has been a bit of a guessing game. A company that makes sausage-making equipment might take out an ad in Meatingplace, a trade journal for the meat industry, and feel assured that it would be seen by people in the market for such an item. But when your product has more broad appeal, what do you do? The answer until about the 1940s was not much. You could have a general idea of who read a publication or listened to a program on the radio, but nothing too useful. For instance, you couldn’t know if your advertisement was being heard by younger or older people, liberals or conservatives. The technology to change all this was invented by an MIT professor named Robert Elder and debuted in 1936. His device captured listening habits by marking on a scroll of paper when the radio was on and how long it was listened to. This may sound a little bit crude, but it was the first quantitative way to measure human attention — and thus how many people were hearing the advertisements companies were paying for. Arthur Nielsen recognized that this could forever change advertising and started a company, Nielsen, that paid people to use a version of the device to track their habits at home. Knowing what sort of people were listening to any given program allowed advertisers to know the audiences for each of their advertisements and to have a degree of choice in the audiences to whom they wanted to present them. What has allowed Facebook to become so profitable is its ability to present companies’ ads to precisely the type of people the advertiser wants them shown to. This allows Facebook to make, on average, just under $19 in advertising revenue for each and every user in the US and Canada. Worldwide, Facebook received $4.65 in advertising revenue for each user in the second quarter of 2017. This makes the statement on Facebook’s homepage — “It’s free and it always will be” — a little bit ironic. It’s in Facebook’s best interest to keep the service free and easy to sign up for, because each user allows it to make more money by selling their attention. Why is it that Facebook is able to target its ads so much better than just about anyone else? This is thanks to the sheer amount of data it possesses about you, both about your real life and your online one. For example, when you sign up for Facebook, you give them four valuable pieces of information: your real name, an email address or phone number, your birthday and
your gender. This information is only the start of it — under the auspices of allowing you to share more about yourself, Facebook collects even more data about you. A photo, so they know what you look like, and whatever information you choose to share to build a profile: things like where you live, what your job is and what you like to do for fun. These are simple, valuable things which allow Facebook to build up an idea of the sort of person you are and the kind of things you might be willing to buy. If you like the pages of celebrities or brands, so much the better, because that tells them more. Have you ever checked in somewhere? Or browsed Facebook on public Wi-Fi somewhere? Excellent — Facebook now knows the sort of places where you like to eat, drink and shop. Every single thing allows for them to place you into more categories, which in turn allows them to peddle your attention to a greater variety of advertisers and make more money. The better their construction of you, the simpler it is to sell you. And by simpler, I don’t mean the way you’re looking at something on Amazon and then see it pop up in an advertisement in your Facebook news feed. That’s simple: Facebook can just buy your purchase and search history from Amazon. I mean the way Facebook can look at how effective its advertisements have been on other people with similar characteristics and base the ads it shows you off that. It’s really incredible, the amount of information we give Facebook for free and without thinking about it. The sheer amount of data they possess is matched only by government agencies like the NSA. Do you ever think about the fact that Facebook can recognize you? Suggesting tags for friends in your photos may seem benign, but every time you agree to one of them, it gives them more information about you and your network of friends. Do you think Facebook forgets about it if you decline the tag? Probably not — and with this representation of your face, it would be simple to find you in the background of other people’s photos, say, those of a tourist on the Quad, and add that information about where you were, at that moment, to the digital file of all your data that Facebook keeps stored somewhere on its servers, in triplicate, because these pieces of information are what allows it to keep its place as the prime avenue for advertising. More than that, it’s reasonable that Facebook can tell if you’re happy or sad from the way you use its apps: how long you attend to each story, the things you search for, the messages you send to your friends. There’s no reason why it couldn’t use this to tailor the
advertisements you see to how you feel. Let’s not forget: It’s already been shown that Facebook can influence the way you feel. A study published in 2014 by researchers from Cornell and the University of California showed that by altering the ratio of positive and negative content in the news feed, people’s moods away from the site could be affected too. This presents a particular issue because the site is meant to be addictive, to provide us with the best possible stimulation so we’ll keep coming back for more. Some of its techniques are blatant: We add a new friend or “like” something from a particular person, and then it seems that every time we log in, we’ll see something new from them. Or see a “friendversary” with a video that likely features random, unflattering photos of you and your friend. Despite the transparency of these methods of engagement, it’s impossible to know what myriad subtler things might be occurring underneath your notice to keep you coming back for more — and that’s what’s frightening. The problem of addiction moves from unfortunate-yet-benign to sinister when we see the stiff dichotomy between Facebook’s stated goals and its real ones. Facebook wants you to believe that its fundamental goal is connecting the world — maybe Zuckerberg even believes this himself — but this stands against its other goal, the necessary objective of any public company: to make phenomenal amounts of money. Because Facebook’s goal is ultimately to turn a profit, it benefits from collecting information about you and making its services more and more appealing so that you choose to give it an ever-greater piece of your attention. The more of your attention Facebook has, the more it can sell and the more money it makes. The news feed algorithm is the first weapon in this battle. It’s what you see every time you log in to the site, so naturally, it’s made to be addictive. What’s more frightening than the fact it’s meant to be addictive, though, is its inscrutability: For each user, from the outside, it’s impossible to deduce how it might be manipulating us. Add to this the incomprehensible amount of data about us that Facebook possesses, and it’s impossible to know how we might fall prey to its whims without realizing it. Contact Regan Pecjak at reganp@stanford. edu.
7
Definitive ranking of Pac-12 mascots by how much I wanna make out with them --Sam Weyen (and former Stanford Tree) #12: Utah’s Swoop. #11: Washington’s Harry the Husky
Things I don’t like: hybrids and racism. This half bird, half-mediocre football player is the mascot for the Utah Utes, a school that is technically still named after a Native American tribe. Yo, it’s 2017. Swoop has earned last place on my list of Pac-12 hotties. While the prospect of being fed by a large, angular beak does give me a small electric spike of arousal, Swoop’s feathers are a MAJOR turn off. Kissing Swoop would be like getting smothered by a dozen uniquely-stained pillows from Costo.
Status: Would Not Kiss
Normally, I’d be all over a macho mutt that wants to… get husky with me… but I’m a little disturbed by this mascot’s name. Harry? Is that code for Furry? I’m into some weird shit—like dresslike-Bill-Clinton-foreplay kind of weird, but I’m no Furry. Sorry, Harry.
#10: Cal’s Oski
I think I already made out with Oski once when I was a lot younger? I’ll just throw him on the list here.
Status: Hit it and Definitely Quit It
Status: Would Not Kiss #8: ASU’s Sparky the Sun Devil
#7: Stanford’s Tree
#9: UCLA’s Joe Bruin
Joe is a burly, beautiful bear (BBB), and I would love to push my face hole tightly up to his. He has a deep chocolate complexion, a cute coal-black nose, and you know what they say about big paws ;)
Status: I’d Totally Do Him. Like At Least Second Base. 6
A giant log? Yes please. Is the devil into BDSM? I’d bet on it. Bring on that sunburn!!!
Status: 50 Shades Of Grey
Status: I’m Yellin’ Timber (And Oh God!)
As a scientist and a football fan, I am always looking for sports teams to discuss and rank. As a puberty-stricken, kissing-machine I am also always looking for things to sloppily push my lips against. With that in mind, here is my definitive ranking of mascots in the Pac-12 with whom I want to swap spit with. (All photos courtesy of Wikimedia Commons) #6: Arizona’s Wilbur and Wilma Wildcat
These two come from one of the top party schools in the country, so they know their way around a makeout sesh. Can anyone say threesome? I’m not sure I can in this sort of publication. Man, I should’ve really opted for a pseudonym.
#5: Colorado’s Ralphie the Buffalo
Five words: Look at those prodigious horns (!!!)
Status: Would Ride To Extinction
Status: Get Your Head In The Game #3: U$C’s Tommy the Trojan
There’s something comforting about a mascot named after a contraceptive. Valuing both sex-positivity and consentculture tremendously, I see Tommy as a refreshing breath of fresh air that I’d love to ceremoniously smoosh my lips up against. Sure, there’s the issue that Tommy looks like sculpture chiseled out of Kappa Sig hyper-masculinity, and the issue that Trojan warriors never wore Corinth helmets… but I’ll excuse that for now. Have you SEEN his SWORD?
Status: 12-Pack Already In The Mail
#4: Oregon’s Puddles the Duck
Now we’re getting somewhere. Gone are crooked beaks and mouths like caves populated with stalagmites: it’s Puddles the friggin Duck. Look at that smooth, sensual bill moist with aquatic adventure. Look at his lack of pants, the tightly wound scarf that beckons “pull me closer.” Plus that the petit sailor’s hat is dope, where did he get it?
Status: 10/10 Would Duck Again #2: Washington State’s Butch T. Cougar
Often found at the Rosewood on Tuesday nights, Butch T. Cougar is a passionate lover that—I mean I’m just going off the name here but I assume—seeks the company of younger women. Do you feel your heartbeat quickening? I do, but that’s probably just because I shotgunned a Doctor Pepper on a dare. Regardless, Butch, let’s get freaky.
Status: Welcome To The Jungle
#1: Oregon State’s Benny the Beaver
No animal can compare to the sheer sex this creature exudes. Look at Benny. His tail flapping up and down. Those two buck teeth, white and shimmering like marble monuments at twilight. That football shaped head compensating for the lack of football acumen his team possessed. Those meaty mitts erupting in dark brown hair. The curves, the shapes, the ferocity, the mystery, the mystique. Cardinal nation is great, but I’ll take Beaver Nation any day of the year.
Status: HOT DAM
7
by Alexandre Bucquet
Seniors stepping up 8
Every year a collegiate team is bound to lose some of its best players to graduation or to the professional league -- if not both. Conforming to the rule, Stanford women’s basketball said goodbye to class of 2017’ Erica McCall, Briana Roberson and Karlie Samuelson at the end of the team’s 13th Final Four appearance.
Renewing with Final Four play for the first time since 2014, the Cardinal women brought Stanford chills during their playoff run, climaxing with McCall’s game saving block with less than two seconds left on the clock against Notre-Dame during the team’s final win of the season in the Elite 8. Now, with McCall drafted 17th in the 2017 WNBA Draft by the Indiana Fever, and Roberson and Samuelson electing to play professional ball overseas in Hungary and Italy, respectively, the team needs to once again re-adjust.
BOB DREBIN/isiphotos.com Most likely to emerge as leaders are senior guard Brittany McPhee and senior forward Kaylee Johnson. Last season, after missing 10 games due to a foot injury, co-captain Johnson still managed to shoot 40.2% from the floor while recording three games with more than ten rebounds. This season, we should see Johnson take the place of McCall as the team’s go-to player in the post, where she will be helped by junior forward Alanna Smith. Dropping more than 20 points seven times throughout last season, McPhee was the team’s second best scorer, behind McCall, and led the team during the ‘Big Dance’ with 16.8 points a game thanks to 44.4% shooting from downtown. Her efforts were rewarded by an All-Pac 12 and Lexington Regional AllTournament nomination. After a successful summer campaign with USA’s U23 national team, McPhee seems ready to step up her game one more time for her final season on the Farm. Starting the point guard spot, we should see junior Marta Sniezek. During her sophomore season, Sniezek improved her game vision as she ranked seventh in assists and ninth in assist to turnover ratio (1.82) among Pac-12 players. Fellow junior Alanna Smith might also be a starter this season, after an impressive NCAA campaign last year and a silver medal at the FIBA Asia Cup with Australia’s senior National team this summer. After being named to the Pac-12 All-Tournament team last year, the Australian forward went on to rack up 15.4
points on 52.5 percent shooting, 8.8 rebounds and 2.4 blocks in five NCAA Tournament games. “She’s really coming into her own,” Head Coach Tara VanDerveer said of Smith. “She’s playing with a lot of confidence, and she gives us another big body in there that has experience. She can stretch defenses with her 3-point shot. She rebounds, runs the floor.” The team’s incoming freshman class should not be left out of the mix, as the four new recruits are coming off consistent performance during their final high school year. Guard Alyssa Jerome, from Toronto, Canada, will join the Cardinal with international experience after playing for both Canada’s U19 and senior teams. While all this travelling meant no summer school or practices with the Cardinal for Jerome, associate coach Kate Paye is excited about the Cardinal’s new guard: “She is a skilled offensive player and is very versatile,” she said. “She can play facing the basket with her perimeter shot, she can post up in the paint and is a good rebounder with long arms.” Stanford secured another sharp shooter in 6’1 forward Estella Moschkau. Despite her size, the Wisconsin native shot 34.6% from beyond the arc last season, and her size makes her shots really hard to defend. Her 18.6 points per game combined with 2.6 blocks per game earned her the Gatorade player of the year award during her final high school season.
“She has an unbelievable work ethic,” Edgewood High School coach Lora Staveness said. “Estella is able to play all five positions on the floor. Her versatility makes her a matchup problem.” Other Stanford incoming freshmen Kiana Williams and Maya Dodson were also lauded multiple times before leaving high school, being named to the 10-person 2017 WBCA High School Coaches’ All-America team and the 2017 Naismith High School Girls’ All-America teams in back to back nights last spring. They placed Stanford as one of three schools to have two signees named in the WBCA High School Coaches’ All-America team, and are the first Cardinal pair of recruits to be selected since -- you guessed it -- McCall and Samuelson in 2013. In short, the Cardinal women will next season still have a strong core of upperclassmen comprised of two seniors and four juniors. The strong performances from these six athletes will help the underclassmen develop as the team attempts to earn back-to-back Final Four appearances. Stanford women’s basketball opens the season at home when it hosts the UC San Diego Tritons on Nov 4 at 4:00pm. Contact Alexandre Bucquet at bucqueta@ stanford.edu
9
ON the IMPOSSIBILI
ART by Jacob Kuppermann
T
here is perhaps no story repeated more often in the annals of pop culture than that of the brilliant artist who is revealed to be a vile person. The only phenomenon that could possibly rival it in sheer pervasiveness is the chorus of voices that respond to any accusation of serious wrongdoing by an artist with the rejoinder that we must “separate the art from the artist.” Whether it’s being used to defend Caravaggio, Woody Allen or Nate Parker, the idea that we must not abandon works of art solely because of the misdeeds of their creators is a popular one. It’s an appealing concept — I wish I was able to listen to David Bowie without feeling a twinge of guilt after finding out about his coke-fueled fascism-endorsing statements and the stories about his alleged statutory rape of a teenage groupie in the 1970s — and does have some validity. Listening to the Ronettes and 10
luxuriating in the Wall of Sound Phil Spector constructed on those records does not, of course, make you an apologist for his murder of Lana Clarkson. Yet the practice of separating the art from the artist is far murkier than the lofty ideal. The theory goes, according to its proponents, that the only thing that should matter when experiencing a work of art is what’s actually going on in the work itself. It doesn’t matter who made the work — the same painting painted by a black man and a white man deserve the same critical consideration and praise, and so on — merely the reaction one has to it. You don’t have to feel guilty about liking “Ignition (Remix)” because of who made it, though of course R. Kelly is a reprehensible man. I agree that personal guilt is not a useful part of the work of critically assessing artists who have done reprehensible things, but the idea that a work must only be evaluated based on its direct content is trickier. For as much as we like to imagine art as something higher, something beyond the petty concerns of this world, in reality every work of art is deeply imbued with a number of outside influences, from the geopolitical situation of the world to the sordid personal details of an artist’s life. The artists themselves don’t separate themselves from their work, so a criti-
FRO cal approach that refuses to consider outside factors is limited and foolish, blinding us from a full consideration of any creative work. Of course the focus of any analysis of a piece pop culture must be on what’s actually in the work, but “what’s in the work” is never as limited a category as those who want to separate artist from art want to believe. In modern pop culture, persona and identity so deeply intermingle with art that the artist themselves often becomes impossible to fully disentangle from their art. Consider the films of Woody Allen. The protagonists of movies like “Crimes and Misdemeanors,” “Annie Hall” and “Manhattan,” in all of their neuroticism and sexual dysfunction, are less characters and more proxies for the director himself, who plays all three. To appreciate one of these films while simultaneously remaining aware of the molestation accusations against Allen is an exercise in cognitive dissonance — it’s hard to enjoy characters written and portrayed by Woody Allen who share obvious resemblance with the man when you’ve read Dylan Farrow’s accusations against her adoptive father. While Allen’s case is an extreme one — most actors, for example, accused of wrongdoing do not play themselves to nearly the same extent as Allen — every creative work is inherently the unique
LITY of SEPARATING
ROM
ARTIST
product of the person (or persons) who made it. The same mind that pioneered the depiction of Black Middle Class families on primetime television through “The Cosby Show” also conspired to sexually assault over 60 women. There are not two Bill Cosbys, two Woody Allens, two R. Kellys or two Mel Gibsons — the personal elements of their crafts are powered by the same people who have done despicable things. This ever-present blurring of the lines between the personal and creative spheres is even more pronounced in the world of music and especially in internet culture. Where fans of Woody Allen can at least claim plausibly that Max Singer from “Annie Hall” is something distinct from Woody Allen the person, and that appreciating the fictional characters is far enough away from appreciating the real person who made them, a more tenuous barrier exists for music fans. All music performers put up a persona different than their true self, but aside from obvious cases like the face-painted theatrical rock of KISS or the cartoon depictions used by Gorrilaz, these personas generally claim authenticity. Rap, punk, and country artists place an especially heavy focus on this authenticity — claiming a rapper, for example, does not have as real a background in crime or gang life than he claims, is a serious accusation,
and rappers like Rick Ross have been dogged by such accusations for major parts of their careers. The intermingling of musical popularity and mainstream celebrity further contributes to the difficulty of separating a musician’s performed work, their public persona and their true self. The celebrity musician (and most musicians you know are celebrities of some scene or another) sells two cultural products. The first is their songs, but the second is their persona. This persona, the carefully crafted identity of a pop singer like Lady Gaga or a rapper like Drake, is as much a work of art as any of their individual songs. In this case, then, the misdeeds of the artist inherently affect their art. The loverman personae of Chris Brown and R. Kelly are rendered unconvincing, ineffective craft by the revelations that they, respectively, assault and molest women in their private lives. More generally, fans of a musician want to be able to like the object of their fandom, to imagine them as a sort of far off friend or ally — this is especially true of celebrities that champion social causes relevant to their fanbase. In the case of Brooklyn-based glam punk group PWR BTTM, who actually played a show at Stanford co-op Kairos in February, this penchant for social activism made the accusations of serial sex-
ual assault against guitarist Ben Hopkins all the more shocking and the reaction against them in the punk and indie rock community even more forceful in its punishment. The allegations against Hopkins are horrifying, tracing a years-long pattern of predatory behaviors, and they essentially ruined the message of compassion and radical queer acceptance cultivated by the band’s art. Yet these arguments are all ultimately based around subjective critical assessments of an artist’s work. Maybe the dissonance felt from watching “The Cosby Show” or listening to Chris Brown doesn’t bring you out of the art as much as it does for others. Beyond these artistic considerations, though, there are less ambiguous material reasons to refuse to separate the art and artist in all cases. The fact of the matter is, in our capitalistic, fame-obsessed culture, being a critically or commercially successful artist gains you a significant amount of influence. This influence, when in the hands of certain unfortunate individuals, can be leveraged to do harm to others. The case of R. Kelly is perhaps the most illustrative in this matter. At nearly every stage of his career, R. Kelly’s fame, wealth and skill at songwriting have shielded him from conse11
quences for his long history of sexual predation. In 1998, amid scrutiny over his possibly sexual relationship with underage R&B singer Aaliyah, Kelly settled a separate allegation of statutory rape against him out of court for $250,000. In 2001, he settled (paying an undisclosed sum) to another accuser on similar charges. The Chicago Sun-Times’ Jim Rogatis received a tape claiming to depict R. Kelly engaging in sexual relations with and urinating on an underaged girl. A later police raid of Kelly’s Florida home uncovered more photographic evidence of his sexual relations with teenage girls. Yet despite the fairly obvious fact that it was R. Kelly in the video (even though he was one of the most recognizable musicians in the world in the mid 2000s, the singer’s main defense was simply claiming that it wasn’t him, which few outside the court believed), and repeated testimony that the girl depicted in the video was underaged at the time of its filming, R. Kelly suffered no legal consequences in either case due to mishandling of evidence and the reluctance of the girl involved to testify. And even through his legal battles and worrying statements, like when he responded to the journalist Touré asking if he had sexual interest in “teenage girls” with “When you say teenage, how old are you talking?” or his insistence on referring to himself as
the “Pied Piper of R&B,” Kelly’s fame and musical success remained constant — during the six years between the discovery of the sex tape and the singer’s acquittal, he released five platinumselling albums and 26 Top 40 singles. Only the most recent accusations against R. Kelly have caused him any real career trouble. In July of this year, Jim Rogatis published a 5000 word exposé in Buzzfeed detailing the “sex cult”-like arrangement the singer has had for nearly a decade. Young women, many of them aspiring singers who are lured into R. Kelly’s circle with promises of professional mentorship, are made to follow a strict code of conduct while living in properties owned by R. Kelly. The women must “ask for food” and “ask to go use the bathroom,” according to the singer’s former personal assistant, and Kelly reportedly controlled their appearances and sexual activities, playing the women off each other by instructing them to report on each other’s behavior. After Rogatis’ story spread through social media, R. Kelly cancelled four out of ten upcoming tour dates due to low ticket sales. Both parts of this story follow the twisted logic of the music industry’s implicit policy on sexual predators. R. Kelly was only able to
build his “sex cult” because of his fame — the girls around him willingly, at least at first, entered into relationships with him to pursue fame, only to be trapped in something much more sinister. On the other end, the (relatively minor) professional consequences suffered by R. Kelly are reflective of not only the gravity of these accusations but also the singer’s waning starpower — his most recent album, 2015’s “The Buffet,” is by far his worst selling release. Yet even a diminished Kelly is still a commanding figure in the industry — when Buzzfeed asked 43 of the singer’s former collaborators if they would work with him again in light of the allegations, none returned a response, and the only pop musician with any degree of relevance to condemn him was Chicago rapper Vic Mensa. In the music industry, it seems, abusers have nearly infinite leeway as long as they can still make a hit. The structure of the music industry itself, with its onerous contracts that often strip personal and creative control from artists, can be used as a tool of abuse. The ongoing legal battle between Kesha and mega-producer Dr. Luke is illustrative of this potential. Dr. Luke (real name Lukasz Gottwald), who has written and produced hits like Kelly Clarkson’s “Since
Woody Allen • Has directed over 40 movies, mostly comedies, and has recieved 24 Academy Award nomination, winning three
12
•
R. Kelly
• Accused of molesting his ex-partner Mia Farrow’s adopted daughter, Dylan, when Dylan was 7 in 1992
• Commercially successful R&B singer/songwriter, known for successful singles in late 90s and early 2000s
•
• No serious consequences, as the state dropped the charges in 1993 out of a desire to avoid further traumatizing Dylan Farrow.
• Accused of engaging in sexual relations with minors on multiple occasions, including a case in which the singer urinated on an underage girl. Also accused of holding women in a “sex cult”like environment
•
• No serious consequences for accusations of sexual predation against minors. “Sex Cult” accusations and declining ticket sales caused him to cancel recent tour dates
U Been Gone” and Miley Cyrus’ “Party in the U.S.A,” groomed Kesha for stardom for 4 years before she achieved fame with 2009’s “Tik Tok.” Kesha alleges that throughout that period, from her signing with Gottwald’s production companies in 2005 to the aftermath of the release of her sophomore album “Warrior” in 2013, Gottwald abused her in a variety of ways, from the psychological to the sexual. The most striking claim alleges that Gottwald drugged her and raped her in 2005. Many of Kesha’s claims have been dropped or stymied in the courts, and the overall fate of Kesha’s relationship with Dr. Luke founded label Kemosabe records is murky. Yet despite the legal ambiguities of the case, the evidence revealed, including a set of emails from Gottwald on Kesha, paints a picture of Dr. Luke as an emotional abuser fueled by the cold financial logic of the music industry. Gottwald is shown to be controlling of Kesha’s diet and belittling of her creative intelligence, all the while justifying his statements as important parts of ensuring Kesha’s professional success. Gottwald’s logic, couching abuse in purely professional considerations, is mirrored by the statements of the New York Supreme Court, who denied Kesha’s injunction to leave her contract with Kemosabe and Sony because her contract was “typical for the indus-
try” and “the commercially reasonable thing.” Kesha has managed to salvage her career, once in limbo due to disputes relating to her lawsuits, but only through extreme effort. While her legal battle has reached a kind of impasse, with neither party willing to admit defeat, Kesha has won the battle of public opinion. Her fellow pop stars, including Taylor Swift, Lady Gaga, and Adele, have all come to support her cause, and her latest album, “Rainbow,” debuted at the top of the Billboard charts. The album is a triumph — its best songs, especially the ballads like “Praying,” which is fairly obviously about Dr. Luke,” are career highlights for Kesha and would be for any other singer. “Rainbow” covers many sounds, covering a wide swath of Americana, but the one thing it never sounds like is a Dr. Luke production. The success of “Rainbow” and the corresponding career downturn of Dr. Luke — he no longer runs Kemosabe records, and hasn’t released a top 10 single for more than two years — represent a sort of vindication for Kesha. But not every person abused by a powerful artist has the power or talent to fight back as Kesha has — greatness should not be the requirement for justice.
PWR BTTM • Queer Punk Indie Rock duo, acclaimed as “the Next Great Punk Rock Band” in music journalism in the lead up to their second album, “Pageant” • The week before “Pageant”’s release, guitarist Ben Hopkins was accused of predatory conduct, including sexual assault and rape. Drummer Live Bruce accused of covering up allegations • The band was dropped from thier label and “Pageant” remains unavailable for purchase or listening on any major platform.
Separating the art from the artist would be a perfectly sound critical school among many in an ideal world, one where the power dynamics and imbalances fueled by fame and industry influence did not exist, and were not vital tools used by sexual predators of all stripes. That is not the world we live in, though. The choices we make in media consumption matter in a certain material sense — playing an PWR BTTM song on Spotify or buying a Woody Allen movie on DVD literally funds them, and even modes of media consumption that don’t involve spending money still grants artists the influence and celebrity they can use to abuse others and evade consequence. This isn’t, strictly speaking, a moral matter — you aren’t a bad person for watching “Annie Hall” — but merely a matter of tracing cause and effect. By creating a culture that excuses the misdeeds of the powerful, talented or rich, we make it harder for their victims, from fellow celebrities to anonymous teenagers, to retain their dignity in society. Contact Jacob Kuppermann at jkupperm@ stanford.edu.
Dr. Luke • Pop producer and executive, known for writing hits like Kelly Clarkson’s “Since U Been Gone.” Ran Kemosabe Records, with notable signee pop singer Kesha • Accused by Kesha of sexual assault and a long term pattern of verbal and mental abuse which led the singer into checking into rehab in 2014 • Outcome uncertain: legal battle with Kesha lasting from 2014 to 2017 currently on standstill. No longer produces for major pop stars due to accusations 13
In school but off-
Navigating the coterm transition
F
or hundreds of graduating seniors each year, choosing to pursue a coterminal degree — a “coterm” — will grant them a yearlong reprieve from the world outside the Stanford bubble. These students earn a master’s degree that they may work towards while completing their bachelor’s, easing the shift to graduate studies and the associated financial costs. Yet the transition from undergraduate to graduate life is hardly seamless. Coterms who take an extra year at Stanford report taking on greater responsibility for all areas of their lives, from their courses of study to their housing. The social experience is also vastly different — while 97 percent of undergraduates live in on-campus housing that fuses their academic and residential lives, most coterms live off-campus in more independent and decentralized social environments. Camille Townshend ’17 M.S. ’18 remarked that the maturity demanded by the coterm experience made the campus services she got used to as an undergraduate seem like “coddling” in comparison. “It’s a completely different game,” Townshend said.
14
Reliving the admissions process The differences begin with the admissions process itself. As undergraduates, Stanford students simply declare a major without an application form or GPA cutoffs. However, prospective coterms must apply to specific programs run by different departments, with admissions rates varying from around 40 percent for Modern Thought & Literature to 75 percent for Computer Science. “For graduate school admissions, a narrow focus is preferred,” said Paula Aguilar, academic advisor and coordinator of coterminal advising with Undergraduate Advising and Research (UAR). “They want to see how you are prepared to be successful rather than looking at an applicant more holistically, as is the case for undergraduate admissions.” Some programs such as Management Science & Engineering (MS&E) and Communications also pit Stanford undergraduates against a pool of external applicants, with students from other undergraduate institutions making up two-thirds of the current MS&E cohort. Nor are the standards for admission the same for every program. According to Katrin Wheeler, student services manager in Communications, the program in media studies — one of two
options in the Communications coterm — typically admits all students who find a faculty advisor before applying. Meanwhile, the computer science (CS) admissions process takes GPA in previous CS classes into consideration, alongside other criteria. While coterm degrees can be attractive for the chance to develop skills in an area outside one’s undergraduate major — in the sociology department, for instance, 60 percent of the coterms came from different majors such as human biology, education and economics — students must often rely on research and networking to discover different programs. Josh Lappen ’17 M.S. ’18, who is pursuing a master’s in the Civil & Environmental Engineering (CEE) department after finishing an undergraduate degree in classics, said that he only found out about his program through word-of-mouth. “It’s key to know professors and talk to them — that’s the only way to find out about things,” Lappen said. For certain programs, the application process may also be tougher for students in different undergraduate departments. As a physics major, Cody Kala ’17 M.S. ’18 had to apply again after an unsuccessful first attempt to gain admission to the CS coterm. Since he had only taken four computer science
-campus:
on
by Fan Liu
classes and had a narrower range of relevant experiences to draw on in his personal statement, he feared that his chances were slim. “Since I had few connections to the CS department it was difficult to get letters of recommendations from CS professors,” Kala said. “Of the three letters I needed for the application, only one came from a CS professor.” Aguilar, whose position as coterm advising coordinator was newly created in the 2016-2017 academic year,
commented that UAR is seeking to centralize coterm advising. “Coterms are still advised to seek help from their undergraduate department,” Aguilar said. “In the future, we’d like to view coterming more as an University effort to avoid any challenges coterms may face and also to create more programming.” Money matters Once they find the right program, cost and convenience are powerful
motivators for prospective coterms. Lily Zheng ’17 M.A. ’18, a psychology major and sociology coterm expected to graduate this year, said the fact that she could do a significant amount of coterm curriculum during her undergraduate career meant she only paid about $10,000 for an extra quarter to get a master’s degree in a different field. Yet many coterm students still feel the financial strain of a master’s degree. While coterming at Stanford can be cheaper than switching to another institution for a master’s program, coterms face greater pressure to cover the costs of their education on their own than they did as undergraduates. All U.S. undergraduates at Stanford receive need-based financial aid, but coterms are no longer eligible for the Stanford scholarship that supports undergraduates. If they require financial assistance, their only options are to take graduate student loans or to seek funding from their own departments — a difficult process since coterms are not eligible for most graduate grants and fellowships. Only a few departments offer aid programs that are open to coterms, such as the Engineering Coterminal Fellowship offered by the Dean of Engineering 15
Biggest Admitted Cohorts Computer Science * Management Science & Engineering * Mechanical Engineering * Electrical Engineering * Earth Systems MS (School of Earth, Energy, and Environment) Communication (School of Humanities and Sciences) Civil & Environmental Engineering * Community Health & Prevention Research (School of Medicine) Earth Systems MA (School of Earth, Energy, and Environment) Biology (School of Humanities and Sciences) (*) indicates School of Engineering programs Office or the partial tuition support program for journalism M.A. students in Communications. To finance their degrees, many coterm students seek teaching assistant (TA) and research assistant (RA) positions on top of their master’s program coursework. But the availability of TAships for coterms varies across departments — History, for instance, allows only Ph.D. students to hold TA positions that contribute to the cost of their education. Aguilar noted that the absence of a consolidated list of all graduate assistantships is also a major obstacle for coterm students, especially since many of them seek two smaller assistantships across different departments. Students who successfully obtain TA positions must also cope with the extra workload on top of their regular coursework. Danny Wright ’17 M.S. ’18 served as teaching assistant for CS 16
154 and CS 161 in separate quarters, with each course adding an average of 20 hours per week to his workload as a computer science coterm. “I think it’s pretty worth it with interactions with students and seeing people’s process of learning and getting things,” Wright said. “It was worth it for me.” For students who do not take up TAships or RAships, financial planning looms large. Zheng was careful not to enroll in any more classes beyond winter quarter to avoid paying more tuition fees. While the $10,000 cost of taking one extra quarter made coterming at Stanford cheaper than other master’s degrees she considered, she said that completing the coterm degree over more than one quarter would be “devastating” for her financially. Kala, who had to take loans from the Financial Aid Office to pay for
his coterm degree, was also struck by the change from the generous needbased packages he received as an undergraduate. “From this point onwards I’m really on my own financially,” said Kala. “It’s a bit scary to think about, but now I look at it as taking my life into my own hands, and so at the time it also feels empowering.” Housing crunch Another aspect of the transition to graduate life is physical: Coterms lose priority for on-campus housing after using their four-year undergraduate housing guarantee, which means that most of them must move off-campus. As of Sept. 20, 86 coterm students staying beyond their fourth year were assigned housing in the 2017-2018 academic year out of 281 coterminal students who applied. Most coterm students seek off-campus housing as a
ANDREW SOLANO/The Stanford Daily
“From this point onwards I’m really on my own financially. It’s a bit scary to think about, but now I look at it as taking my life into my own hands, and so at the time it also feels empowering.” -Cody Kala 17
Campus Health Service Fee Books and Supplies $210 Transportation $420 Personal Expenses $1340
Cardinal Care Health Insurance $1656
$510
Tuition* $11,310
Food $1960
THE COTERM BUDGET TOTAL: $22,156
Rent $4750
*(for graduate engineering, assumes 8, 9, 10 units per quarter) result, whether with help from R&DE or on their own. Once coterm students take a fifth year, they are considered returning graduate students. Since demand for campus student housing exceeds supply, R&DE assigns graduate students different levels of priority when they enter the housing draw — coterms are given low priority compared to external master’s students, graduate students and undergraduates who are not familiar with Stanford or its environs, especially since one third of graduate students are international and are not familiar with the U.S. 18
Townshend found the priority for coterm students reasonable given that other graduate students might be entirely new to the area. “Coterms have been in this area for usually four years, so we’re probably the best people or the most adapted people to be put in this situation,” she said. R&DE offers some off-campus housing in the draw, but coterms often choose to search for housing closer to campus than R&DE-owned housing — a process that can be especially tough for students. According to Lappen, landlords
in the Palo Alto area often preferred families who could sign multi-year leases and take better care of their living environments than the stereotypical student. In addition, the housing crunch in the area means that off-campus options are extremely competitive to begin with. The house that Townshend eventually found saw at least 20 other applicants, forcing her and her partner to strategize to persuade the landlord. “We wrote them this love letter, talked about how responsible we were and all sorts of absurd things,” Townshend recalled. “[There were] lots of hoops and
jumps you went through to get a decent place near campus.” While the R&DE-sponsored Community Housing office also offers a Stanford affiliates-only rental listing service in partnership with Places4Students — a service publicized on R&DE webpages and its graduate housing brochure, which is circulated to students via email — both Townshend and Lappen said they did not know about the listing service and relied on their own research throughout the process. Despite the challenges, students welcomed the process of securing housing and taking charge of day-to-day chores with their housemates as a step towards independence. “That’s fine, and that’s what the rest of life is like,” Lappen said. Leaving the nest For many coterms, living off campus after most of their graduating class has left altogether radically alters the social experience. “It’s just a difference of scale — by senior year you just know so many people that the act of being on campus is very familiar,” Lappen said. “[My coterm year] will probably feel a little more like freshman year in that way just because there are so many fewer people I know on a day-to-day basis.” Greater independence and detachment from campus social activities have proven refreshing for some students. Amy King ’16 M.S. ’17 said that her choice to live off-campus in her coterm year allowed her to separate academic life from residential life, a sharp contrast from her undergraduate years. “Moving off campus and living a few blocks away inherently makes campus feel more like school and less like a home,” King said. “The urgency to be involved in every event also diminishes, so I ended up spending my free time with more intention and travelling more on the weekends.”
Living independently also means more time spent on domestic tasks in addition to schoolwork and student activities — a pleasant novelty for some. “We’ve spent this past week hunting for furniture and assembling stuff,” Lappen said. “It’s been a lot of fun.” But for other students, the transition from the undergraduate community to graduate student life still evokes the occasional sense of nostalgia. Katie Bick ’16 M.S ’17, who chose to live offcampus to prevent her coterm year from feeling like an “extended senior year,” felt the difference keenly. “Every time I biked past East Campus, I felt sad and nostalgic,” Bick said. Some coterms also believed that living apart from other graduate students in their department made it difficult to build academic community, detracting from their experience as students. “Part of why I’m excited to do a master’s is to meet all of those people coming to Stanford who haven’t been there before,” Townshend said. “It’s isolating and alienating to not be able to live in the same space as those people.” Townshend said that the events organized by her department — Mechanical Engineering — are mainly informational or academic sessions that do not encourage casual socializing. Size also makes a difference when it comes to a sense of community. Zheng said the fact that there were only two or three other coterms in the Sociology program, coupled with a lack of social events, made for a lonely academic experience. “Coterms don’t really socialize with each other, so it seems that we are completing a degree by ourselves,” Zheng said. “There is not much community support.” Some students in other departments were able to build community around their academic goals, albeit to a limited degree. Bick appreciated that her fellow coterms as well as external graduate students in the Community Health and Prevention Research program
bonded through student-initiated group study sessions. Like many of her fellow coterms, living off-campus prevented Bick from staying to socialize for long, but she said her cohort “felt way more of a community than [she] thought it would.” Student groups, new housemates and mutual friends also help coterms to rebuild their social experience after their undergraduate communities disperse. Bick fondly recalled a student-organized coterm election party she attended during the 2016 presidential elections, but she laughed at the idea of attending undergraduate all-campus parties. As with finances and housing, coterm students reported taking more responsibility for their personal relationships than they did as undergraduates. Andrew Lee ’17 M.S. ’18 said he thinks that coterm students make the social transition to life after graduation more easily than students who must start afresh in a new city — provided that they take the initiative to build and maintain friendships. “Luckily as a coterm here you already have established roots here, so it’s not as difficult to have social engagement but it takes a lot more effort,” Lee said. On balance, coterm students said they felt less reliant on the University’s resources and less connected to the campus community than undergraduates. “When you’re getting your bachelor’s, you’re here for the experience; as a coterm it really feels like I’m just getting a degree,” said Zheng, who works a nine-to-five job in addition to her studies. But the degree aside, the rest of their time is in their hands — a prospect that can be exhilarating. Fangzhou Liu contributed reporting to this article. Contact Fan Liu at fliu6@stanford. edu. 19
Modern Landmarks: The Triumph of the Aesthetically Pleasing By Georgia Grant
O
n a typical sunny day in Los Angeles, you might notice an abnormally large group of people flocking to an otherwise average parking lot just off Melrose Avenue, a popular shopping destination. Tourists and locals alike line up along the side wall of a Paul Smith retail store, iPhones in hand and faces photo-ready. A sign prohibits the use of DSLR cameras, and a security guard makes sure that things don’t get out of hand.
sands of users. Visitors kiss, jump, dance, make hand shadows, and drink colorful Starbucks beverages in front of the wall, posting proof of their photo shoots with the Paul Smith store’s geotag on Instagram. Ironically, the British designer’s logo, which is featured on the upper right corner of the wall, is frequently excluded from photos, and most of the store’s Yelp page is dedicated to reviews of the wall itself, rather than the quality of the clothes or the customer service inside.
When it’s finally their turn, each group tries out several different poses, tests various camera filters, and brainstorms captions aloud, before posting at least one of their photos to Instagram and opening up a spot for the next cluster of friends in line. While this might sound like the scene of a well-timed celebrity sighting, the target of each picture is neither a movie star nor a view of the Hollywood sign. It’s a wall. A plain pink wall.
Obviously, this isn’t the first time that a wall has captured the world’s attention, so what makes this one so popular? It lacks the physical and ideological division of the Berlin Wall or the incredible construction feat of the Great Wall of China. Even the lesser-known outdoor murals that decorate San Francisco tell a story and showcase the talents of the artist. While a historical, environmental, or architectural significance usually draws tourists to more traditional landmarks, this wall’s Pepto-Bismol color seems to be the basis of its appeal. “The Pink Wall”, as it has come to be known, is truly characterized by its two titular qualities: its pinkness and its wallness.
That plain pink wall has become an icon on social media, especially Instagram, where it has received its very own unofficial account, as well as a featured role in pictures from thou20
A traditional landmark, like the Empire State Building, is a wonder on its own. But ordinary sites can become modern landmarks by appealing to the personal aesthetic preferences of social media users, often through vibrant colors. Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons. In this golden age of social media, the success of a modern landmark is based on its power as a backdrop. It’s not so much the artwork or building or natural wonder itself, but how the viewer will look when posing in front of it. And it appears that bright colors and patterns provide the most aesthetically pleasing setting for a strategically staged selfie. The beauty of the pink wall lies in its lack of intricate decoration: you can stand anywhere and still receive the same vivid halo of color. Given the popularity of photo destinations like the pink wall, modern companies must keep the social media generation in mind when crafting marketing initiatives. For example, several recent color-focused projects in California seemed explicitly designed for Instagram users. The Museum of Ice Cream, which migrated from New York to Los Angeles and recently opened in San Francisco, offers
vibrant dessert-themed art installations and encourages both interaction and photography. Similarly, the “pop-up experience” Color Factory, which opened in San Francisco in August, charges visitors $35 to walk through two levels of colorful rooms and take advantage of the exhibit’s photo booth system. Both Bay Area attractions promoted the companies that sponsored them, and both are currently sold out. With the success of these colorful tourist destinations, one wonders how a popular site can earn the title of “landmark” or “icon”. Who has the power to deem a particular place worthy of the world’s attention: a national government? UNESCO? Social media users? The easiest answer would be the millions of tourists from around the world who seek out the same monuments year after year. Before social media, we recorded our visits to the Grand Canyon in family photo albums, and before that, perhaps via sketching and journaling; the popular appeal of journeying to already-famous destinations is nothing new. But in the past decade or so, we have gained
and refined the ability to immediately provide evidence of these voyages to friends and followers online, speeding up the word-of-mouth process that generates revenue from tourism. The Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco at sunset. Courtesy of Wikipedia. Additionally, visiting a national or regional landmark can lead to a feeling of inclusion. There’s a satisfaction in knowing that you too have driven across the Golden Gate Bridge or surveyed New York from atop the Empire State Building. When it comes to cultural significance, we invest a certain degree of trust in other people. If the masses overwhelmingly love a particular painting or building, we can approach the site with an optimistic faith in the rest of humanity’s ability to identify beauty or importance in the world around us. Obviously individual opinions differ, and certain well-known monuments are bound to feel underwhelming, but we can visit the Taj Mahal or Niagara Falls with the comfort of knowing that millions of people before us found the site worthy of a photo. These are experiences that citizens from around the world place on their
bucket lists, and a picture might be the best attempt we can make to capture those moments for future enjoyment. While photos of colorful walls haven’t completely eclipsed those of more traditional landmarks, the trend is on the rise. Any particularly vivid surface could be spotted and turned into an Instagram landmark over night, changing the dynamic of the area around it and drawing tourists to previously unfamiliar places. The line of people waiting to pose in front of the “pink wall” might seem over-the-top, but perhaps the experience is more than just a free backdrop for profile pictures. With every photo uploaded just outside the Paul Smith store, the user acknowledges the value of this particular site, encouraging followers to make the journey as well. It becomes a cultural pilgrimage, providing a strange sort of accomplishment to any who undergo the experience, no matter how unusual (and arguably unnecessary) that experience may be. Contact Georgina Grant at gagrant@stanford. edu. 21
Stanford Sports Traditions By Michael Spelfogel
Welcome to Stanford! Among many other benefits of being Cardinal, one that comes along with the elite academic honors of the institution is the University’s top rated athletics program. You might have heard that Stanford has won a record setting 22 consecutive Directors Cup’s, for the best collegiate athletic program. But take a moment to actually look at the wiki page, it’s staggering. While Stanford is known as one of the best worldwide research institutions for a variety of subject matters, its athletic program is also one of the best country. Here is a guide to the best sporting moments of the past four years, and some of the best ones to expect in the next year. 22
1
Date: November 18th, 2014. Sport: Women’s Basketball Opponent: #1 UConn Venue: Maples Pavilion Final Score: 88-86 (OT) Headline: “Women’s basketball avenges Final Four loss with upset of UConn.”
I remember this one like it was yesterday. With the clock winding down at the end of regulation, Lili Thomson hit a tying three pointer. That was a harbinger of things to come with an unstoppable performance in OT. That was my first court storm!
2
This was a sentimental victory for QB Kevin Hogan and the rest Date: November 26th, 2015. of the the football team. Konrad Sport: Football Ukropina kicked a game winOpponent: #4 Notre Dame ning field goal as time expired to Venue: Stanford Stadium come from behind and beat the Final Score: 38-36 Fighting Irish. I might have been Headline: “The New Big Game.” the first student to rush the field, but thousands of others followed in what was one of the most memorable nights in Stanford football history. Let’s just say that Katie Ledecky became the most famous Stanford student Date: August 22nd 2016. not to yet start school. The Sport: Olympics (all) Maryland native brought Opponent: the world five gold medals to the Venue: Rio De Janeiro, Brazil farm from Rio. Too bad she Final Score: 27 medals couldn’t put that on her Headline: “Stanford Olympians college application, as she bring home a record 27 medals.” was already admitted!
3
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4
Date: January 1st, 2016. Sport: Football Opponent: #5 Iowa Venue: Rose Bowl Final Score: 45-16 Headline: “Stanford annihilates Iowa in 102nd Rose Bowl with historic effort from McCaffrey.”
With all that glory in the past, here are the top sporting events to look forward this year:
Big Game
Stanford, Cal, Football, Thanksgiving break, a great time to beat our bitter rivals for an eighth consecutive year. 24 24
Stanford’s bowl tare continued into 2016, with Christian McCaffrey proving the Heisman haters wrong with a performance for the record books. The Cardinal quite literally ran the Hawkeyes out of state of California, it was that powerful a performance.
Another December run for Men’s soccer
The two time defending champs look to return to winning ways at Colgan Stadium. The team has lost only twice this season and is in a good position to make a run at the Pac-12, and national title.
5
Stanford has now Date: December 11th, won two consecutive 2016. national titles for the Sport: Mens Soccer first time in program Opponent: #2 Wake history. Led by senior Foster Langsdorf, the Forest team looks to achieve Venue: Houston, Texas an unprecedented 3rd Final Score: 5-4 consecutive title this (penalties) fall. Headline: “Stanford wins College Cup championship in penalty kicks.”
Women’s Basketball Domination
Stanford looks to return to a second consecutive Final Four. It’s team is stronger and ready to play, returning to Maples Pavilion soon.
Winter Olympics
The Winter Olympics kick off in South Korea this February. Stanford athletes will once again be a part of the most prestigious athletic competition in the world. If 2016 is any indicator, Stanford might out medal many small countries.
Men’s Basketball return to March Madness
It’s been a long four years since Stanford last graced the hardwood of college basketball’s preeminent tournament. With improvements and new recruits, Stanford could be well positioned for a run at the Pac-12 title as well as a return to March Madness.
25 25
It’s all
aliebn to me
T
his past June, when I went to Barnes & Noble to pick up Jonny Sun’s new book, ‘everyone’s a aliebn when ur a aliebn too,’ my interaction with the book clerk went a little something like this: “Hi, do you happen to carry the book, ‘everyone’s a aliebn when ur a aliebn too?’” “Sorry, could you repeat that?” “Oh, yeah, of course. It’s ‘everyone’s a aliebn when ur a aliebn too.’” “Oh, uh, sure.” “Except everything is misspelled.” “Pardon?” “So it’s alien. But with a b. And you’re, except spelled U-R. Oh, and the author’s name is Jonny Sun, but he goes by jomny sun. You know, like Jonny, but instead of a two ‘n’s,’ it’s an ‘m’ followed by an ‘n.’” And the book clerk, well, she looked at me as if I were “a aliebn.” For most of us, it’s not an altogether unfamiliar experience to feel like an alien, to feel a sense of, well, ‘unbelonging’ — a lack of togetherness. As a mental health awareness advocate who in the past has grappled with depression and anxiety, author Jonny Sun no stranger to feelings of loneliness and alienation. These feelings are, after all, what prompted him to write this book in the first place. Sun’s debut novel explores the world through the eyes of a young alien named jomny, who has been sent by his alien colleagues to research humans on earth. But instead of finding humans, jomny discovers some unlikely friends: an egg with a deepseated fear of hatching, a dog incapable of communicating his innermost thoughts and an elusive, shapeless character named
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by Alli Cruz Nothing. Through this strange amalgamation of characters, Sun uncovers universal truths about happiness, sorrow and the vagaries of the human experience, helping everyone — jomny, his friends, and even the readers themselves — feel a little less alien. The principal metaphor of the book — the alien as a literal manifestation of alienation — is simple, perhaps overt, but this is where the book succeeds. It is through Sun’s simplistic world-building that we begin to understand the complexities of our own world. For instance, Sun’s inclusion of the character, Nothing, is incredibly simple: an entity which embodies silence or fear of the unknown. Yet, Sun utilizes this rather elementary character in an accessible and thought-provoking way. For me, Nothing’s most memorable line is when the character talks about how “being afraid of death is the same as being afraid of nothing.” It is such a simple phrase, but it illuminates our fear of the deep, dark “unknown” in a straightforward, yet powerful manner. Sun encourages us to consider our greatest fears in the same way a child would and rationalizing them in the same way a child would in order to break these anxieties, as if helping us to dismantle our “adult” fears in a very forgiving and encouraging manner. Wherever there is a moment of poignancy or contemplation such as Nothing’s line regarding the fear of mortality, it is either preceded or undercut by Sun’s witty humor. For example, Nothing’s aforementioned mortality line comes after his first humorous meeting with jomny. Nothing, who at first takes the form of a ghost, brings forth jomny’s fear of dying and of being haunted. Jomny then shrieks upon seeing the ghost-Nothing, to which Nothing replies with “umm i literally experienced the horors of death so maybe this isnt abot you.”
Jonny Sun i
A page from Jonny Sun’s new book, ‘everyone’s a aliebn Sun’s adroit layering of hilarity and honesty allows him to explore darker themes of death and depression in a way that is somehow light, palatable and refreshing. ‘everyone’s a aliebn when ur a aliebn too’ is full of poignant one-liners from Nothing, jomny and the other creatures of Earth. However, the true power of Sun’s work originates not only from the lines themselves, but also from the way in which they are told. Fraught with calculated misspellings that often involve the insertion of the letter “b” — such as the titular use of “aliebn” — Sun’s book radiates childlike innocence and curiosity.
w
CHRISTOPHER SUN/University of Toronto
Sun is a scientist, artist and social media sensation.
n
when ur a aliebn too’. (Courtesy of Jonny Sun) At first glance, it almost seems as though a child has written and illustrated this book, what with the aforementioned misspellings and the rather rudimentary, almost crude, images — jomny himself constitutes a mere bean-shaped head and a tiny, rounded belly connected directly to his oval-shaped feet. But again, the genius is in Sun’s deceptive simplicity. ‘everyone’s a aliebn when ur a aliebn too’ is less of a graphic novel and more of an adult-length children’s book, and this format lends itself well to a unique storytelling experience — one which allows us as readers to reexamine our own lives through
a childlike worldview in a way that is unabashedly candid, compassionate and downright adorable. Sun’s ability to properly simplify the complex is perhaps a true testament to his intellect. As a playwright, whose works have been produced at the Yale School of Drama and Factory Theatre; an artist and illustrator, whose pieces have been showcased at MIT and the University of Toronto; as well as a comedy writer, engineer, designer, architect and doctoral student at MIT, Sun is no stranger to the worlds of art and academia. In fact, Sun’s involvement in and understanding of these worlds is what makes him so incredibly relatable, especially to students at Stanford. This is not to say that all Stanford students share the same breadth of experience and talent as Sun; I think we can all agree here that he is more of a fascinating anomaly than a norm or even an attainable standard. Sun’s relatable nature instead stems from his sensitivity to the academic and social pressures which pervade a great deal of youth culture today. The clever manner in which he is able to rationalize and at the same time poke fun at human fears and anxieties shared among youth is perhaps why Sun has amassed such a large audience on Twitter — now, at nearly half a million followers. From a college student’s perspective, the most relatable and salient characters are Sun’s egg and owl. Sun’s egg, who is on the one hand afraid of never hatching and on the other fearful that hatching may, in fact, be the greatest and most impossible to replicate moment of his life, communicates the anxieties of many young people today, who find the future to be both a terrifying
yet ‘egg-citing’ concept. The owl, on the other hand, represents an illness which Stanford students know all too well: impostor syndrome. My favorite line of owl’s reads: “...i don’t feel owly enough to be an owl,” a sentiment which has undoubtedly plagued the minds of many students at Stanford and beyond. Sun’s specific use of an owl, the physical manifestation of wisdom, is again a bit of a hackneyed metaphor, but for the purposes of this childlike book, it works unexpectedly well. Additionally, the concept of hiding behind one’s feathers highlights the mask we as burgeoning adults tend to put on as we trudge forth into the workforce and the academic world. In this unique and expertly crafted novel, Sun’s jomny explores an unfamiliar land, a land which eventually starts to feel like home. Similarly, Sun encourages us, through reading this book, to explore the unfamiliar parts of ourselves — the difficult parts that often go unnoticed, unspoken and unrealized — in order to feel less like aliens and more at home with ourselves. Contact Alli Cruz at allicruz@stanford.edu.
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Some news is good news by Courtney Cooperman
T
his summer, it became allconsuming to keep up with the news. Some stories — the short-lived White House career of Anthony Scaramucci, the word salad that Donald Trump presented at the Boy Scout Jamboree — were amusing, although still disturbing. Many more — white supremacist violence in Charlottesville, a slew of devastating natural disasters — were simply tragic and terrifying. Through reckless tweets and cruel executive actions, President Trump and his administration threatened millions of futures, including those of transgender service members actively safeguarding our freedoms and DREAMers embodying our long-celebrated American spirit. And beyond the daily jolts of breaking news, our country remains anxious about North Korea’s looming nuclear threat and Russian interference in our democracy. National and global events dictated the day-to-day schedule at my summer internship. I worked at the Jewish Council for Public Affairs, a nonpartisan organization that convenes, mobilizes and advocates on behalf of 16 national Jewish organizations and 125 local Jewish communities. We were constantly signing petitions, attending strategy calls, writing press releases and putting out action alerts. Sometimes it seemed like every headline rendered our planned daily agenda irrelevant and inhibited progress on our long-term goals. In the face of constant frustration, many of our initiatives still had tangible, positive outcomes. Despite the polarization pervading our country and the considerable diversity of opinion among Jewish communities, we reached consensus on a variety of issues and repeatedly stood together in defense of our core Jewish values. Most notably, we mobilized our constituency in the series of fights to maintain the Affordable Care Act, a crucial contributor to Jewish social service agencies that assist millions of low-income, disabled and elderly people in need. With every rash “repeal and replace” attempt, activists from countless constituencies came out in full force, flooded their legislators’ voicemails and narrowly thwarted disastrous policy decisions. Though we cheered each defeat of Trumpcare, we were so wrapped up in other high-priority issues that we didn’t have time to fully celebrate the successes to which we contributed in part. A few weeks after 28
the failure of the so-called “skinny repeal,” it struck one of my colleagues that we had never followed up with the thousands of people who signed our petition. As a small staff grappling with a chaotic world, we completely overlooked the opportunity to send a thank-you note or victory announcement. Preoccupied with the latest emerging crises, we barely had time to appreciate our hard-won achievement. In some ways, the high-pressure environment of Stanford is much like a busy nonprofit organization. As students who face a constant flow of challenging assignments and grapple with different obstacles every day, we often neglect to acknowledge our past successes. Those who let failures and ongoing challenges overshadow their progress will downplay their accomplishments and underestimate their own power to spur future change. Whether in political activism or everyday student life, we sustain momentum and fulfill our potential when we make the time to appreciate our strengths. In that spirit, I want to first highlight a handful of progressive victories and uplifting accomplishments from this summer. Since I focused on environmental issues and criminal justice reform during my summer internship, I enthusiastically followed key developments in these arenas over the past few months. Because of our federalist system, regression at the national level does not inhibit all progress. Many states and cities are stepping up to resist the Trump agenda. In addition to speaking out against the administration’s policies and supporting those most vulnerable, states are independently achieving progressive reforms in many areas, including the environment and the criminal justice system. In January, New Jersey adopted major bail reforms, effectively eliminating cash bail. The state now uses a holistic public safety assessment to determine whether a person must stay in pretrial detention, instead of freeing only those who are able to pay and jailing the rest. Under this system, thousands of people who pose no danger to society, but would have sat in jail simply because they could not afford bail, can remain in their communities while awaiting their trials. New Jersey’s innovative policy suggests that criminal justice reform does not threaten public safety: Violent crime between January and August was 16.7 percent lower than violent crime in the same period in 2016. Such notable progress will likely remain in the domain of the states, but the Senate
Judiciary Committee is seeking to revitalize bipartisan criminal justice reform efforts at the federal level. Senate Judiciary Committee chairman Chuck Grassley, Republican from Iowa, and Senator Dick Durbin, the Democratic minority whip from Illinois, confirmed that they will reintroduce the Sentencing Reform and Corrections Act, which would increase judicial discretion in sentencing, reduce sentences for some nonviolent drug offenders and expand reentry services for prisoners. While Trump continues to denounce the Paris Agreement and the Environmental Protection Agency works to roll back dozens of crucial regulations, California governor Jerry Brown is venturing into international climate diplomacy, showing that California will take on environmental leadership when the federal government refuses to do so. California’s commitment goes beyond rhetoric and diplomatic cooperation — the state recently renewed its signature cap-and-trade program, an ambitious market-based carbon emissions reduction scheme. (Congress narrowly failed to pass a national cap-andtrade system in 2009, despite initial bipartisan support.) Governors in the bipartisan U.S. Climate Alliance, which represents 14 states and 36 percent of the American population, reported in mid-September that they are on track to meet or exceed their portion of the U.S. commitment under the Paris accord. Meanwhile, the Administration’s environmental backwardness is an impetus to action for over 200 cities in the “We Are Still In” coalition, a group of public officials and private interests that remain committed to meeting our Paris goals. Without leadership from above, these cities are increasing their local efforts to cut emissions and improve resiliency, which will protect communities from some of the worst effects of a warming world. Although environmental protection still faces steep odds at the federal level, climate cooperation won a symbolic victory in the House of Representatives, within the House Bipartisan Climate Solutions Caucus. Often called the Noah’s Ark Caucus, the caucus accepts its members two-by-two — Republicans and Democrats must join in bipartisan pairs — and at the end of July, it reached its 50-member milestone. The ebb and flow of political power demonstrates how general indifference towards positive developments gives leverage to those who are especially dissatisfied with the status quo. In midterm elections,
the president’s political party often gets gratitude are not only useful for activists as “shellacked”; in fact, the party controlling the they seek to recharge for the next big political executive branch has lost at least a handful fight. Perhaps even more importantly, these of House and Senate seats in every year attitudes are crucial to Stanford students in except 1934 and 2002. The midterm elections their everyday lives. of 2010 embodied this trend: Many core As I think about my own disproportionate constituencies in the Obama coalition failed attention to obstacles and failure over success to show up to the polls, while Republicans and growth, a Billy Joel lyric from the song harnessed their frustration and flipped over “Vienna” comes to mind: “Though you can see 50 Democratic seats in the House. Those when you’re wrong, you know you can’t always who agreed with Obama’s direction for the see when you’re right.” When gazing inward, country organized themselves less effectively many of us gravitate toward our shortcomings than those who opposed it, undermining the and gloss over our successes. Just as I Democrats’ ability to translate their vision into admitted to unduly focusing on negative policy. political developments and the Stanford Pessimism motivates political engagement more powerfully than optimism. I am certainly guilty of focusing on the policies that I oppose and doing little to uplift those that I support. Although I would have been overjoyed with a Hillary Clinton presidency, I am certain that I would spend far less time following the administration if its actions generally reflected my values. Likewise, as a New Jersey resident, I tend to agree with my legislators’ votes, but only once or twice have I called to simply thank them for their efforts. National politics aside, the same phenomenon takes place at the institutional level. Last spring, I criticized the Haas Center and President TessierLavigne for aggressively silencing activists from Stanford Sanctuary Now at a celebration of student service. While I firmly stand KRISTEL BUGAYONG/The Stanford Daily by that disappointment, I recently realized that I should make more time administration’s shortcomings, I will admit to appreciate the Stanford administration’s to dwelling on disappointing midterm results proactive communication and institutional while shoving well-received papers somewhere support in the face of the travel ban and in my desk without more than a satisfied-yetDACA rollback. Although Stanford absolutely cursory review of the comments. must do more for its vulnerable community To fully appreciate our time at Stanford members, our administrators deserve and propel ourselves through its challenges, gratitude for their initial efforts. Expressing we must stop trivializing our day-to-day support for our administration’s stated triumphs. Job offers, leadership positions commitments, even when its concrete actions and high GPAs are not the only forms of fall short, may increase Stanford’s attention to success. Whether it’s a new insight picked up activists, inspire greater partnership and incite from a lecture, an impressive contribution to bolder action. a seminar or the satisfaction of completing When fighting an uphill battle, optimism an assignment, we accomplish so much by allows us to look over our shoulders simply going through our everyday Stanford and marvel at how far we’ve already routines. Our day-to-day tasks are filled with climbed. Commemorating our previous victories, even when they are not particularly accomplishments gives us a fuller perspective glamorous. Most importantly, we cannot on the significance of our efforts, motivating let our failures monopolize our attention us to work even harder. And positivity and spans. Our successes, rather than sitting
at the back of our desk drawers, should capture our attention for more than fleeting moments. When we take genuine pride in our educational processes and value our work for more than its sway over our GPAs, we will better recognize our own capabilities, empowering us to achieve even more. Even when gratitude initially slips through the cracks, our successes do not expire; it is never too late to draw inspiration from our proudest moments. The Jewish Council for Public Affairs, whose initial oversight sparked my reflection on optimism, ultimately recognized its opportunity and sent out a thank-you note to all who successfully protected health insurance through ongoing summer advocacy. The email highlights months of hard-won victories, galvanizes further activism in the months ahead and showcases the rewarding simplicity of putting appreciation at the forefront. On any scale, personal and political triumphs deserve more than lukewarm recognition. When we treat positive developments as quotidian, we give the spotlight to disappointment, chaos and catastrophe. On a national level, our relative indifference to good news creates a harmful feedback loop. The media capitalizes on our fascination with scandal and horror, people pay greater attention to distant threats than local progress, the general population feels disheartened at current affairs and political power shifts accordingly. While there is much to lament, to fear and to resist in 2017, we are blind to so many promising developments downplayed in our national narrative: peaceful demonstrations, regional progress on climate change, powerful displays of interfaith solidarity, bipartisan criminal justice reform initiatives. Ideally, we would not need to celebrate the proper functioning of democratic processes and the persistence of basic human decency, but in a trying year, we can all benefit from a little extra emphasis on optimism. Just as highlighting small-scale societal progress can encourage activists and catalyze further change, acknowledging even the littlest of Stanford victories can help us recognize our true potential and motivate us to fulfill it. Contact Courtney Cooperman at ccoop20@ stanford.edu.
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Kimiko Hirota
Kimiko Hirota
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