Issue 6 Fall 2018

TUFTS OBSERVER Outlets.

Vol. CXXV. Issue 6.

S TA F F EDITOR IN CHIEF: Emmett Pinsky MANAGING EDITOR: Alexandra Benjamin CREATIVE DIRECTOR: Erica Levy FEATURES EDITOR: Julia Press NEWS EDITORS: Cris Paulino Sasha Hulkower ARTS & CULTURE EDITORS: Sonya Bhatia Owen Cheung

Outlets: power, creative, emotional, electric, water, shopping...

OPINION EDITORS: Lena Novins-Montague Wilson Wong CAMPUS EDITORS: Myisha Majumder Anita Lam POETRY & PROSE EDITOR: Ruthie Block VOICES EDITOR: Kira Lauring WEB EDITOR: Juliana Vega del Castillo PHOTO DIRECTORS: Britt Abigail Barton ART DIRECTOR: Riva Dhamala MULTIMEDIA DIRECTOR: Evie Bellew Izzy Rosenbaum VIDEO DIRECTOR: Emai Lai

Ledito r 2

By Emmett Pinsky

new narratives 3 Feature | Anonymous

under review 6 Campus | By Alexandra Benjamin

Requiem for a meme 8 Arts & Culture | By Trina Sanyal

post-election blue s 10 Opinion | By Sara Barkouli

12 [

]

Poetry | By Emmett Pinsky

13 out of service Photo Inset

17 Rig ht... What’s All This Then?

Poetry | By Brette Lennon

18 Let’s Chat: Loving and Losing with Ariana Grande Arts & Culture | By Wilson Wong and Rosy Triggs Fitzgerald

21 Alexa, buy long island city News | By Kyle Lui

23 THL statement News | By Tufts Housing League

24 A call for native studies Opinion | By Parker Breza, Sung-Min Kim, Celeste Teng

26 reduction of culture Campus | By Eman Naseer

PODCAST TEAM: Kareal Amenumey Malaika Gabra PUBLICITY DIRECTORS: Nasrin Lin Daniel Jelčić STAFF WRITERS: Trina Sanyal Eman Naseer Jonathan Innocent Muna Mohamed DESIGNERS: Zahra Morgan Tyler Whitaker Richard Nakatsuka Helen Xie Yishu Huang Nick Golin Brigid Cawley LEAD COPY EDITOR: Jesse Ryan COPY EDITORS: Brittany Regas Rosy Triggs Ryan Albanesi Josie Wagner Sara Barkouli Aidan Schaffert EDITOR EMERITUS: Carissa Fleury CONTRIBUTORS: Bella Maharaj Stuart Montgomery Avi Block Will Mueller Eman Naseer Amy Tong Mirabel Sleiman

COVERS AND TOC

BY ERICA LEVY

28 Apparitions Pts I & II Voices | By Sylvester Bracey and Desmond Fonseca

PHOTOS BY BRITT

In my first letter, I told you that location always precedes content. That where you are makes who you are.

And we are all here, and this has been us.

And tonight will be my 84th Observer layout in the MAB Lab on the second floor of Curtis Hall. Seven semesters, six issues per semester, two nights of layout per issue… I think the math checks out. What I am saying is that Observer layout has—for hundreds of hours, apparently—been the where that has made the who that is me. And I’ve put off writing this letter because it is difficult to consider how much my life will change without the Observer. Tonight is, by all accounts, my first Last here at Tufts.

How do you say goodbye to a place that is pieces of paper? To rooms/words/walls that have watched you grow up?

I find myself feeling sweetness for the MAB Lab itself—for the broken desk and the blue plastic rolling chair that holds it up, for the keyboard with the broken shift key, for the dried-out whiteboard pens. I will miss these objects so enchanted by the lives for which they’ve laid backdrop.

Enough of pens and desks. Of Location and Content and Where and What and you can read my th*s*s if you want to know more about pages making people. The truth is, without Observer staff, this computer lab would feel a lot less magical.

From staff, I have learned how to take risks. I have learned how to text wrap images, transcribe interviews, and keep promises. I have learned patience, accountability, and forgiveness. I have really, really not learned how to use layers in Adobe InDesign.

What I am saying is that I am speechless. I am awed. The members of Observer staff have shown me compassion, commitment, and unconditional support that I would not have been able to take on this role without.

Being in community with all of you—staff past and present—is the best thing I have done at this school.

Of course I am sad that my time with the Observer is coming to its end. I dunno, it’s hard for me to write too emo of a letter right now. I’m at layout, people are wrapping up their designs, Erica is finishing the cover, and we’re listening to music. We’re dancing. I’ll be sad later. Right now, we’re making a magazine, and I love all of it so much.

With all my gratitude,

Emmett Pinsky

2 Tufts Observer December 10, 2018

An n res d h po ow nse we to tal And k a rea bo ut Long tra C ns hu itio n

i

s e v i t a r r a N w e N

W

hen I was 12, I thought I was a girl.

I soon decided I wasn’t. When I was 16, I met a non-binary person.

When I was 18, I began to realize I was non-binary. On November 25, 2018, at 21 years old, I read Andrea Long Chu’s column in the New York Times.

Her piece is called “My New Vagina Won’t Make Me Happy: and it shouldn’t have to.” Chu is a doctoral candidate in Comparative Literature at New York University. She is a writer and trans feminist critic. I had just read her piece in n+1 the day before, and was eager to read more. So when the column came up on my Twitter feed, I immediately clicked the link.

s u o m y Anon Her piece addresses the prevailing mindset that medical professionals, liberal allies, and even trans people ourselves have in regards to transitioning: that gender dysphoria, the discomfort and distress that trans and gender-nonconforming (GNC) people feel being in a body that does not match their gender identity, is a symptom of being trans that must be alleviated through transition. This assumes that if dysphoria is the cause of sadness for trans people, then transitioning will make them happy. Chu argues that this is a dangerous assumption—it makes optimism a medical requisite for the doctors who hold the keys to our transitions.

ART BY RYAN SHEEHAN

I assume, and yes I know assuming can be dangerous, that many of you have heard of the arguments against transition that go something like: “…but what about the people who have reported feeling worse? People who regret transitioning? People who it doesn’t work for?” This reifies the notion that transition is always linear, and that a successful transition is a happy transition.

This is the narrow definition of trans experiences that Chu is going up against.

She is a wonderful example of what the medical world might call a “bad” outcome. She says it herself: “I feel demonstrably worse since I started on hormones.

December 10, 2018 Tufts Observer 3

FEATURE

One reason is that, absent the levies of the closet, years of repressed longing for the girlhood I never had have flooded my consciousness. I am a marshland of regret.” She is one of these bad scenarios that transphobes so desperately want as proof that people should not be encouraged or allowed to transition. She is not what they’ve imagined.

But her regret is not that of the man who had a sex change only to realize he wanted to be a man again. Her regret is not about who she now is, but rather who she never got to be. Surgery is not going to make Chu happy, but she’s still trans, she still wants this, and she still deserves the procedures that she desires.

Chu highlights the two narratives that surround trans people in the medical world. The conservative viewpoint, as told by Heritage Foundation fellow Ryan Anderson, states that “we must avoid adding to the pain experienced by people with gender dysphoria, while we present them with alternatives to transitioning.” In his view, caring for trans people means refusing them transition and erasing identities. Chu also goes on to explain the liberal counternarrative courtesy of the World Professional Association for Transgender Health, which says that, “gender dysphoria can in large part be alleviated through treatment” and this treatment can “prevent some of the traditional horrible outcomes that transgender or gender-nonconforming youth have ended up with…depression, 4 Tufts Observer December 10, 2018

suicidal ideation, and substance abuse.”

This is a reality faced by many, and is one of the reasons why easy access to transitional tools is so crucial today. However, the rigid narrative of transition “success” as directly correlated with attendant happiness has taken the reigns, and stampeded over more nuanced and less linear trans experiences.

Happiness, Chu is telling us, should not be the only rubric for a ‘successful’ transition. I agree. Through my nonmedicalized transition so far, my discontent and heightened dysphoria have left me confused. I was arguably happier as a naïve bisexual boy than as an unbelievably aware non-binary queer person; according to the standards outlined above, my transition into who I am now didn’t “work.” Where does this leave me? With de-transitioning? I already occasionally do this on a small-scale—presenting more like a boy, letting people misgender me. When I do this, when I am unhappy, it does not mean I am wrong; it does not mean being non-binary is not “working” for me. Sure, I meet the mark of happiness fairly often. When I don’t, however, I want to retreat back into boyhood. Maybe I was the boy who made a mistake thinking he was anything other than that. I feel like I’ve failed.

My receding hairline mocks me in the mirror: it never used to. I’ve wanted to cry while shaving my face: I never used to. My sex-drive makes me feel gross: it never used to. Anti-androgens,

or Testosterone blockers (t-blockers), are a form of HRT that slow down/stop the recession of male-pattern baldness, soften (but not eliminate) facial and body hair, and can reduce sex drive. For these reasons, I’ve seriously considered starting to take them.

My first step in contemplating medication was looking on the Tufts University Health Services information page. I found the steps that I would need to take in order to gain access to HRT. This is what I read: The offices of Health Service (HS) and Counseling and Mental Health Service (CMHS) support trans and non-binary students who are wishing to feel affirmed in their gender… With respect to Gender Affirming Hormone Treatment (GAHT), CMHS coordinates care with HS. This includes a discussion about potential mental and medical health-related concerns that may interact with the effects of hormone treatment. We aim to make this process as smooth and quick as possible. The timeline varies case by case. These steps and projected timelines are approximate to help with planning and preparing. The first step is to start with an appointment with a CMHS clinician.

From talking with other trans and non-binary friends on this campus, I’ve gathered that this isn’t even the whole story. It doesn’t mention the two letters I would need from a counselor and psychiatrist deeming me eligible, worthy, and a legitimate enough trans person to receive HRT. These letters are written

FEATURE

after an indefinite process of proving to mental healthcare professionals that HRT will make me happy—that I not only want this, but that I need it to reduce my pain.

Next, I looked at the policy for Blue Cross Blue Shield of Massachusetts—my personal insurance provider. According to Policy 189, the policy on transgender services, candidates for all medicalized forms of transition must be “diagnosed with gender dysphoria,” must have “the desire to live and be accepted as a member of another sex other than one’s assigned sex, typically accompanied by the desire to make the physical body as congruent as possible with the identified sex through surgery and hormone treatment,” and “the new gender identity” must have “been present for at least 12 months.” Beyond this, they require that “the candidate has completed a minimum of 12 months of successful continuous full time real-life experience in their new gender, with no returning to their original gender. This includes members who identify as genders other than male or female.”

By these standards, I will be forced into performing an unattainable version of transness to get the so-called “care” that these professionals are able to give me. I have no way of knowing if my story will meet their benchmark of a “successful congruous full time real-life experience.”

When they inevitably walk me through the effects of T-blockers, determining if they will alleviate my dysphoria, one side effect will make me pause: slight breast development. I don’t think I will be able to tell them the truth. I lived for years as a chubby boy with ‘man-boobs,’ and I know that even now in my queerness, breast de-

velopment will at times destroy my body image. I don’t want this, yet I still might seek out hormones. I will not be able to tell the truth when asked if I have the “desire to make the physical body as congruent as possible” with my gender, because “non-binary” has no scientific or legal body. If I am honest about my experience, I might not be allowed to medically transition. To go through with this process, I will have to lie.

On Sunday November 25, after reading Chu’s piece, I returned to my twitter feed and immediately saw the criticism pouring out in response. One expected misread from conservative radio host Erick Erickson read: “The New York Times helpful[ly] reminds us, however unintentionally, that transgenderism is a mental health issue and is not normal.” Another criticism came from both cis liberal “allies” and other trans people, calling for trans people to only publicize happy narratives that can’t be flipped to bolster transphobic rhetoric put forward by people like Erickson. Over and over again I saw the desire to silence voices like Chu’s for their potential to give fuel to the fire of transphobic reactionary politics. I argue, however, that without these voices, the fire will never be extinguished.

As I refreshed my feed again and again, I saw more and more reactions to Chu’s piece. Trans twitter was blowing up with tweets that re-stating personal statements along the lines of “But I am happy!” or “so many of us are happy!” This frustrated me, because those responses miss the point. The response I want is, “I am happy, but that shouldn’t matter, because my experience is not the experience of all

trans people.” These reactions felt like an attempt to save face in fear of the possible blowback. These reactions do not change the narratives that uphold the very system we fear. The fire continues to blaze.

It is not that I, nor other trans people who see themselves in Chu’s story, will never be happy, or that we will never have moments of bliss; but rather, that we are more than our joy. My transition is so much more than my euphoria. It is loving and hating my body in new ways. It is my childhood making so much sense that it hurts. It is celebrating never having to be someone’s “boyfriend” again; it is mourning that I couldn’t have been her “partner” all along. It is trying to hide from stares in public. Dysphoria chips away at both our bodies and our experiences, and no amount of medical aid can fix those experiences. Transitioning is not a cure for a transphobic world.

By working on the principle that eradicating our pain is the only way to take care of our dysphoria, the medical and mental health professionals who aim to affirm our gender have built a system that forces us into silent misery.

We should not be expected to find happiness by conscribing to compulsory medical and societal gender systems and narratives. We should be granted autonomy over our bodies not based on external rubrics of need, but rather on our own desires. Our personal, and not always easily navigable, trans experiences should be paid attention to—this is the care we deserve. We need to care about each other and we need to care for each other, but we are not something that needs to be taken care of.

December 10, 2018 Tufts Observer 5

campus

reevaluating the confucius institute at tufts

O

n November 18, the New York Times released a five-part article series entitled “China Rules” that overviews the country’s rising power and mounting tensions with the United States. The series begins by commenting that, “[China] didn’t like the West’s playbook, so they wrote their own.”

The Times coverage tells a story that has increasingly come to the forefront of American politics—one that depicts China as an aggressive and authoritarian global challenger. But in turn, China has pushed back against this narrative, and one strategy has become evident on college campuses.

Confucius Institutes, also known as “Hanban,” were first established by the Chinese government in 2004, and are described as “non-profit public institutions which aim to promote Chinese language and culture in foreign countries.” Colleges are one of the most popular destinations for Confucius Institutes, which are hosted by more than 500 universities worldwide, with over 100 in the United States.

The reception of Confucius Institutes by college students, administrators, and community members has been mixed, including at Tufts. While some laud them as hubs for cultural exchange, others fear their potential to be used as tools of government-funded propaganda, or even vehicles for espionage.

6 Tufts Observer december 10, 2018

By Alexandra Benjamin

Political Science Professor Michael Beckley, who researches great power politics and teaches Chinese foreign policy at Tufts, discussed his views on the debate. “[American universities] of course prize academic freedom, and the Chinese government doesn’t have a very good record of that, so I think it just built on those long-standing suspicions, and then it’s been in the context of this recent downturn in US-China relations,” he said. “I see them more as a propaganda arm, not as a conduit for Chinese spies.”

Nevertheless, the future status of Confucius Institutes at colleges has increasingly come under fire, and many have been disbanded. Some criticisms have come up from as high as the US Congress. Congressman Seth Moulton (MA-06), for example, sent a letter to Tufts President Anthony Monaco last March. He urged the school to dissociate from its branch, the Confucius Institute at Tufts University (CITU), due to the Institute’s reputational tendency to “intimidate academics and twist academic discourse.” Today, CITU, which was established at Tufts in 2015, has been placed under review, in accordance with its agreement coming up for renewal in June 2019.

The review—announced to the Tufts community via email on September 21—is being undertaken by a committee comprised of Provost ad interim Deborah Kochevar, Dean of the School of Arts & Sciences Jim Glaser, and other faculty members with relevant regional, linguistic, or legal expertise. Due to the ongoing nature of the investigation, members of the committee declined to comment on its proceedings, and instead deferred to Patrick Collins, Tufts’ Director of Public Relations, who spoke to the Observer over email.

“The committee will be looking at the Institute’s current activities, whether they are within the scope of the agreement, the quality of instruction, and the benefits of the Institute’s programming,” he wrote. “We want to weigh the benefits and any potential costs to the Tufts community and the university in general in a number of areas: financial, cultural, educational, reputational, and others.”

Collins added that the committee has consulted government offices and Tufts’ government relations advisors to better understand the climate of US-Sino relations and Confucius Institutes in a national context. They also hosted two meetings in October open to the Tufts community to garner feedback.

But concerns about CITU predate its review. A major worry comes from Confucius Institutions being known to misrepresent actions by the Chinese Government in their teachings of recent history, such as erasing the massacre of pro-Democracy protesters at Tiananmen Square in 1989.

campus

Liz Bishop, a 2018 alum who took several Chinese language classes at Tufts, spoke about a troubling experience she had with CITU while she was enrolled in Chinese 21 that ultimately led her to stop taking Chinese classes.

Bishop explained that when her Chinese professor unexpectedly went on extended leave, the Chinese program replaced her with the then-director of CITU, Yanfu Fu. Bishop felt the choice was inappropriate considering he was not a member of the Chinese’s program’s faculty and because of the Institute’s reliance on Chinese government funding. She also said that the instructor related inappropriately to the students, making comments about his favorite brand of condoms and saying he thought abortions were immoral.

“They were just not okay things to be saying, especially when you’re in a position of power in a classroom,” Bishop said.

She added that while the instructor may not have been reflective of the institute as a whole, he was still an employee, and his appointment seemed unsurprising to her in the context of broader politics she had observed of the Chinese program.

“For example... suggesting that Taiwanese people are distinct from Chinese people is something I’ve gotten push back from in other Chinese classes,” she said. “Which I know is something that has come up in conversations about the Confucius Institutes in other schools.”

The erasure of Taiwanese identity is another concern about the teachings of Confucius Institutes as a whole, as well as their erasure of Hong Kong and Tibetan people. Bishop felt that hearing this kind of inaccurate narrative in the classroom was incredibly frustrating, especially as a Taiwanese-American with a Mandarin speaking family. When she brought her issues with her substitute teacher’s conduct to the attention of the Chinese program, they did not take action.

Bishop, as well as Professor Beckley, both discussed how money can be a complicating factor in evaluating the relationships between universities and Confucius Institutes.

“My parents are literally paying for the Chinese government to teach me Chinese,” Bishop said. “I think that’s really messed up; that’s not what I signed up for… [CITU pays] to be here, they fund events for the Chinese department, that’s why they’re here. It’s money and I think… particularly humanities and language programs don’t have a lot of money.”

Beckley, however, was skeptical that CITU’s financial contributions would be a major factor in the University’s decision.

“When you look at the size of Tufts’ endowment, it’s pretty laughable to think that the few hundred thousand dollars they send is going to cause us to change our library books,” he said.

ART BY WILL MUELLER AND BRIGID CAWLEY

“at the heart of this debate are questions of transparency and freedom of information.”

However, Beckley added that money could create more complicated politics for schools with different financial situations.

“I think for state universities that are dependent on public funding that’s being cut, that could be more of a big issue,” he noted. “Because they might not have a Chinese language program if they can’t bring these Confucius Institutes, and that could affect how they teach Chinese history [and] Chinese culture. So, if I was at one of those universities, I would be far more concerned, but at a wealthy school like Tufts we’re just not as dependent on their money.”

Ultimately, financial and other questions regarding the Institute must be resolved by the committee. Collins explained that once the committee feels it has gathered sufficient information, it will submit a report of its findings to Provost Kochevar and Dean Glaser for review, and a definitive decision will be made by President Monaco. He added that the committee hopes to turn over its recommendation by the end of the calendar year, but made no indication that they were currently leaning either way.

At the heart of this debate are questions of transparency and freedom of information. According to Beckley, while there is certainly cause for concern surrounding the proliferation of misinformation by Confucius Institutes, he is not particularly worried about it giving way to propaganda goals.

“It gets [students] interested about China, gives them some of the language capabilities,” he said. “[But] I imagine many of them end up working on the American side and trying to improve US-China relationships in some ways at the detriment of Chinese national interests.”

However, he also is not optimistic that Confucius Institutes can effectively be used to bridge the growing schisms of cultural understanding between the US and China while they remain bound to a government dedicated to censorship for the sake of national image.

“The government’s whole purpose of having [Confucius Institutes] is to try to craft an alternative narrative to what Westerners are hearing about China,” he said. “They would have to open up and say, ‘Yeah we’re going to talk about Tiananmen, we’re going to talk about all these human rights abuses openly,’ but then that kind of works at cross purposes with what they’re trying to do.”

december 10, 2018 Tufts Observer 7

Arts & Culture

I

Requiem for

n 2016, the Tufts Observer published an article entitled “Me to Me: Write an Article about the Meme Page” that outlined the significance of the Facebook group “Tufts Memes for Quirky Queens” as a way for students to express themselves.

Since its introduction into Tufts student life, the page has cultivated a strong presence in student culture, and many have turned to it as a source of authentic information and first impressions of the University—especially incoming first year students.

For many of these first years, acceptance into the meme page can feel like a small but significant victory—an initiation into a world unknown. This is a world inherently unique to Tufts culture; jokes on the page can be as specific as a reference to the unsettling automated voice that comes on at 12:44 a.m. in Tisch commanding students to leave before 1:00 a.m.— something only those who have spent time at Tufts understand.

First year René Jameson laughed as she recalled her excitement when she first saw the meme page. “Forget committing to the school. I joined the meme page and that’s like—commitment,” she said.

The page not only allows a humorous preview into campus culture, but also gives insight into serious issues on campus, in-

8 Tufts Observer December 10, 2018

cluding key information often be missing from the school’s admissions page.

Speaking specifically to the the lack of diversity at Tufts, Jameson discussed the dissonance she noticed between the Whiteness she sees on campus and the diversity that Tufts claims to have. “Tufts

advertised itself as super diverse,” she said in regards to the admission page.

She added that “Tufts is still a step up [in diversity]” when compared to her largely White town “…but it shouldn’t be advertising itself as [diverse].”

Jameson found a more authentic representation of race and better understood its impact on student life through the meme page. Take, for example, a picture of toothpaste labeled “Noticeabley White,” meant to describe the Tufts population.

“I think it’s cool that the meme page is like, ‘Nope, we’re super White, and we have a lot of White kids, our staff is mostly White,’” she said. “It’s very honest and I appreciate seeing that.”

However, Jameson would also like to see Tufts Admissions follow suit. “[Tufts] doesn’t have to be dishonest about it or put up this front that isn’t true,” she said. “I think it would actually be really wonderful if the school were honest about the fact that [Tufts] is a predominantly White institution…it has to take steps to improve.”

In addition to revealing important realities, the presence of the page can also ease the transition into campus culture for newer students whose only previous experience with the school may have been Tufts’ website or other admissions materials.

First year Georgia Kay noted that the page allows her to feel more connected to a student body that initially seemed overbearingly elite and highbrow. In this way, the page allows for a mending of the disparity between the way Tufts markets itself, and the way the student community

ART BY NASRIN LIN

a Meme

Arts & Culture

By Trina Sanyal

By Trina Sanyal

actually functions. “It can be so intimidating, especially as a first year,” Kay said.

In her perception, Tufts characterizes the student body as only completely academically driven and focused, while the page shows a more honest side of folks who are often “struggling to get things done.” First year Jonathan Zamsky echoed this sentiment, noting that “the Tufts admissions page…make us all seem like scholars,” but in reality many of us are just “tired.”

So what do we make of this online community of students coping with the frustration of having a full class enrollment cart, or identifying red flags of a Tufts soft boy by way of Venn diagram, besides seeing it as an outlet for niche humor and helpful insights?

One answer is in the page’s informative nature.

Specific pop culture references and well-recognized meme formats may create an accessibility that allows students to make light of the stresses of going to Tufts (see: Tobey Maguire leaving behind his Spiderman costume in tears, just like a student leaving the pre-med track after getting back their first Bio 13 exam grade). Another is the page’s ability to inform the Tufts community about student movements and Tufts community concerns, particularly for first years who may never have been exposed to them before.

On November 14, at 10:23 p.m., Mia Lambert, one of the organizers for Tufts Dining Action Coalition, posted a meme that showcased the Rally for a Fair Dining Contract scheduled for that same week.

Tufts Dining Action Coalition is an organization that works to advocate for a fair

union contract for Tufts dining workers.

The meme specifically targeted the potential concern that students may not attend the rally due to inclement weather, or an overload of work. After the meme was posted, interest in the rally’s event page spiked.

“People would be liking it…and then hit ‘interested’ in the event…and that’s why it felt really effective,” said Lambert about the meme. The meme even traveled beyond the bounds of the page and was

reposted by dining workers on Facebook. “[Dining workers] were really excited about it, and were sharing it,” Lambert added. Though the memes posted about the rally enabled conversation and provoked excitement, Lambert clarified that it should not be considered a replacement for organizing tactics—talking to people in person is still the most effective way to get people involved in activism.

Still, when used well, the page can be an informative tool for first years and the general student community. Many first years interviewed for this piece mentioned that the meme page was also their first exposure to the Tufts Housing League and the ongoing conversation surrounding the housing crisis at Tufts. In this way, memes can help center student action, and make activism visible and accessible to all members of the student body.

Whether by addressing lack of diversity, student activism, or a light-hearted inside joke, the Tufts meme page helps facilitate community. As Jameson put it: “As a freshman, it makes me feel good. Other people are also overwhelmed or concerned about this issue, and making a joke out of it not only raises awareness of it, but also interconnects everybody.”

December 10, 2018 Tufts Observer 9

Opinion

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10 Tufts Observer DECEMBER 10, 2018

POST

groups. When I participated in the Women’s March, I was pleasantly surprised to see how many other people were marching with me through the rainy streets of Portland, Oregon, as well as in different marches across the country. But perhaps one reason that the Women’s March enjoyed such a large turnout is that it was not really doing the work of fighting for a specific cause. People could show up, carry a sign for a couple of hours, and feel as though they had filled their activist quota for the year. In reality, many of the people at the march never specifically advocated for women of color, trans women, or any other intersectional identities.

Many people with marginalized identities cannot choose when to be an activist, or which issues to support on certain days. My mother, for instance, wears a hijab as an outward expression of her Muslim faith. Every day after the travel ban was announced back in January of 2017, her leaving the house felt like a testament to the fact that she was not intimidated by Trump’s anti-Muslim rhetoric. The fact that she was here to stay became her own form of protest.

Donavan Payne, a first year at Tufts, described his own, similar experience. “My whole identity is inherently political,” he explained. “I’m Black, I’m queer… I can’t really choose when to be involved or not.”

Of course, enacting change through electoral and legislative processes is important, but at the same time, voting is not universally accessible to all individuals.

There are many barriers that prevent people—usually people of marginalized identities—from voting. Voting booths only being open during the work day, strictly requiring voters to have DMV-issued IDs, or even tampering with voter machines in certain minority neighborhoods are just a few examples.

There are ample opportunities for civic engagement that exist beyond the realm of voting. Here at Tufts, the landscape for student activism is alive and well.

Just a couple of weeks ago, I marched up to

ELECTION BLUES

ovember 6, 2018 was a day that many Democrats, such as myself, had anticipated for months. Several up-andcoming politicians, such as Stacey Abrams in Georgia and Beto O’Rourke in Texas, had been gathering bases of passionate supporters for months, and the prospect of a “blue-wave” was on the horizon. This year was also the first that many millennials could vote, and young people were excited to finally have their voices heard.

Along with the crisp fall breeze, the feeling of change in the air was palpable.

I felt a wave of excitement myself as I sent in my absentee ballot, happy that my vote was being counted and that I was participating as an active member of our democracy. However, my excitement was marred by the disappointment I felt as the day progressed. The more I checked social media, the more I noticed a pattern— my Instagram feed was overflowing with graphics telling me to go out and vote, and every Snapchat story I watched was another video of someone slipping their absentee ballot through a mailbox slot.

At first, these posts were a reassuring reminder that young people were finally getting involved in politics. But after reading what felt like the millionth caption lecturing me about democracy or encouraging people to get out and vote, I started wondering if the users posting actually cared about the issues they were encouraging others to vote for. To me, it seemed more like a kind of performative activism—these people seemed to be selectively uplifting certain voices at a convenient time, while ignoring urgent social issues and the actual needs of marginalized people every other day of the year.

More than that, I noticed some striking similarities among many of the people talking about voting on social media: they were almost all White people who I had previously noticed demonstrating very little investment in political issues. Now I was frustrated. Why were these sudden activists silent throughout the rest of the year?

Simply casting a vote and urging others to do the same is not enough; there is work to be done and greater impact to be had in doing the work of empathizing with the struggles of marginalized

By Sara Barkouli

OPINION Ballou Hall with a group of students advocating for a fair contract and working conditions for our dining staff. When we gathered outside Ballou, not only did students speak about why they felt passionate about advocating for our dining workers, but staff members themselves told their stories in front of the whole group.

Moments like those are when I feel the most inspired—when my activism is used to uplift the actual stories and struggles of the people I am advocating for and with.

But despite this, Tufts continues to tout voting specifically as the pinnacle of civic engagement. JumboVote—a student voter engagement initiative spearheaded

by Tisch College—does important work surrounding getting young people to register to vote. Yet there are no alternate campus groups of the same scale or with the same amount of institutional support encouraging other types of activism. Why are there not as visible structures in place to promote activism, outside of voting, for college students who are obviously passionate about civic engagement?

There are other ways to be an activist. Volunteer for specific movements or causes. Do research about which candidates you are voting for and which organizations you are supporting. Investigate your own privileges and your relationship to marginalized identities. As Payne phrased it, activism has to be “an internal thing of people with privilege checking each other,” instead of placing all of the pressure on marginalized groups to advocate for themselves without support.

It can’t just be small pockets of people caring about intersectional issues in order for them to receive the attention they deserve. It has to be everyone. I wonder how the world would look if, every time an unarmed Black person was shot, there were as many posts about it as there were about registering to vote. I wonder how the world would look if public displays of activism like the Women’s March or the March For Our Lives uplifted nonWhite voices as loudly as White ones.

It is easy to feel like smaller acts of political and civic engagement can neatly check off all our activist requirements. But we cannot let these infrequent and easy tasks distract us from showing solidarity with marginalized groups who need constant support. There is always more work to be done.

ART BY MIRABEL SLEIMAN

DECEMBER 10, 2018 Tufts Observer 11

POETRY

right… what’s all this then?

by Brette Lennon in dreams: I love the giant man the unbrushed hair a porch somewhere but a long porch and one large pink-ish purple morph and in the morning: You ask me: what’s one thing you look forward to: here You say: I live in your telephone lines so I’ll hear when you say it You say: type words that nobody understands except for anyone who matters and You say: you never let yourself sleep, although I wish you would in dreams: I eat shrimp out of the sink and raspberries off the fingers of the creatures lapping up onto your dock or porch everyone sips dried yogurt with the healthiest olive oil in the world You would say: sounds decadent ever let yourself sleep? (still I wish you would) in the mornings: I’ve been trying to figure out google earth and You’ve been reminding me to ask hey, where are you?

I’ve been reminding you [we need to make those cup phones and connect to our house and say…] don’t forget about this when I’m awake I want to tell you [In the ‘90s there was a giant man that was two people stacked on each other’s shoulders and they threw butterscotch at the crowd and everyone really thought it was a giant man]

12 Tufts Observer DEcember 10 , 2018

ART BY AVI & RUTHIE BLOCK

out of service, please leave a message

PHOTOS BY BELLA MAHARAJ

PHOTO BY STUART MONTGOMERY

PHOTO BY STUART MONTGOMERY

PHOTO BY BRITT

PHOTO BY BRITT

PHOTO BY STUART MONTGOMERY

PHOTO BY STUART MONTGOMERY

PHOTOS BY BRITT

poetry

by Emmett Pinsky We are almost ready to start closing the windows at night.

This time last year I was breaking my ankles Until the drywall gave way.

Bits of my room got everywhere, including your teeth.

This time last year I was breaking my ankles, And you couldn’t be bothered to get undressed.

Bits of my room got everywhere, including your teeth.

The morning after this I watched the carpet move like water.

You couldn’t be bothered to get undressed That day we dug a hole under the bed.

The morning after this I watched the carpet move like water.

The water is boiling, now.

That day we dug a hole under the bed Until the drywall gave way.

The water is boiling, now, and We are almost ready to start closing the windows at night.

PHOTO BY STUART MONTGOMERY ART BY RIVA DHAMALA

DEcember 10, 2018 Tufts Observer 17

Arts & Culture

Let’s chat: Loving Ariana Grande

By Rosy Triggs Fitzgerald and Wilson Wong Rosy Fitzgerald is a copy-editor for the Observer and has been an Arianator since 2014. She currently runs the popular fan account @arianaswidelegpants.

Wilson Wong is the Opinions Editor for the Observer, and he has been an Arianator since 2015, when Ariana Grande licked a donut that she didn’t pay for right after proclaiming, “I hate America!”

Rosy Fitzgerald: I think we need to start with “thank u, next.” It’s set more than a few records, including Ari’s first number one single on Billboard. Honestly, what she’s doing is ingenious. She knows exactly how to play into pop meme culture.

Wilson Wong: Agreed. Let’s outline the message of “thank u, next” for a second.

RF: Right. Lyrically, Ariana walks us through her most publicized relationships as an adult pop star, including with rapper Big Sean back in 2014; one of her backup dancers, Ricky Alvarez, in 2015; rapper Mac Miller from 2016-2018; and SNL cast member Pete Davidson, to whom she was engaged for a short time until reportedly breaking things off this October.

WW: And she does all of this in about 15 seconds, in the first verse, with a perfectly mulled tone of ease and self-awareness.

RF: The rest of the song is a masterful mixture of humility and gratefulness for the growth and experience of each past relationship, while simultaneously moving right along and welcoming whatever new experiences the universe has in store.

WW: I’m not a music scholar, but I think it’s kind of novel for a woman to speak so vulnerably and openly about a recent breakup in such a positive light. Like, yes, I am grateful to be single and to be in a relationship with myself, but I am also grateful for my exes that have challenged me and helped me grow and have been with me, particularly in times when I needed them.

RF: Also, the music video? Breaking YouTube records for most views in 24 hours? Kris Jenner self-referencing with the “Kim, you’re doing amazing, sweetie” meme? And a love letter to our favorite 2000s movies: Legally Blonde, Mean Girls, 13 Going On 30, and Bring it On? WW: If you loved those movies when you were younger, you’re gay now.

RF: [Laughs] For our audience: Wilson and I are both queer and love all of those movies. Although, something I want to talk about that has been bothering me since the song’s release is this comparison between Ari and Taylor Swift that always seems to be made, basically following this sentiment of “Ariana did what Taylor couldn’t.”

WW: I agree. I think that’s a prime example of how misogyny and sexism operate in our consumption of pop culture. I’m not defending Taylor, but the distinction I want to make here is that women, and people in general, can react however they want from breakups, whether that’s being thankful, sad, or angry.

RF: And nobody’s even talking about how much more graceful either of these women are than, for instance, Justin Timberlake, a man, who constantly trashed his ex, Britney Spears, throughout his entire career. He was will-

18 Tufts Observer December 10, 2018

ART BY AMY TONG

and Losing with

Arts & Culture

ingly dredging up her past mistakes, while simultaneously profiting off her struggles while she was still going through them.

And he continues to trash her because he’s a man and that entitles him to those feelings.

WW: That double standard is exactly what Ariana has tweeted about countless times! Also, she’s gone through so much in the past two years. In 2017, the Manchester terrorist attack at her concert led to her PTSD, plus Mac Miller recently passed due to a drug overdose. She’s loved and she’s lost, and she’s still mourning, but now more than ever, she’s prioritizing what’s important to her. And, she’s [expletive] over it.

RF: That same mentality goes along with her fearlessness about being political. That’s why Taylor Swift, for example, wasn’t saying anything at all until only recently with the midterm elections. Maybe, at the very least, like putting the H with the arrow or whatever for Hillary on Instagram in 2016. Maybe.

WW: [Laughs] Maybe begrudgingly. Not to pit them against each other—a lot of the comparisons between these two pop stars are definitely gendered.

RF: But separate from her womanhood, I specifically don’t like Swift because she’s always had a huge platform and has always remained silent about her politics, whereas Grande has always been outspoken and vocal about hers. Remaining silent on real issues out of the fear of losing fans or losing an audience—Ariana has never shown that fear.

WW: Right, and Swift only gave her support for the Democratic nominees in Tennessee when it was more favorable to be outspoken about politics than it was to be silent about it.

RF: Remember when Ari faced so much backlash from donut-gate when she screamed, “I hate America!” after licking that donut? It did bother me that she then apologized and was like, “Sorry, I’m still learning.” Like, no, Ari, you had it right, we do hate America!

WW: And then she blamed it on obesity? Like, weird flex, but ok.

RF: Also, how old was she when that happened? She was like 21, our age.

WW: And we’re 21, sitting on a couch right now, like how could she not be more thoughtful?

RF: But in my opinion it doesn’t discount her vocal acknowledgement of the propaganda of American exceptionalism. I think she was scrambling to get out of a bad press moment, but over the years she has continued to criticize this country.

WW: Celebrities are often inconsistent with their politics because their careers are on the line, and sometimes they face pressure to appease their fans, despite their own feelings.

Even though Ariana, compared to others, tends to be more vocal, she’s obviously not perfect.

RF: Ariana, “Better Left Unsaid” was my third favorite ballad off Yours Truly, but sometimes things… better get said.

December 10, 2018 Tufts Observer 19

Arts & Culture

WW: Uh… Anyways, don’t get me wrong, I stan Ariana Grande, but a White woman with a huge platform advocating for basic human rights is really doing the bare minimum here. And, because of it, there’s this running joke on Twitter claiming that Ari is a woman of color, queer, or both.

RF: Okay, yeah. To be clear, Ariana Grande is a White woman, and straight. Sorry to break it to the people who just discovered that from reading this.

WW: There’s certainly a racialized component that exists for people of color literally grasping at straws to see ourselves represented in mainstream media. Some of my closest friends were literally shocked when they found out Ariana Grande was ItalianAmerican and not a Latina woman. Ari certainly doesn’t hide her Italian-ness, but she is racially ambiguous. Perhaps, as fans, we’re so willing to consider Ari a woman of color or a queer woman, despite us knowing she’s not either, because there’s something especially shiny and appealing about her aesthetic that elevates her above actual artists of color and queer artists—that something is her Whiteness, which we’re simultaneously worshipping and pretending not to see.

RF: She’s absolutely benefiting from our consumption of her aesthetic as a person of color, and she must know that.

WW: She gets the best of both worlds—not you, Miley—like, both the status, respect, and privilege of being a White woman plus the very same optics of racial ambiguity that people of color are shamed and ostracized for. We don’t see that same kind of popularity and support for Janelle Monáe or Hayley Kiyoko, who are both actual women of color and queer.

RF: That makes me think of the video for “God is a woman.” There’s a short voiceover moment around 2:24 with a bible quote meant to represent the voice of God, and it’s actually the voice of Madonna. In behind-the-scenes footage from the set of the video, director Dave Meyers explains how “Madonna carried the struggle on her shoulders to put out what Ari’s able to put out now, and so [for] that baton pass to happen on this video is like… so big.”

WW: Oh… yikes!

RF: Ariana, a straight White woman, gets celebrated as some rad, queer pop icon. And then to say Madonna of all people paved the way? That’s simply a massive mistake and a dismissal of history. At the height of her career Madonna was certainly pushing boundaries, but she was also partaking in an enormous theft of drag culture. Madonna was raking in tons of money and success, claiming ownership of and appropriating drag culture in her music and image, while queens of color continued to face discrimination, harassment, and violence with absolutely none of the credit that was owed to them.

WW: This pattern of deriving aesthetics, profit, and even a sense of moral superiority from marginalized populations is not an isolated or ahistorical event. I think we both can agree that this doesn’t mean that we suddenly “cancel” Ariana Grande, but we want to hold artists accountable, particularly someone like Ari, who has demonstrated a history of expressing remorse and has shown potential by addressing and growing from her mistakes.

RF: There’s no point in us making a list of all of the problematic things that people like Taylor Swift and Miley Cyrus have done, because they are pretty much innumerable, and both have shown a major aversion to accepting fault and learning from their mistakes. We all saw you trying to capitalize on a phony sense of self-awareness with Reputation, Taylor, and you’re still a snake! Sorry!

WW: Not sorry! (Lovato 2017) RF: Also, to take a cue from Ari, I think there’s a way we, as everyday, non-celebrity consumers of pop culture can be thankful for the mistakes made by celebrities, which get broadcast with ear-splitting volume and near-immediacy.

WW: I agree; we get to have our own embarrassing missteps without a fanbase and audience of billions, and also learn a lot from unpacking our idols.

RF: And on that note, @ArianaGrande, if you’re reading this, we love you more than life itself. Please read my letters and follow my fan account @arianaswidelegpants. Also, please give us soundcheck and meet & greet passes to the Sweetener tour because those ticket prices are not reasonable at all! Ok love you, bye!

20 Tufts Observer December 10, 2018

News

“Hey alexa, buy LONG island city”

By Kyle Lui

O

n Tuesday, November 13, Amazon announced its plan to open two new headquarters—one in Long Island City, Queens, and the other in Crystal City, Virginia. This announcement followed a 14-month search process in which cities nationwide competed to host the new headquarters. Locales such as Miami, Philadelphia, and Austin responded to Amazon’s extensive Request for Proposal, all hoping to lure the firm and the jobs it would create to their site by detailing their specific advantages and offering up incentive packages filled with tax breaks and subsidy programs.

This creation of incentive packages is usually part of a larger scale effort by local governments to attract companies like Amazon with the hope that they’ll bring economic development and resources in the form of private corporations to urban areas. Laurie Goldman, a Professor from the Tufts Graduate School of Urban and Environmental Policy and Planning (UEP) explained the motive behind this practice, noting, “cities are doing this because we don’t have a lot of federal money coming in to support large scale development. So we need to take advantage of private sector resources, but this is not necessarily strategic.” This results in a situation where,

ART BY RYAN SHEEHAN

instead of sustainable and strategic development based in community needs, cities are now vying for private investment and becoming reliant on the private sector to generate piecemeal economic activity.

The 3 billion dollar economic incentive package the city offered to Amazon has been met with outrage by elected officials and community residents alike.

Critics point out that the money is being used to subsidize the world’s second most valuable company, whose CEO, Jeff Bezos, is the richest man in modern history. In response, stakeholders have decried the decision not only due to the large amount of subsidies and tax incentives offered to Amazon, but also because of the potentially detrimental impact an Amazon headquarters may have on various urban issues that already strain the surrounding community, which will already suffer from the lack of community input present in Amazon’s plans. On November 26, the Queens Anti-Gentrification Project held a Cyber Monday NYC Amazon Blackout, which called for a boycott to protest the planned opening of Amazon’s headquarters in Long Island City. Additionally, Jimmy Van Bramer, the councilman whose district includes Long Island City, has become an opponent of the deal, stating: “We’re going

to mobilize and protest and claim that democracy is still alive in Queens and in New York City and New York State…It’s unacceptable and we’re going to fight.”

New York Senator Kirsten Gillibrand weighed in with her own criticisms, pointing to the lack of community involvement in decision-making and the tax breaks the company will receive, while Mayor Bill De Blasio and Governor Andrew Cuomo remain steadfast in their support. The two have justified the deal for many reasons, mainly pointing to the number of jobs Amazon will bring to the area. In a public statement, De Blasio said: “You have a democratically elected mayor and a democratically elected governor saying we had an unprecedented opportunity to add to the number of jobs in this city…And we were not going to let that slip through our hands.” The state estimates that Amazon will create 25,000 jobs over the next decade, and up to 40,000 jobs long-term, according to Governor Cuomo’s budget director. Despite the democratic elections of these government officials that De Blasio emphasized, neither of them consulted with the City Council or the community about whether these are jobs that city residents need, or that they would help make the city more sustainable and equitable.

december 10, 2018 Tufts Observer 21

NEWS

Cuomo plans to approve the tech campus through a General Project Plan under the state Urban Development Corporation Act, which exempts the project from City zoning and the ULURP process.

In effect, the state has overruled the city’s authority. The ULURP process was set up to prevent top-down urban planning—urban planning that is determined by high level government officials and professional planners, sometimes in consultation with private entities without public consultation. On the contrary, ULURP process tries to promote bottom up urban planning, which encourages convening with neighborhood communities to allow for grassroots planning that comes from the voices and needs of Long Island City residents. Specifically, ULURP allows community boards and the borough President to have input, giving the planning commission and the City Council binding votes on whether to hand over city land to other entities or rezone it for the entity’s proposed use. As a result of this bypass, Amazon’s plans don’t require democratic approval from the community, highlighting the lack of accountability that characterizes Amazon’s development process. Furthermore, it leaves questions about the impact of Amazon’s development and entry into the community unresolved.

In its memorandum of understanding (MOU), Amazon has agreed to fund infrastructure improvements that include streets, sidewalks, utility relocations, environmental remediation, public open space, transportation, schools and signage.

Additionally, Amazon also plans to host semi-annual job fairs and resume workshops at Queensbridge Houses, the nation’s largest housing project, beginning in 2020. Furthermore, it plans to open a job training center run by non-profit partners. While all of these tentative plans provide for potential benefits to the community, their overriding of the ULURP process has caused the neighborhood to lose other clear community benefits. In fact, the site Amazon is going to develop on was originally designated for 150,000 units of affordable housing, as well as a 600 seat middle school. Thus, while the amenities Amazon plans to provide may appear well-intended, they still failed to take input 22 Tufts Observer december 10, 2018

from the community to address its already onerous urban issues.

One of the most significant sectors Amazon will affect is housing. Long Island City is already the most expensive neighborhood in Queens. Additionally, The number of Long Island City residential units applied for in between 2014 to 2017 dropped by 95 percent, which implies that demand for housing and people’s desire to move into the neighborhood has experienced a decline in recent years, possibly because of its cost. Due to the expected increase in demand for rental housing in the area from new Amazon employees, however, Long Island City residents are fearful of the displacement that may take place. According to Tufts Housing Policy Professor Rosalind Greenstein, “Demand for housing in Queens is already strong so, without the addition of new units that meet the needs of the new Amazon hires, we would expect costs to rise. But, […] we don’t expect all the new hires to live in the immediate area. Both additional units and some new hires seeking housing further from the Amazon facility would mitigate the expected rise in housing costs.” Thus, we can only speculate the exact impacts Amazon will have on housing in Long Island City. However, there is little doubt that the influx of workers will cause some form of increase in housing costs. For Professor Hardman, “it’s important to worry about renters and about whether New York City has somehow made a deal that more housing will be built to accommodate the increase in the renting population in the immediate area.”

Furthermore, the influx of residents will have an impact on small local busi-

nesses. While Professor Hardman acknowledged that small businesses nationwide have been closing as a result of Amazon’s impact, she also noted that certain small businesses, such as coffee shops and craft breweries, could benefit from their presence in the community.

With the influx of highly paid Amazon workers, the increase in disposable income from community members may result in better business for local, small businesses in Long Island City. However, it’s difficult to be sure of what amenities Amazon will include within its campus, and how much employees will consequently participate in local economies outside of their expansive workspace.

While Mayor De Blasio and Governor Cuomo continue to defend the deal by saying Amazon will create more jobs, New Yorkers and Long Island City residents are concerned about to whom these jobs will go. Professor Goldman summed up these concerns. “Who will be those 25,000 workers coming in? Will they be the current residents of Long Island City and Queens?

Will they be marginalized people of color?

The residents of the largest public housing development in the country are right there—are they going to be provided with opportunities for those high paying jobs or are they going to be given that 15 dollar an hour wage, which is nice, but it’s not a living wage, particularly given if all of these people coming in are going to increase the cost of housing due to demand.”

Additionally, the area’s public school is already overcrowded. According to Professor Hardman, it is likely that Amazon will bring new residents and potentially new students. Unfortunately, Amazon has

News

In its first issue of the semester, the Observer examined Tufts’ new tiered housing system. Over the course of the semester, the fight has progressed and intensified, culminating in a full day of programming organized by the Tufts Housing League (THL) on Thursday, November 29, pushing for Tufts to end tiered housing and demanding that a new, high density dorm be built on campus. As we explore the effects of Amazon’s imposition into the Long Island City area, we must think about the continued housing crisis that exists on our campus and the anxiety it places on our neighbors in the form of increased rent and decreased access to housing. This is why THL continues to advocate for Tufts administration to create more affordable and equitable housing for students and ease the gentrifying effects on our surrounding community.

This is what community action looks like!

forced an already planned middle school to move to an undecided location due to its planned development. In response to this inconvenience, Amazon plans to pay for the new school. Lastly, Professor Hardman points out that the already congested traffic and crumbling public transit system will be impacted by this population influx, and Amazon has not yet suggested how exactly they plan to address these issues.

As the development of Amazon in Long Island City proceeds, we will not only be able to see how Amazon impacts the community, but we will also be able to see how the community will continue to respond in order to voice their needs in response to its impact. Professor Goldman listed some of the questions the communities will anxiously be anticipating answers for, such as: “Will Amazon invest in the people and the place? Will they make the place better according to what it is that the people there want, according to standards of sustainability and equitability? We don’t really know that and that’s not really what Amazon is known for.” In reality, neither Amazon nor Mayor De Blasio and Governor Cuomo consulted the community—all prioritizing capital and economic investment over community needs. Given that there is no sign this casual disregard will be acknowledged, the community will need to place pressure on these actors to provide Long Island City and New York City with what they truly need for a more equitable and sustainable neighborhood and city.

WHY ARE WE CALLING FOR TUFTS TO #BUILDTHEDORM? Here’s why: We have ~5,450 students at Tufts. We have dorm capacity for ~3,375 students.

If you math that out, that’s a shortage of about 2,075 beds.

All the students pushed into the off-campus housing market create a high demand that landlords exploit, driving rents up not only for students but also for local residents. This dynamic especially puts low-income students in a bind.

The Tufts administration and the TCU Senate have been doing good and much needed work to address this, but going forward, more implementations of their “village” model would be unsustainable, unjust, and insufficient. The village buildings they’re converting currently house faculty and staff, and those folks will be displaced to other off-campus buildings, thus kicking the can down the road and keeping area rents high/housing stock away from local residents. Plus, the villages will only add at most ~200 beds, a mere dent in the much larger unit deficit.

Other strategies to deal with the shortage, like “bed optimization,” try to solve the problem by cramming more students into smaller spaces. Clearly, neither of these are ideal solutions for anyone.

That’s why our solution is to build a new, accessible, and higher-density dorm!

The last new dorm was constructed in 2006 (Sophia Gordon Hall), and since then our undergrad student enrollment has increased by 650. We need more room!

It shouldn’t be too hard–we have open land to do this on campus without taking away important communal spaces like the quads, and city officials in Medford and Somerville have signaled that they would be more than willing to relax the zoning restrictions on new development if it means taking some of the school’s pressure off the local market. It’s better to do this sooner rather than later, as construction costs will only continue to go up, as will property costs as the Green Line Extension comes in.

The administration has a lot of financial interests/investments to balance, but we need to show them that this is a PRIORITY for us, and that it’s time to start spending money on projects that benefit everyone here, not just specific sports teams, not just specific academic departments, and not just wealthy donors.

That’s why we’re calling on the administration to #BuildTheDorm. If you’d like to join the movement, the first step is to sign our petition! https://www.gopetition. com/petitions/build-a-new-dorm-at-tufts.html. The next step is to message us directly, and get involved.

It’s up to us to make sure our university fixes these housing inequities.

And the time is now.

december 10, 2018 Tufts Observer 23

OPINION

A CALL FOR T

ufts University’s campus sits upon land that was inhabited by the Massachusett and Wampanoag nations for thousands of years. However, due to Native erasure at an institutional and academic level, the vast majority of students aren’t aware of this history.

Despite University recognition of Indigenous Peoples’ Day in 2016, there are still many ongoing legacies of colonialism on campus. Therefore, we are calling for the administration to establish a Native American and Indigenous Studies (NAIS) minor, beginning in the Fall of the 2019 school year.

The histories of oppressed groups in the US have long been silenced, erased, and marginalized in mainstream education. Fifty years ago, Native students and other students of color at San Francisco State University began a movement advocating for a curriculum that would reflect their communities, which led to the first race and ethnic studies program at a university. At Tufts, the Group of Six and the Consortium of Studies in Race, Colonialism, and Diaspora (RCD), which houses the minors of Africana Studies, Asian American Studies, Colonialism Studies, and Latino Studies, also resulted from ongoing work and organizing by students and faculty, in the face of pushback from the administration.

For Tufts University to live up to its mission statement of “providing transformative experiences for students and faculty in an inclusive and collaborative environment,” institutional support for NAIS is imperative.

Junior Desmond Fonseca, who is majoring in Africana Studies, reminded us that despite the University espousing virtues of “civic engagement, diversity, and social justice,” Tufts “shows

24 Tufts Observer DECEMBER 10, 2018

itself to be morally bankrupt in the absence of attempting to repair the harm it has been complicit in, and attention to the needs of Indigenous students and staff who are and are not on this campus.”

It is very easy for a Tufts student to spend four years here, unaware that this campus exists today because of the displacement and genocide of Native peoples. This past year, Tufts’ own student newspaper, The Tufts Daily, did not run a single article about the Indigenous programming for Indigenous Peoples’ Day weekend, which was attended by more than 500 people, even after multiple requests for coverage. The absence of Indigenous history in the minds of the student body, as highlighted in the lack of coverage in the Tufts Daily, results from institutional invisibility.

Native Studies programs can help to check this institutional invisibility. Darren Lone Fight, an American Studies professor, said that “past syllabi of, for instance, Intro to American Studies courses, have almost no Native American presence in the curriculum. If there isn’t a Native Studies program, there is a kind of past tense that people get placed into, a historical object of study.”

Furthermore, “classes in Native American and Indigenous Studies help students to learn about ongoing Native struggle and survival,” said Amahl Bishara, Associate Professor in Anthropology and Director of Minors for the RCD. “Critical Indigenous studies is an extremely intellectually vibrant space for interrogating settler colonialism, capitalism, and patriarchy.” Native American and Indigenous Studies at Tufts can be a vital meeting point for race and ethnic studies, queer studies, and

ART BY ERICA LEVY

OPINION

NATIVE STUDIES

By Parker Breza, Sung-Min Kim, Celeste Teng

colonialism studies, and will further the RCD’s interdisciplinary approach.

Learning about Indigeneity is crucial to an understanding of race, colonialism, and diaspora, and for non-Native students, it is vital to make the connections between different colonial projects in the US and elsewhere. “The histories and struggles of African and Indigenous peoples in the Americas are intrinsically linked,” said senior Anjali Knight. “To not have Native Studies is to continue to only tell part of history.

It perpetuates the silences and misconceptions that, as an Africana studies major, I am actively unlearning and uncovering.” She added that students need to always be thinking about how our education can also challenge these structures and bring this history to light.

Currently, all Native Studies classes are listed within the RCD. However, course options are extremely limited. Both this semester, and in the Fall semesters of 2017 and 2016, only one Native Studies class was offered. In the Spring of 2017, only three were offered. None of the faculty teaching these courses were tenured. Professors can only be hired under departments, and RCD recently transitioned from a program to a department for the upcoming school year.

Because of this, RCD professors were unable to be tenured through the program, and had to go through a department in order to gain tenure.

Ana Sofía Amieva-Wang, a senior, has taken two NAIS classes at Tufts, “both of which were taught by professors whose teaching, research and care for their students shaped rigorous and creative learning environments.” She added, “Tufts has to acknowledge that the people they hire are incredible scholars who will leave for more supportive

spaces and programs taking with them their knowledge and creativity, unless they give them a reason to stay.”

NAIS would be housed under RCD. Tufts took one important step when it recognized Indigenous Peoples’ Day in 2016, but this alone is far from enough. Native and non-Native students at Tufts have continued to express interest in the creation of an NAIS minor. In a petition circulated in November, more than 380 Tufts students said that they support NAIS at Tufts, with 280 of those students saying they would take an NAIS class, and 86 who said they would consider a minor.

Additionally, NAIS would offer a way to connect to tribal communities; this year, Lone Fight coordinated with the Mandan, Hidatsa, and Arika Nations to sponsor Indigenous Peoples’ Day programming at Tufts. “Articulating relationships to tribal communities is a really critical part of a Native Studies program. They aren’t just about studying Native people—contemporary Native experience is ongoing, and contemporary Native communities exist in Boston,” said Lone Fight.

Fonseca reiterated the importance of this.

“It is a moral imperative for Tufts to not only provide and support a Native studies program, as it is at every US university, but to actively provide and maintain space for Indigenous students to engage in freedom work at the university, which is not dictated or restricted by the administration.” This commitment should begin to take the form of the creation of the NAIS minor, and beyond that, a program and infrastructure needs to be established to support Native students and others working together towards decolonization.

DECEMBER 10, 2018 Tufts Observer 25

campus

the reduction of culture creating south asian spaces at tufts

By Eman Naseer

H

opefully one day we’ll have more specificity in South Asian groups on campus, but I’m glad we have what we do have,” remarked Meha Elhence, one of the three captains of the Tufts JumboRaas dance team.

The specificity that Elhence speaks of points to the myriad of distinct cultures within South Asia, each with their own customs, traditions, and practices. However, despite its immense diversity, South Asia is often portrayed homogenously in mainstream representations of the region.

This ubiquitous flattening of South Asia is both reflected and actively combatted by the different South Asian spaces on campus as they foster communities that hope to reflect a full, truthful image of South Asian identities.

Ayesha Jalal, a professor in the History Department at Tufts and the director of the Center for South Asian and Indian Ocean Studies, points to the region’s recent colonial history when explaining the reduction of South Asian identities that is typically observed in the United States.

“I think you’ll find anywhere, not just at Tufts, that when you think of South Asia you think of India, and when you think of 26 Tufts Observer december 10, 2018

India you think of Hinduism, and when you think of Hinduism you think of the Vedas,” Jalal said. “The point is that the reduction is there, especially in this country, because South Asia is India.”

As Jalal suggests, equating South Asia to India results in a narrow and often inaccurate interpretation of what it means of be brown. This limited understanding leaves little room for non-Indian South Asians such as Pakistanis, Bangladeshis, and Sri Lankans to exist and be recognized in America. However, as JT Mann, a sophomore of Punjabi-Sikh origin on the Tufts Bhangra team, points out, this omission not only erases non-Indian South Asians, but also flattens India itself. “You’re turning 1.3 billion people with hundreds of different cultures into one people, which isn’t true,” he said.

Mann points specifically to his experience on the Tufts Bhangra team to explain the importance of understanding the distinction between cultures within India, and how the American understand-

ing of South Asia can result in the loss of entire cultures all together. While the Tufts Bhangra team is referred to as one of the four “South Asian dance teams” on campus, Mann explained that the dance form is specific to Punjab, a predominately Sikh region within India. “I’ve always thought of it as a Sikh-Punjabi cultural component,” he said. However, as the only SikhPunjabi on the team, Mann has often felt disappointed by the loss of the dance’s cultural significance at Tufts.

campus “It’s a fine line because it is a dance team on a college campus so people go to it to dance, but there are cultural components,” he stated. He mentioned the turbans worn by the team as an example.

“The people who were dancing wore turbans because they were Sikh, and yet not everyone knows why you wear a turban,” he explained. Mann went on to express the complicated burden he bears as the only Sikh on the team, saying at times he feels like it’s hard for him as a Sikh person to explain to other members the significance of wearing turbans.

While Mann praised his team’s captains for their attempts to create a dialogue surrounding the meaning of the dance, he also acknowledged the limitations of these attempts. Despite the captains’ best efforts of relaying the cultural significance of Bhangra to the team, Mann pointed out the key distinction between being raised within a culture and learning it later in life from the outside.

“Even if you have learned the culture, it’s a different experience from being in the culture and having grown up with it,” he

said. “I think our captains were really good about telling us what certain moves mean, but I think a lot of the times it wasn’t them knowing it; rather it was them translating a culture that they had learned themselves.”

However, this critique, as Mann suggests, is separate from the concerns often voiced about people of non-South Asian descent being on the team. “If you really want to boil it down, not all South Asian people are even of the same culture, so it’s not like it’s even a South Asian dance team.” And yet at Tufts, Bhangra is viewed as exactly that: one of the four South Asian dance teams on campus. In Mann’s view, this imprecise labeling is indicative of a “bigger problem of South Asian community.”

Elhence, on the other hand, had come to view the style of JumboRaas as completely distinct from the traditionally Gujrati dance form of Garba and Raas that the team is modeled on. Elhence explained that while Raas is traditionally a Gujarati dance performed at festivals and weddings, the way in which it is performed in competitive college circuits is extremely different. The focus on technique has made it so that “the choreography you see at a Raas competition you would never see at a social Garba or in India.”

In this way, Elhence explained that the type of dance JumboRaas performs is an evolved style that has become specific to Indian-Americans.

While both Mann and Elhence spoke fondly of the South Asian community they have gained through their involvement

“Despite its immense diversity, south asia is often portrayed homogenously in mainstream representations of the region.”

ART COURTESY OF EMAN NASEER

with their respective dance groups, this community is contingent on performance and skill. For South Asians at Tufts who are looking for a space that is not social or performance based, South Asian Perspectives and Conversations, commonly referred to as SAPAC, offers a politically minded South Asian space. Iris Oliver, a senior at Tufts and a member of SAPAC’s executive board, explained the significance of having a non-performance based South Asian presence on campus. From her perspective, the dominance of South Asian dance teams coupled with the Tufts Association for South Asians’ annual culture show creates a “perception a lot of people have of what brown people at Tufts do.” Oliver said that “bringing another side of that has been important. Also, for me at least, it has been a really good source of community within the members of the club, and I think it’s nice because you don’t have to be good at dancing or xyz to join.”

SAPAC has consciously focused on highlighting other regions of South Asia in order to bring awareness to narratives that are often overshadowed by the extreme emphasis placed on India. Two years ago, the SAPAC e-board was a majority nonIndian South Asians, which Oliver noted was “pretty exciting because that never really happens.” She also mentioned that the presidents of SAPAC last year were Sri Lankan and Pakistani and that this leadership shaped a lot of the club’s discussions and focus. When discussing the perceptions of South Asia today and SAPAC’s role in deconstructing these, Oliver said, “it just ties back to if you look a certain way then that’s who you are and White people never really get put into one monolith. That might be obvious but I think it’s frustrating when people do that so we try as much as we can to be like, ‘No, that’s not what it is.’”

When it comes to the seeming difficulty of creating South Asian spaces on campus that maintain the diversity and nuances of South Asia itself, Professor Jalal provided some insight.

“This whole business of diversity can’t be maintained if you have certain kinds of attitudes,” Jalal said. “One attitude says that this diversity needs to be tolerated, the other says that diversity is a God-given reality–when you do that you have no choice but to accommodate it.” december 10, 2018 Tufts Observer 27

FEATURE

voices

Apparitions Pts I & II

By Sylvester Bracey and Desmond Fonseca

It was Tufts University which brought us to a fuller understanding of ourselves, in a perverse way. Our stories emerge from the trenches where silenced and forgotten pasts were buried. Something as simple as knowing that (one of) my (three) grandfather(s) was an amputee. Or that (one of) my (three known) aunt(s) was born of a secret marriage.

Sylvester – Part I For me there has always existed a barrier between me and that which made me — slavery has a way of destroying histories if you weren’t aware. Unable to trace my roots I made home in a blanket term, African American, because I’ve known nothing beyond that. Like a lot of Black people I grew up with I found myself laying claim to anything that felt like it would vaguely make sense. Often I would find that when asked, friends would say they descended from a particular set of groups. Everybody had decided that they were Native American, specifically Cherokee. Like them I was desperate to belong to something, to somebody, and found myself constructing false histories of my own.

I remember asking my parents at an early age where exactly we came from, as all of my white classmates were able to go back generations upon generations and lay claim to a specific country. They did so with a sense of pride, and being unable to do so myself was embarrassing. My parents weren’t able to do the same. About 5 generations back on either side the records ended in chains. Closed doors. And I learned it was just something I’d have to accept. I’d made peace with the fact that I’d never truly know where I came from, or from who.

My African American identity has always been rooted in bondage, because to go any further was to grasp at straws, to conjure ghosts. The irony of only being able to begin naming those ghosts since attending a university down the street from a plantation is not lost on me.

It was here, on this site of historical memory, that I gained access to the resources capable of showing me the very information that I thought I’d never thought I’d know. Tufts allowed me to trace my ancestry back to the plantation my ancestor Dennis was born on, and where his slave owning father Omera Flowers’ family originally came from.

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I am attempting to make sense of being from everywhere and nowhere, To fill in the gaps, But what does it mean to make space for that which has erased you? My first white ancestor appears all across the archives, his white descendants lay claim to him and are sure to include him in their family trees. I even saw a picture of his headstone in one of them. Through the records people have been able to piece together I’ve learned that my white Flowers ancestors originally came from Britain. I was able to trace the Flowers family back to France, noting the name change from De Flore. And before the De Flore family came to France, they lived in Germany for a few generations.

Omera’s white descendants claim all of this history but nowhere do I see them claim his 9 Black children. This erasure, this historically imposed silence, is painful. I’m trying to reckon with that which I never expected to know, knowing this history will never actually acknowledge me.

I wonder often what my grandfathers would think about me if we had ever met. How they think about me in whatever plane they reside in now. My skin’s darker, hair tighter, than all of theirs.

Desmond – Part II My father’s father came to Boston from Cabo Verde in the late 1980s, his census information says he did that as a white man, over a decade after his wife and children had made the transatlantic voyage. On his homeland of 3,000 people, Brava, he was a post office clerk under the Portuguese colonial government — his side hustles included work as a quasi-public defender, shop-owner, owner of a football (read: soccer) team, and spiritual medium. A staunch defender of the colonial government by the time he was an old man,

FEATURE

voices he was disgusted when independence was achieved alongside Guinea-Bissau, fearing his island nation of mestizos would be ruled by “those Blacks.” Or so his sons tell me.

My mother’s father is white, Portuguese. He met my grandmother while working as a prison guard in Portuguese-occupied Angola. Being a colonist in the 1960s was a good time. He met my mother when she was in her mid-20s; they got lunch together in Portugal for a couple of days and never saw each other again. He sends the occasional email to her asking how “his” grandchildren are doing. She doesn’t respond.

My mother’s adopted father, still not much of a father figure, was the first post-independence Angolan Minister of Defense.

At 13, her mother’s husband kicked her out of the house. She tells me it was because he resented her light skin — the product of colonial desire and abandonment — living in a Kimbundu community, but grows quiet when recounting it. So she fell into being the housekeeper/permanent babysitter of a family with immense wealth, with that same hue. I look more like him than any grandfather I can claim biological relation to.

While he was fighting a guerilla war to free Angola from colonial domination, the US state department, likely filled with graduates from our friendly-neighborhood Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy, was supplying the Portuguese fascists with bombs which read “Made in America.”

He was the African Marxist to those Portuguese colonialists and collaborators who make up my “blood” — as if such a concept exists. I’ve leaned into parts of myself which are makeshift branches of a family tree. Found comfort in the warm red Angolan dirt and warmer Black faces which make up a quarter of my ancestry. My father said he never could quite understand why I decided to be Black, or associate with “that side” of myself. Why I couldn’t just be mixed, “like the rest of my family,” like my father believes himself to be. He makes me ponder all the things I’ve chosen not to be. All the things that I never could be, which I’m glad I never really wanted.

Sylvester and Desmond We’ve dreamed of knowing a mother tongue uncorrupted by the induced apocalypses of Europe. And once my Kimbundu grandmother goes, should my family lose its own family tree, so might that dream. We’ve longed to be at home in a land outside of the monstrosity that brought our families here in the first place. Dreamed, of having names our African ancestors would recognize. Dreamed of giving our children names which can’t be broken down into Latin or Gaelic translations. To be Black and dare to imagine is to breathe life into that which history has attempted to destroy.

To be Black is to be a fugitive. From a history of apocalypse, from Blackness itself. (Or maybe it is fleeing the condition which Blackness has rendered one within). Whiteness is donning the sheriff ’s badge. Manning the prison bars. To reject any semblance of the fugitive, or at least attempt to. It’s fragile, easily diluted.

We have come to grips with these histories at an institution built on erasing those it claims to champion. On stolen land developed through stolen labor, we get the opportunity to flesh out our family histories. It was as simple as an ancestry.com or Jstor subscription. And through that we find only the history of those who have given us Christianized names, lightened up skin. You won’t find my African grandmother losing 5 children in the midst of colonial and neo-colonial occupation in a ProQuest database search. Nor will you find mention of my great grandmother’s fights with the klan in Alabama. But you could find several family trees with missing branches. It’s here that we locate ourselves, attempting to make sense of the silences, to fill the gaps. It’s all for who, for what, exactly?

PHOTOS COURTESY OF SYLVESTER BRACEY AND DESMOND FONSECA

december 10, 2018 Tufts Observer 29

That’s all, folks