Someone told me, once, that location always precedes content. That where you are makes who you are. In other words, each space we pass through builds us as much as we build it. Places change, and we change with them. Do you remember your first day of classes here? Where you were? Who you were?
When a certain man who shall not be named—I’m not trying to get into a legal battle—threatened to sue the Tufts Daily, many of us, myself included, thought: Oh my god, it’s just a student newspaper, this is ridiculous. And the lawsuit is ridiculous—it’s ungrounded and will not stand trial. But there is something in
Last year proved to be a difficult one for this campus. To deny the Observer’s central role in this would be injudicious. While there are many lessons to be learned from the events that unfolded, one of the things it chiefly revealed to me was the power and responsibility we hold as a magazine. This
Over the past four years I have written some dozens of articles, poems, and pieces for the Tufts Observer. It’s been days of edits and interviews and lukewarm pizza and staring at fonts until well into morning. Here, in my final piece, I have nothing new to say, no breaking news. Instead I have a
I told my first story to a stuffed rabbit. Maybe you told yours to your ceiling as you lay on your back, resolutely refusing to take a nap, or maybe it was to your sister, who had been ignoring you too often after starting second grade. No matter who or what your audience was, you
Earlier this year we had a conversation on the Observer about journalistic integrity. We were concerned about fact checking, making sure our articles had enough interviews, and differentiating between opinion and fact. The first iteration of this conversation lasted for many hours late into a Monday night when every member of our staff had something
These past weeks have been full of activity and questions and motion. On campus, it’s that stressful time of the semester full of both scrambling and sluggishness. You can overhear students talking about how little they’ve slept, how many pages they have to write, how they can’t do dinner this week but maybe next week.
There’s an irony in returning to Tufts after a semester abroad. Typically, in stories, after long journeys, the protagonist returns older, wiser, and more sure of him or herself. I’m thinking of Odysseus in The Odyssey, Leopold Bloom in Ulysses, and Frodo Baggins in Lord of the Rings. But this hasn’t been the case for