His name is Major Henry Rathbone. They say that he was there when the President was shot—that he was an inch away from the assassin, close enough to see the veins on murderer’s hand as he pulled the trigger. Once upon a time Major Rathbone was favored by destiny. Now he sits in his study,
By Molly Rubin If there’s one thing I’ve learned while working as a bartender at the Five Horses Tavern, it’s that there is a beer out there for everybody. For those of us who don’t leave campus very often, it’s sometimes hard to remember that beer exists beyond the confines of frat party kegs
I am part of the Jewish tribe, a member of the Jewish race; I’m one of God’s Chosen people, blessed with the duty of being part of one of the oldest communities in the world. We’ve been persecuted, celebrated, reviled, admired, ghettoized, idolized, demonized—glorified as the defenders of freedom, vilified as the barrier to peace. I was born into an exclusive society and strengthened by its marginalization. We are a race, a culture, a religion, and a nation.
Starting my college search, I was certain about only two requirements for my college-to-be: an established engineering program and an administration that supported engineering students in studying abroad. Studying abroad while earning a B.S. in engineering is difficult, and I knew the field of potential universities would be limited; so that summer when I listened to admissions officer Daniel Grayson pitch Tufts’ School of Engineering, my eyes lit up. He assured us that if one wanted to be an engineer and study abroad, Tufts was the place to do it. He proceeded to highlight Tufts’ mission statement of providing an invaluable education that fostered a “global perspective,” encouraging liberal arts, science, and engineering students alike to explore the world. I applied Early Decision I to Tufts under those pretenses. Two years later, however, rounding out the fall of my junior year, I cannot in good conscience advise any prospective engineering student to select Tufts if they, too, wish to study abroad.
As a non-American who recently moved to America, my first impression of Thanksgiving was certainly positive—a time when American families of all religious and historical backgrounds gather to give thanks. Right?
Sometimes in college it’s hard to figure out who you are, where you’re going or what you want to do with yourself when the time comes to graduate into the real world. We get it. It’s hard. But for this week’s issue, here is a little inspiration to jumpstart your thoughts and ideas. These
Tufts, with its focus on international issues and social activism, is constantly teaching students about global problems and social injustices. But to make a difference, students need to go beyond this classroom involvement. This December, the OneWorld Global Crafts Bazaar will give students the opportunity to delve into the issues of fair trade and socially responsible
Just minutes after Danica May Camacho was born last month, her mother’s small hospital room in Manila, Philippines was brimming over with dozens of reporters vying for a photo of the newborn. Danica, born at 11:58pm on October 30th, was chosen by the UN Population Fund to symbolize the 7 billionth person on our planet. But
On November 8, Mississippi voters rejected a proposition that would have declared that “personhood” begins at the moment of conception. In a state where abortion is so restricted that only one clinic performs the procedure, Proposition 26 would have made abortion and certain forms of birth control, in effect, murder. The proposed amendment defined a
By Anna Seeman Tufts senior Justine Bowe sat down with the Tufts Observer to talk about her latest musical project, Photocomfort, a combination of soothing vocals, haunting lyrics, and catchy instrumental rhythms that get you hooked. Bowe admits, “I only want people to want to listen. I don’t want to make people listen.”
When Harvard professor Lisa Randall spoke in Harvard Square this past Tuesday, it felt like the cramped Brattle Theater kept fluctuating between unbelievably huge and miniscule size. “As a particle physicist, I look at the unimaginably large and the unimaginably small,” said Randall. “I’ll do my best not to make your head spin.” What was
This might be more information than I should share in an Observer article, but my mother went into labor with me in the middle of Thanksgiving dinner on November 22, 1990. And sometime between four and five in the morning (nobody knows) on November 23, I came careening out into the world on a wave