This week we are confronting once again the issues raised when controversial speakers are invited to campus by student groups.
Given the somewhat unpredictable nature of the Trump presidency, it might be easy to assume that his recent call to decriminalize homosexuality is just as inexplicable as the rest. After all, how could a president who elected an openly homophobic vice president, called for the dismissal of trans people from the military and slashed queer…
Contact Julia Gong at jxgong ‘at’ stanford.edu.
Authors’ Note: This article contains references to sexual assault, suicide, racism, homophobia, misogyny, violence, and quotes of offensive statements that may be troubling to some readers.
As an international student from the United Kingdom, I am no stranger to familiarising myself with the subtleties of language that differentiate my native tongue from that of the United States. In addition to the “chips” or “fries” conundrum and “pavement” versus “sidewalk” debate, I have recently become aware of another linguistic nuance that appears to carry much greater significance: person-first language. A phenomenon that has not yet reached the UK with such widespread impact as it has in the US, person-first language is a type of linguistic prescription linked largely to the disability community which seeks, as far as possible, to place the person before their diagnosis or impairment. For example, in this framework it would be preferable to use “persons with disabilities” over “disabled people”.
A question I have been asked many a time, upon divulging the fact that I am sad, or distressed, or scared, or feeling unstable. To answer the question: no. I am, in fact, in therapy. But I use a separate system that has proven to be much better for my overall mental health. That is not the point of this piece. What I want to talk about is my loved ones, and my not so loved ones, who feel that this is an appropriate question to ask.
It was a dark night — after midnight on Jan. 31 — when journalist Annie Correal received an unfamiliar email with the subject: “MDC Brooklyn Without Power.” The anonymous author wrote, “No heat no power no proper food. Over 72 hours in lockdown.”
Okay, I know what you’re thinking. That mischievous three-year old got into the paint-set again. She dipped her fingers in a couple of different colors and splat them on the canvas in random twirls. You’ll probably buy a $10 bright blue frame using your Amazon Prime account and put this in it. That way, she can laugh at her artistic proclivities when she’s older and has moved onto drawing female nudes in exquisite detail.