Remembering to be thankful: A life of gratitude
Nov. 16, 2017In 2004, after serving as a college dean for two years, I asked my director of human resources for input on my performance.
In 2004, after serving as a college dean for two years, I asked my director of human resources for input on my performance.
You are woken up by the sound of your parents and grandparents chatting loudly and energetically over coffee at the kitchen table and the smell of pies being prepped for baking. You’re still tired, but you get out of bed anyway so you don’t miss any of the family fun.
When I first read Tom Stoppard’s play, “Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead,” I was in what I like to dub the first great existential crisis of my life. It was my senior year of high school and the only thing that gave me any sense of purpose in my life was focusing on college applications. Getting into college — my top choice, specifically — was the only goal I had. After that, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to study or what I wanted to do. I was beginning to realize the be-all and end-all of my high school life was not the be-all and end-all of life.
The saying “Jack of all trades, master of none” might apply to most areas of life, but I don’t believe art is one of them. Out of all the types of skills to have, artistic competency has to be one of the most malleable because of its inclusion of more than simply technical ability. Making broad generalizations about anything creatively done is something worth straying away from, but I think there is something to be said about what makes truly great art.
The NCAA has a microscopic amount of chill.
I’m prone to losing. Just this week, I walked right into a table in Midtown, which left me with a fist-sized bruise on my hip and a drink spilled all over me. I also accidentally texted a screenshot of a conversation to the person I was having that conversation with. I started uncontrollably crying at a Bon Iver concert and, like all of you, watched the Gators lose.
I don’t think the only problem with Richard Spencer is that he is a white supremacist. The problem with Spencer is that he provides a bogus answer to a legitimate and enigmatic question academia has left unexplored: What does it mean to be white in 21st century America?
Up until recently, I thought most classes in college weren’t composed of multiple choice tests. I figured college was a place you got your hands dirty and learned how to deal with real-life material, as you would in your professional field. While my major (journalism) and some others actually do this, I feel most of the majors offered at UF are lacking when it comes to providing students with real world experiences. It’s time we start talking about this.
It’s about that time during Fall semester when we all start to lose our minds. The reality of final exams and the end of the semester is looming over us, and the fate of our final grades hangs in the balance of how the next few weeks goes. Needless to say, every student within the general vicinity of UF right now is stressed beyond belief.
Out of all the unpopular opinions I’ve formed about sports, there isn’t one I stand by more firmly than this: I hate the College Football Playoff.
You may have heard of the term gaslighting. It can happen between supposed friends, between an employee and their superior or in any other relationship. Whether within our own student organizations or on a national scale, it happens every day.
Last Wednesday, I was at my usual weekly Undergraduate Philosophy Society meeting (shameless plug, check us out on Facebook). That evening, the discussion centered around how we should attempt to understand bullying and how to prevent kids from doing it. Quickly, the group of us recognized the ways in which bullying mirrors — and frequently reflects — different phobias and other bad “-isms” like homophobia, racism, sexism and transphobia.
Jamie (which is not the real name of the victim) woke up on the floor next to a couch she didn’t recognize. The party was a few hours old.
White supremacy is on the rise. Not just in the U.S. but in nations across the globe.
COLUMBIA, S.C. — It started, like most good moments for Florida’s football team this season, with a punt.
It looked bad. Malik Zaire crumbled after taking the snap and shifting his weight to left leg.
Here’s a statement that goes without saying: Football can be an extremely brutal sport to play.
About two weeks ago, during Randy Shannon’s first day as interim coach of the Florida Gators, he began to explain how he would — and would not — be approaching the remainder of UF’s season.
It’s been more than a week since a car hit my scooter while I was driving, but I can’t stop replaying the moment in my head. I can still hear the car’s brakes screeching futily. I can still feel the road scraping my hands and my back as I tried to catch myself. I remember looking at one of my best friends, who was riding on the back, with tears and shock in both of our eyes. Gasoline was spewing from the scooter — which my helmet was resting safely inside of.
I don’t know if it’s because the holidays are coming up, or if there’s something in the air, but a large portion of my friends have recently gotten engaged. Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s fantastic. Really. I am so happy they found and picked the person they want to be with for the rest of their lives. But at the same time, it has left a lot of my single friends feeling like they don’t have their lives together.