Crimson staff writer
Rebecca E.J. Cadenhead
Associate Editor Rebecca E.J. Cadenhead can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.
In the apartment I lived in last spring, time didn’t exist. On weekdays I worked 9 to 5 at a virtual internship, a period of each day spent mostly in bed or at the kitchen table, staring at my computer screen. By the time I emerged to do things of my own volition, daylight had mostly disappeared. Days only felt real on the weekends.
Over the past two years, legal changes have shifted the landscape of policing in Massachusetts. But advocates have yet to see whether the reforms will be enough to disrupt the decades-old, entrenched systems of policing and surveillance they are meant to address — a system that takes for granted that certain children should be seen as threats.
In November 12, 2019, Flavia C. Peréa's six-year-old son was accused of sexual assault. The family has spent over a year trying to get his information out of state and municipal databases associating him with different forms of sexual assault. What, exactly, is going on?
Today, some of Reina-Landaverde’s colleagues call her the most powerful organizer at Harvard. It’s not hard to see why — in addition to working to consolidate union power around the University, she is also the face of one of the most visible immigrants’ rights organizations on campus, the Harvard TPS Coalition, which advocates for workers who hold Temporary Protected Status.
Christian Cooper, who has been intimately involved with movements for social justice his entire life, who has lived 57 years as a Black man in America, has always understood that a Harvard degree and a penchant for birdwatching can’t always protect him. In fact, he would probably view that observation as rather mundane. He would much rather focus on creating a system where he doesn’t need protection in the first place.