Crimson opinion writer
Ellie H. Ashby
The entire college ranking system is a function of wealth that disenfranchises institutions that serve systematically marginalized communities (HBCUs) and elevates institutions (via the college rankings algorithm) that admit white, wealthy students.
Final clubs just scratch the surface of exclusivity at Harvard. The problem with making final clubs the sacrificial lamb in our conversations on Harvard exclusivity is that this lets all other manifestations of our hypercompetitiveness slither under the radar.
Our campus is at its most inclusive, most alive, and most beautiful when Harvard Yard and Harvard Square seem to bleed into one. After Oct. 11, unlike the rest of The Crimson’s Editorial Board, we look forward to seeing the gate restrictions disappear: Harvard University should never close its gates.
What the “Houston to Harvard” mindset taught me is that dismissing the South as intrinsically “bad” is unhelpful. It’s a disposition founded upon convenience and situational truths. I am sick of the North using the South as its scapegoat in order to preserve its progressive image. There is so much more to this conversation than the convenient binary of the South being “bad” and the North being “good.”
This inherent contradiction of listening to marginalized voices when it is beneficial to us and ignoring them when it makes us uncomfortable is not anti-racist. It’s engaging in the ignorant and ingrained societal habit of moral licensing — checking the box of being “not racist” in one category and then refusing to change your behavior in any other instance.
Covid-19 is an ongoing, collective trauma. It has taken lives and livelihoods, wiped away new memories and new beginnings, induced states of repetition and depression, forced conclusions and endings before we were ready to say goodbye. Every one of us has lost someone, and every one of us has lost a little bit of our own life.
Everything is bigger in Texas, and love for one another is no exception. Growing up within your weirdly-shaped state lines means we Texans are sharpened by blades of dogged determination and familial devotion, and it is because of this that I know you can weather this storm.