AUGUST 26, 2022 DEAR HOYAS, By the Editorial Board HOUSE MUSIC IS BACK, WITH CREDIT TO ITS ROOTS By Isabel Shepherd WHAT GETVIOLENCEAROUNDNARRATIVESTHEGUNIND.C.WRONG By Franziska Wild
2 THE GEORGETOWN VOICE “The aboutchoice,simplymovementpro-choicecannotbeaboutbecausethepro-lifemovementhasneverbeensimplylife.” PG. 6 Contents contact us 3700GeorgetownBoxLeaveyeditor@georgetownvoice.com424571066UniversityOSt.NWWashington,DC20057 The opinions expressed in The Georgetown Voice do not necessarily represent the views of the administration, faculty, or students of Georgetown University, unless specifcally stated. Columns, advertisements, cartoons, and opinion pieces do not necessarily refect the views of the Editorial Board or the General Board of The Georgetown Voice. The university subscribes to the principle of responsible freedom of expression of its student editors. All materials copyright The Georgetown Voice, unless otherwise indicated. August 26, 2022 Volume 55 | Issue 1 4 editorials Dear Hoyas, EDITORIAL BOARD 5 voices Georgetown must make pre-os more accessible for studentsmarginalized BRANDON WU 6 voices Centerintersectionalityinthepro-choicemovement ANDREA HO 7 news Woes:GeorgetownTransportationWhenpublictransitisnotsopublic MARGARET HARTIGAN, JUPITER HUANG, AND NORA SCULLY 10 news Back To Its Former Glory: Epi added to meal plan, expands hours NORA SCULLY 11 halftime leisure Five Glee covers that are better than the original (and counting) MAX ZHANG, SARAH CRAIG, AJANI JONES, THEOFILOU,FRANCESCAMAYAKOMINSKY 12 leisure Rebirthed:Beyoncé, What Renaissance means for her legacy and more MAX ZHANG 13 leisure House music is back, with credit to its roots ISABEL SHEPHERD 14 sports Young expectationsamidaimingHoyashighevenhigherforsoccerseason CARLOS RUEDA AND JO STEPHENS 15 sports Unicorn Town: Alumni’s Americandocumentarynewshowcasesfootballabroad TIM TAN design by dane tedder Editor-In-Chief Max Zhang Managing Editor Annabella Hoge internal resources Executive Editor for Resources, Diversity, and Inclusion Andrea Ho Editor for Sexual Violence Coverage Paul James Service Chair Devyn Alexander Social Chair Sarah Watson news Executive Editor Jupiter Huang Features Editor Margaret Hartigan News Editor Nora Scully Assistant News Editors Anthony Bonavita, Joanna Li, Franziska Wild opinion Executive Editor Sarah Craig Voices Editor Kulsum Gulamhusein Assistant Voices Editors Ella Bruno, Lou Jacquin, Aminah Malik Editorial Board Chair Annette Hasnas Editorial Board William Hammond, Annabella Hoge, Paul James, Allison O'Donnell, Sarah Watson, Alec Weiker, Max Zhang leisure Executive Editor Lucy Cook Leisure Editor Chetan Dokku Assistant Editors Pierson Cohen, Maya Kominsky, Isabel Shepherd Halftime Editor Adora Adeyemi Assistant Halftime LeisureEditors Ajani Jones, Francesca Theoflou, Hailey Wharram sports Executive Editor Carlos Rueda Sports Editor Tim Tan Assistant Editors Andrew Arnold, Thomas Fischbeck, Nicholas Riccio Halftime Editor Lucie Peyrebrune Assistant Halftime Editors Jo Stephens design Executive Editor Connor Martin Spread Editors Dane Tedder, Graham Krewinghaus Cover Editor Sabrina Shafer Assistant Design Editors Alex Giorno, Cecilia Cassidy, Deborah Han, Ryan Samway copy Copy Chief Maanasi Chintamani Assistant Copy Editors Devyn Alexander, Donovan Barnes, Jenn Guo multimedia Podcast Editor Jillian Seitz Assistant Podcast Editor Alexes Merritt Photo Editor Jina Zhao online Website Editor Tyler Salensky Assistant Website Editor Drew Lent Social Media Editor Allison DeRose business General Manager Megan O’Malley Assistant Manager of Accounts & Sales Akshadha Lagisetti Assistant Manager of Alumni & Outreach Gokul Sivakumar support Contributing Editors Sophie Tafazzoli Staf Contributors Nathan Barber, Nicholas Budler, Romita Chattaraj, Leon Chung, Elin Choe, Erin Ducharme, Christine Ji, Julia Kelly, Lily Kissinger, Ashley Kulberg, David McDaniels, Amelia Myre, Anna Sofa Neil, Owen Posnett, Omar Rahim, Brett Rauch, Caroline Samoluk, Michelle Serban, Amelia Shotwell, Isabelle Stratta, Amelia Wanamaker on the cover “welcome back” SABRINA SHAFFER 8 features What the narratives around gun violence in D.C. get wrong FRANZISKA WILD
3AUGUST 26, 2022 Page 3 An eclectic collection of jokes, puns, doodles, playlists, and news clips from the collective mind of the Voice staf. → JOIN THE VOICE → EDIT OR WELCOME Dear Voice readers, Welcome back to Georgetown. To watch campus spring back into motion feels, in some ways, surreal: no longer are we completely learning to walk again as a university, but are now debating ways to run. The return to school also means the Voice is back, full-force, pages and website alike brimming with reporting and commentary that we’re proud to present to our campus. We hope you join us in telling stories this year—as sources, writers, and readers. We’re so lucky to have you here, and can’t wait to build community together. Love, Max and Annie tedderdanebyfucker"little"evilkrewinghaus;grahambycrossword 41: What, in Greek 42: Epoch 43: Aligns 44: ER employees 45: Much-politicized, little-understood educational movement, briefy 46: Punk rock ofshoot 47: A word in French? 48: Witness 51: Biblical book after Exod. 53: “Keep me in the ___” 55: Refrain syllables, often while 57:skippingMost frequent newspapers 61: Infuriated 62: Elongate 63: What we at the Voice give warmly to (7-Across and 36-Across) 64: Prime time DOWN: 1: High card, in only some games 2: These “bros” at Georgetown are reigning Big East champs 3: Baseball great Mel 4: One of the four at-least-decent freshman dorms, along with 15-Down, 34-Down, and 45-Down 5: Vigilant 6: “Ditto!” 7: Glass-half-empty kinda guy 8: Birds on Canadian one-dollar coins 9: 10:ComparablePleaatsea 11: Dirt, put nicely 12: Change for a fve 13: Nixon’s pardoner 15: See 4-Down 22: Absorb 24: Song easily stuck in one’s head 25: Word with “wed” or “opened” 26: Secret agent 27: Well-ftting 28: When April showers pay of, per 29:rhymeState with conviction 30: Polo or T 31: Rocks, in Latin 32: Listings on an airport timetable 34: See 4-Down 37: Network headquartered at 30 Rockefeller Plaza 38: “___ the season…” 39: “Illmatic” rapper 45: See 4-Down 46: Dodge 47: Wavy-patterned fabric 48: Hearty soup 49: Sea eagle 50: British nobleman above viscount 51: Mar-a-___ 52: K-6 school, briefy 54: What one swears upon entering 56:ofceFond du ___, Wisconsin 58: “___ be my pleasure!” 59: Portuguese novelist _____ de 60:QueirozMeek ACROSS: 1: “Hi”s, in Hawaii 7: With 36-Across, the newly arrived 14:frst-yearsSecond-most common native tongue in Spain 16: Mother to Sean Lennon 17: The X in “X Games” 18: More obstreperous 19: Cold one in a cafe 20: Tavern 21: '60s psychedelic 22: ___ for tat 23: 60 in a min. 25: Grandma, palindromically 26: “___ man walks into a bar…” 27: Accumulate 32: Exclamation upon seeing a mouse, perhaps 33: Cat’s contented sound 35: Turkish title 36: See 7-Across 40: Cover story, in an interrogation room → GRAHAM 'S ANTI-DARNALL CROSSWORD → WEL COME BACK GOSSIP RAT Interested in joining the Voice ? We’re looking for new contributors (as always)! As an open-membership, no application publication, the Voice is dedicated to making its work accessible for new members of all different backgrounds. Scan this QR code to get involved:
While this transition is often made to be difficult because of Georgetown’s institutional status quo, our most powerful communities are stronger for it. So much of the real work of being a Georgetown student means building community in spite of university pitfalls and social inequities, rallying behind our peers for the betterment of our university as a whole. This sort of solidarity can be rare—but real change and reform can only happen with it in place. Building community is especially important given the loss of institutional memory catalyzed by the pandemic. This year, the Class of 2023 is the only class of students that has known a pre-pandemic Georgetown. What Georgetown was then isn’t what it is now; so to truly welcome you here, we have to acknowledge that the “college experience” you have heard so much about isn’t what it used to be. And instead of mourning the loss of a hypothesized experience—that was flawed to begin with—we now have an opportunity to make things better. A lot of what we said last year holds true today: Be gentle and patient with one another, don’t be afraid to try new things out, and reshape the status quo. But if the last school year was a year of relearning how to do college, this is the year of challenging it. For one, we hope this year involves redeveloping our political willpower as a student body. The aforementioned loss of institutional memory has disrupted the momentum of student activism on issues such as reparations to the descendants of the GU272+ and improved sexual assault resources for Black survivors—two recent examples of powerful student protests at Georgetown. While the last two years saw activism in different ways, from advocating for a center for disabled students on campus to protesting for worker’s rights, the engagement and allyship just haven’t been the same. More often than not, the emotional labor of activism on these issues falls on the students who are most affected by them—those who, amid the pandemic, have already been disproportionately burdened. We appreciate these students’ efforts, but appreciation isn’t enough. This labor should be shouldered by all. No one should be allowed to pass through the halls of Georgetown without more closely reckoning with its problematic past—a past that continues to suffuse through deeply embedded structural inequities—and engaging with the ongoing reparations movement. No one is exempt from understanding how they have benefited from Georgetown’s history of transgressions toward Black and Indigenous people. Educating ourselves is all of our responsibilities, but simply learning about a problematic past isn’t enough.
4 THE GEORGETOWN VOICE EDITORIALS graphic by elin choe; layout by dane tedder Dear Hoyas, BY THE EDITORIAL BOARD W elcome, and welcome back! Every August to kick off the year, the Voice Editorial Board likes to offer some advice for both incoming and returning students. In the past, our welcome editorials have emphasized the place of students here. Everyone tells you that you’ll “find your place”—but the path toward belonging can be harrowing and nonlinear. It’s no secret navigating Georgetown can be a daunting task for many, especially for students of color, first-generation lowincome students, disabled students, nonbinary students, and students with other marginalized identities. And yet programs that actually benefit these students the most often lack proper funding or attention; inclusivity initiatives get tied up in bureaucracy; what is just is superseded by what is profitable. The university has a lot of work to do in making this place safe for all who come to the Hilltop, and expecting a seamless transition into an idealized “college experience” is a little ambitious.
Work on racial justice remains especially important. Campus is littered with monuments to the institution of slavery, the administration has made many performative efforts at reconciliation, and racism notoriously conditions Georgetown’s academia and cultural spaces. We implore you to not just educate yourselves on how Georgetown has failed its marginalized students, but to demand real change so that maybe one day we will finally have a Georgetown that deserves us. Listen to your peers, provide allyship, engage in difficult conversations, and build protests. You are here now, so ask for better. Part of that activism means looking out for your community in small ways, and keeping each other healthy during the pandemic is one of them. As masking and testing guidelines evolve, we ought to hold respect for the people around us by testing regularly, communicating openly, and honoring masking norms. This is how we can build a strong and resilient community more equipped to take on other challenges. To returning students, your guidance here as leaders and allies is crucial. There is a lot to change about the Georgetown pre-pandemic status quo that so few of us remember, but that doesn’t mean there is nothing to keep. Seniors: Consider the good that has been disrupted, be it the aforementioned passion for activism or the pre-Zoom sense of community fostered by a late-night Epi run, and take it upon yourself to keep those things alive. Maybe the key to finding your place here, whether it’s your first year or your last, is to find—or build—a community that might be entirely new, even if that may require vulnerability. College is, after all, an experiment in self-discovery. There isn’t a criterion you have to meet to qualify that you have had a “college experience,” because you define your college experience for yourself. Just because your college experience hasn’t been, or won’t be, “traditional” doesn’t make it any less valuable. Seniors and juniors, the challenge of the pandemic has brought about losses. Take this year as an opportunity to leave an impact and make this university what you want it to be before you leave it. And to first and second year students, contribute to the change you want to see and deserve. So this year, we won’t tell you that we’re certain you will love it here. Instead, we encourage transforming your time here— good and bad—into the will to make this place better.
G With love, and hope for what comes next, The Voice Editorial Board
As a predominantly white institution with a student body where over 50 percent of students' families have an income in the top five percent of American households, Georgetown needs to increase access to these important resources for students of marginalized identities. While BUILD highly encourages students of color and first-generation students to apply, each of the other pre-os do not indicate priority for admitting underrepresented students. Only the one-day Prelude offers open admission to all students, with programming that pales in comparison to weeklongGivenpre-os.the significant benefits that marginalized students would gain from participating in preos, they should fill a large majority, if not all, of the space in these programs. However, a pre-o application not built for marginalized students benefits socioeconomically privileged applicants. For one, class differences have impacts on how accessible pre-os are. In terms of pure finances, the Georgetown Outdoor PreOrientation Program (GOPOP) costs at least $400. The high price of the program, the lack of any pre-o financial aid, and the fact that GOPOP may take students away from paid summer work could prevent low-income students fromEvenapplying.though the majority of pre-os are free, marginalized students are still at a disadvantage in the application process because they often have to navigate the new and bureaucratically complex world of applications without a built-in support system. More privileged students often have access to more support on any type of application, as well as past opportunities that make them more competitiveMarginalizedapplicants.students having reduced access to pre-os follows the trend of other inequities they will face at Georgetown. These same students may face future applications to clubs or special programs that don’t heavily factor in their identities and circumstances and may continue to struggle to find communities they trust. Restructuring pre-os to be more accessible would further equity goals at Georgetown. For instance, one potential model to follow is the Community Scholars Program (CSP). Marginalized students often struggle when entering college due to the lack of generational knowledge and difficulties finding spaces and communities they can trust. By providing a five-week headstart for first-generation, low-income students of color, CSP serves as an example of a program—while not a pre-o—that evens the playing field by making sure marginalized students get Georgetownsupport.should consider centering equity within the pre-o admissions process, with the prioritization of marginalized students for pre-o spots. An updated pre-o application should include a standardized question giving students the opportunity to highlight their unique identities and circumstances that could make their transition to Georgetown difficult, necessitating access to the resources of pre-os. This would ensure that all program coordinators hear important perspectives from marginalized students. Finally, modeling off of UChicago’s summer programming, Georgetown could create specific pre-os for international students who currently do not have a chance to build trust within a community before NSO. Recruitment is also a significant area where pre-os fall short. Georgetown does not actively promote pre-os in welcome letters, nor does it conduct specific targeted outreach for its pre-o programs. More forms of outreach would bring in more diverse students. Georgetown could expand its Diversity and Access program within the Office of Undergraduate Admissions or have student Ambassadors in the Georgetown Admissions Ambassador Program focus on targeted pre-o outreach: sending emails, mailers, and making phone calls to committed Georgetown students who hold underrepresented identities. We must restructure pre-os to focus on prioritizing the recruitment and admission of students of underrepresented communities at Georgetown—including but not limited to firstgeneration, low-income, Black, Latino, AAPI, Indigenous, and LGBTQ+ students. Marginalized students should have access to mentorship, service opportunities, and community without the barrier of an application process not built for them.
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Georgetown must provide more resources to help underprivileged and underrepresented students succeed at Georgetown—and that starts with making pre-os more equitable.
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While New Student Orientation (NSO) kicked off last week, some Hoyas had already settled into their dorms through pre-orientation programs (pre-os). Leadership & Beyond (L&B), First-Year Orientation to Community Involvement (FOCI), and Business Undergraduates Invested in Leadership Development (BUILD) are just a few of the programs introducing new students to life on the Hilltop with some key tools they need to succeed. Yet, the students who would benefit from these programs most—marginalized students— often can’t access them. Pre-os are themed one-week co-curricular programs centered around a common interest, occurring right before New Student Orientation. While pre-os provide participants with social integration and important opportunities for growth before the year even begins, the limited number of spots combined with an application that doesn’t explicitly prioritize marginalized students perpetuate inequities already present at Georgetown.Thisyear,Georgetown offered six week-long pre-os with unique programming for new students, with YLEAD on hiatus. Programs like BUILD provided students an introduction to careers in business and finance, and L&B helped students build and apply leadership skills at Georgetown. Each of these pre-os also advertised a wide range of professional development offerings, from exclusive site visits and alumni meetings to critical engagement and exposure to social justice activists and community Communitywork.service, leadership, and activism on campus aren’t often thoroughly addressed during NSO, so it’s critical that the information covered in pre-os is more accessible to new students who may not have had access to education about those opportunities in the first place. Those who miss out on these programs are put at an immediate disadvantage in terms of opportunities for external professional connections and mentorship from upperclassmen.Eachpre-oattendee also gains a chance to bond with a close-knit group of other new Hoyas before meeting the rest of their peers, which is especially pivotal given the struggle of finding friends when new students arrive to campus. Pre-os play a crucial role for attendees’ social adjustment, with a more tailored view of Georgetown untold at NSO, safer spaces for students to do formation work, specifically trained mentors available to students’ first semesters at Georgetown, and more. Incoming students can apply to and rank their top three pre-orientation programs sometime between mid-May and mid-June, and are notified of a decision in July. Beyond this, there is no further transparency around the pre-o admissions process. Acceptance rates are not published, and there is little clarity as to what programs are seeking in applicants.
BY BRANDON
Georgetown must make pre-os more accessible for marginalized students
5AUGUST 26, 2022 VOICES graphic by alex giorno and allison derose; layout by dane tedder
To begin with, a higher percentage of abortion seekers in the U.S. are people of color. The Center of Disease Control and Prevention reported that the abortion rate for Black women was almost four times that of white women in 2019. This is primarily because communities of color, especially Black and Latinx communities, encounter lower access to quality contraceptives and sex education.
“I f I wanted the government in my uterus, I’d fuck a Senator.”
VOICES THE GEORGETOWN VOICE6 design by jina zhao; photo courtesy of mica powers/@mica4life
In addition, Black women have a maternal mortality rate some three times higher than white women. Other marginalized communities, such as Indigenous people, trans people, low-income people, and immigrants, have also struggled to access inclusive healthcare. As a result, slogans that try to be quirky or funny can counterintuitively subvert their objectives, as they downplay the gravity of the impact of abortion bans and make a spectacle of a critical fight. In the case of some protesters, particularly those who don’t face discrimination within the healthcare system, their ignorance and insensitivity are obscene—whether it is wearing pink pussy hats or dressing up in costumes from The Handmaid’s Tale. For many Black, Indigenous, incarcerated, undocumented, disabled, and lowincome people, the dystopian world painted in The Handmaid’s Tale is their lived reality—not some farfetched nightmarish scenario.
Likewise, advocacy of mandatory vasectomies is reminiscent of eugenic laws aimed at selectively breeding people of certain desired traits. Even if it is to prove a point, this move centers whiteness and ableism, overlooking documented experiences of forced sterilization imposed on Black, Indigenous, and disabled people. Not to mention, mandatory vasectomies would be the opposite of bodily autonomy and everything the reproductive justice movement stands for.
Among the droves of protestors demonstrating against the reversal of Roe v. Wade, it wasn’t unusual to come across such signs. Sure, these slogans might elicit a few dry laughs and garner more than a few retweets, but when held without consideration toward the far-reaching implications of abortion bans, they hint at a glaring lack of intersectionality within the pro-choice movement.
While abortion bans undeniably affect every person capable of becoming pregnant, they disproportionately affect some groups of people— notably Black, Indigenous, and people of color, LGBTQ+ and disabled people, and people from low-income backgrounds—because systemic inequalities permeate every aspect of society, including abortion bans. Consequently, abortion bans must be recognized for what they are: an attack on racial and economic justice. A lot of popular messaging—like the aforementioned pro-choice slogans—don’t actually resonate with those most vulnerable. Rhetoric that merely targets the patriarchy assumes the patriarchy is the sole obstacle to widespread abortion access, neglecting other firmly embedded structural obstacles like racism and classism. Other slogans that claim to speak for “all women” exclude trans and non-binary people from the pro-choice movement when they, too, have abortions. In an effort to herd the masses behind the banner of reproductive justice, the pro-choice movement has been reduced to catchy rhetoric and generalized messaging that homogenizes the experiences of abortion seekers when their (incredibly personal) experiences can be—and tend to be— anything but similar.
One reason that explains the exclusion of marginalized communities from prevailing abortion narratives is that the pro-choice movement has been saturated with white feminism. Social justice movements historically gain traction when it becomes clear that the issues they represent concern white people. For example, the modern LGBTQ+ movement has— to a degree—been whitewashed, with Pride month being an increasingly corporatized celebration that disregards real challenges confronted by queer people of color. In regard to the pro-choice movement, white women have dominated the discourse around reproductive justice. With their experiences frequently seen as the default of all abortion seekers, it comes as no surprise that many marginalized communities feel estranged and disconnected from the “mainstream” prochoiceWithmovement.theoverturning of Roe v. Wade, many people who previously had the privilege to be complacent about abortion rights are showing up to pro-choice demonstrations for the first time. However, the fight for reproductive justice has been going on for years—led by the most marginalized communities, especially Black organizers. New involvement must amplify the voices of those that are most affected. After all, it would be naïve to pretend the abortion debate is purely ideological. If the prolife movement was really about conservative Christian values and the sanctity of life, “prolife” Republicans would exercise greater political will to be unreservedly pro-life in issues such as easing the baby formula shortage and preventing gun violence. At its core, abortion bans are about power and control, and keeping poor people— especially poor people of color—in poverty. While poor people are criminalized and imprisoned for terminating pregnancies, wealthy people will always have the means to access safe, legal abortions. Therefore, the focus of many prochoice slogans on protecting abortion rights and promoting family planning are far too narrow. The pro-choice movement cannot simply be about choice, because the pro-life movement has never been simply about life. To be an effective pro-choice movement, we must contend with the root of abortion bans—the powerful attempting to cling onto their power. Failure to emphasize intersectionality weakens the pro-choice movement by leaving marginalized communities feeling overshadowed and discouraged. Since abortion bans are inextricably tied to white supremacy and capitalism, our response to them must address race, class, sexuality, and more. It isn’t enough to just have abortion rights: We must have reproductive justice. Not only does the latter necessitate access to abortions, but it also insists upon rights to bodily autonomy and self-determination. This includes the right to choose when to have children, as well as the right to raise children in healthy environments— rights that are unequivocally available across all communities.Inorder to have any meaningful solidarity, we have to advocate for abortion rights in a more encompassing way that accounts for broader power dynamics and systemic inequalities. Supporting reproductive justice means having difficult conversations about the heteropatriarchy, but also white supremacy, capitalism, and ableism, and educating ourselves on how these systems of oppression are all interconnected. Without these dialogues, abortion rights advocacy will continue to ring hollow.
Center intersectionality in the pro-choice movement
BY ANDREA HO
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Student Transportation Woes: When public transit is not so public
BY MARGARET HARTIGAN, JUPITER HUANG, AND NORA SCULLY
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A series of post-COVID staffing shortages, combined with a strike due to the lack of fair wages for Circulator drivers, resulted in significant summer delays. A recent deal between the Circulator and the drivers’ union could resolve some of these delays.
“Hopefully,Commons.now that we are out of the summer break period, [the administration will] be more responsive,” Vincent wrote in an email to the Voice “Our goal is to get the trial period up and running by the fall of 2023.” In the meantime, there’s optimism to be had regarding public transportation in the Georgetown neighborhood. The G2, 33, 31, 38B, D6, and Union Station Circulator buses are valuable nearby networks, no matter the inconsistencies. With a Metrocard and a little planning, students can still make public transportation a way to pop the Georgetown bubble.
7AUGUST 26, 2022 NEWS
Proponents of the referendum argue that it would motivate students to explore more of the District and would support the wider D.C. economy as it continues to emerge from the pandemic. While the U-Pass would not solve Georgetown’s problems with accessible transportation, it would make it more affordable, especially for those on financial aid.
Several universities, including American University and George Washington University, have already implemented the U-Pass system, with their students showing extremely high levels of participation. Between 2017-2018, nearly 90 percent of all American University students used their U-Pass service. GUSA entered into negotiations with Georgetown’s administration during 2021, but talks have stalled due to shifting priorities.
The measure was immensely popular, approved by 84.03 percent of the students who voted. It would add a mandatory fee of around $130 to each semester’s cost of attendance, except for students with disabilities enrolled in the Paratransit program, and with financial aid packages adjusted accordingly.
Although WMATA is (yet again) considering constructing a Metro stop in Georgetown, the current lack of accessible rail transportation can act as a barrier for many students. “It's definitely a significant annoyance for a lot of people who come in from different parts of D.C. coming to Georgetown,” Dilan Gangopadhyay (MSB ’23) said. Gangopadhyay commuted to classes and oncampus obligations last year and opted to get a parking pass so he could drive the 15-20 minutes from his house, avoiding what would be a 45-minute commute by Metro. Parking in the neighborhood brought its own challenges, including $500 parking tickets, threats of towing, and delays in gaining approval for a parking pass.
While some students can afford the increasingly expensive Uber or Lyft rides as alternatives to the Metro, ride-sharing is not a replacement for robust public transit. In an effort to address accessibility concerns about commuting into the city, students have tried to take action on their own.
According to GUSA Speaker Camber Vincent (SFS ’24), the university believed the funding and organizational efforts needed to trial the program were required elsewhere, including to increase facilities staffing and develop new projects like the Earth
The Georgetown University Transportation Shuttle (GUTS bus) offers students free rides to locations like Dupont Circle and Rosslyn—both of which transfer to the Metro. Since the pandemic began, however, the GUTS bus has only run during the work week, limiting transportation access when students often have more free time to venture into the city. Even for students who use the GUTS bus during the work week for internships and other responsibilities, this bus-to-train option isn’t“It'sperfect.apain in the ass to get to because you’ve got to do the GUTS bus to a Metro station, change the Metro twice to get on the Green Line, just to get down there,” Gangopadhyay said of traveling to internships in Southeast D.C. Regardless of which day of the week it is, students can utilize the city’s bus services— including WMATA buses and the D.C. Circulator— to connect to a Metro stop or to reach their destination, but buses can be slow and unreliable, and subject to route constraints. The number of bus routes near Georgetown also fell due to budget cuts in recent years.
Even if Hoyas can get to a Metro station, there’s no guarantee that they’ll reach their destination on time. WMATA removed nearly 60 percent of its fleet of train cars last fall following a collision and concerns regarding the safety of the 7000 series of Metro cars, which make up a majority of the cars in service. Although the new chief operating officer, Brian Dwyer, committed to transitioning the 7000 series back into service, the return to regular service has been Othersluggish.delays are caused by a lack of operators with up-to-date training. The recent uncovering of this insufficiency resulted in the resignation of several top officials and widespread operational failures.
On April 28, 2021, Georgetown students voted overwhelmingly to approve a Metro U-Pass program through a GUSA referendum. A U-Pass offers students at participating universities unlimited free access to bus and subway services operated by the WMATA. The system would be integrated into a student’s SmarTrip account, which includes both physical and digital Metrocards.
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WMATA has sought to address these failures with a change in leadership, yet solutions remain elusive. The new general manager, Randy Clarke, is facing a $300 million dollar budget deficit amid lower passenger levels, which is likely to result in even fewer trains and shorter operating hours.
eorgetown students venturing into the nation’s capital face one major hurdle: transportation. Given the lack of a local Metrorail stop, getting from campus to downtown without a car can be daunting, despite attempts to increase access. Beyond the difficulties of getting out of Georgetown, significant delays to schedules, maintenance services, and route closures— along with reductions to Georgetown-run bus availability—only add to the impracticality of the city’s public transit. D.C.’s Metro system, regulated by the Washington Metropolitan Area Transit Authority (WMATA), serves as a critical artery for the city. Many Georgetown students rely on it when venturing to the National Mall, traveling to Nats games, attending concerts at the Anthem, and more. Without a Metro stop for the foreseeable future, Georgetown remains isolated from the wider transit network, and thus the city beyond the neighborhood. During the Metro’s construction in the 1960s, the overwhelmingly white Georgetown community—only about 4 percent of the neighborhood was Black, although the city as a whole was majority Black—rejected several plans to create a station in the neighborhood. This mirrored a widespread trend of segregating white communities from Black ones in D.C.
G by ryan samway; layout by graham krewinghaus
The U-Pass applies to both Metro trains and buses, but not the Circulator.
BY FRANZISKA WILD
Muhammad notes that this set of common risk factors—including the age range of 2527 years, past involvement with the criminal justice system, and being recently impacted by a shooting—are key to the solution to gun violence. “The violence is predictable, and therefore it is preventable,” he said.
FEATURES design by dane tedder
Despite its proven benefts, not everyone sees this kind of investment as efective.
“Gun violence in Washington, D.C. is very tightly concentrated on a small number of people who are at the very highest risk,” he said. “At any given time, there’s probably only about 200 to 250 people in the District with these series of risk factors at one time.”
T errance Staley, executive director of the violence intervention nonproft Alliance of Concerned Men (ACM), doesn’t see the media as productive in ending gun violence in D.C. “I don’t watch the news,” Staley said. “My ear is to the streets. My ofce is in the community.” Gun violence in D.C., as in many major cities, is a pervasive and major problem. To date, 2022 has seen 140 more violent gun-related crimes compared to the same period last year, though violent crime as a whole has risen by just 2 percent. While known as one of the most critical issues in the District, narratives around gun violence in D.C.’s media and Georgetown’s student community are often fawed. “Pretty much everything is wrong,” David Muhammad, director of the National Institute for Criminal Justice Reform, said in describing myths around D.C. gun violence. He fnds media narratives that paint the problem as out of control and unsolvable frustrating. Media coverage of gun violence in D.C. has mainly focused on the misconception that gun violence and crime are rising rampantly, despite evidence that the overall crime rate has not risen since last year. Gun violence in D.C. primarily occurs in Wards 7 and 8. Due to a combination of racist public policies, D.C. is the 15th most segregated metro area in the U.S. Wards 7 and 8 are both over 90 percent Black, meaning that gun violence primarily afects D.C.’s BlackThisresidents.reality, combined with a perceived rise in crime, contributes to racist narratives that paint gun violence in the District as exclusive to Black neighborhoods. The truth is that gun violence in D.C. is more complicated and preventable. According to Muhammad, gun violence in the District is not as widespread as it’s portrayed.
What the narratives around gun violence in D.C. get wrong
8 THE GEORGETOWN VOICE Content warning: gun violence.
“We’re changing a cultural norm about what confict is,” Staley said. “And that’s how we’ve been able to have no shootings for 11 months in the same place that was the host of D.C.’s last mass shooting.”
in violence, but nearly all of them come from these neighborhoods that have been suppressed and oppressed deliberately over decades through structural racism,” he said. Understanding the context of this issue is the only way to properly address it. Staley knows this frsthand—most of the folks who work as Credible Messengers at the ACM were formerly incarcerated, often for gun-related crimes. He emphasized that ACM is very focused on providing violence intervention that is suited to the cultural context of the communities where the violence is happening.
“I do think it does come upon the student body to say: ‘What’s happening in the community that I live in?’” Orbach said.
“Some people say: ‘You want to put money into a 24-year-old gang member with seven previous arrests?’ And it's like, ‘Yes,’ because you’re spending almost two million dollars in government spending in response to a shooting,” he said.
Direct narratives from impacted people is, to Lopez, critical. “Our students, especially the young ones, were telling our audience they had guns because they felt like they had to have them. If you don’t have one, you’ll get shot,” she said. “To hear that from the people that are holding the gun is pretty impactful.”
“There needs to be a partnership with nonprofit organizations and the schools in the cities that they live. Let’s be frank, the schools are in locations where violence interrupters help assist with public safety,” he said.
“We and other organizations struggle to actively cover gun violence because it is something that, especially at Georgetown, is very far removed from the lives of the people who are covering it and from the lives of the people we are around day to day,” Annemarie Cuccia (SFS ’22), a former editor-in-chief of the Voice, said.
Orbach sees students often taking an approach of avoidance regarding the issue. For example, they refuse to visit certain neighborhoods seen as “sketchy” or “dangerous.” Campus news organizations also often fall short in their coverage. The Voice has no more than fifteen articles tagged “gun control” or “gun violence”.
“I think if any institutions in this country could come up with solutions, it is higher ed,” Lopez said. Staley agrees, and sees universities as crucial in helping to formalize violence intervention efforts already in practice.
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prevention-focused investment is not only the quickest way to immediately prevent deaths, but for those worried about resources, it’s also the most cost-efective way.
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Gun control fts into the puzzle of prevention as well. Gun safety measures, however, can take years to impact rates of gun violence, but data proves that they work.
“Gun safety is incredibly important, but we need to understand the timeframes,” he said. “People claim: ‘Oh that doesn’t work or this doesn’t work, or we shouldn’t invest in this, and we should just lock everybody up.’”
Lopez believes that these perspectives need to be paired hand in hand with data driven violence prevention solutions. In that vein, she sees academic institutions as responsible for generating productive solutions for these kinds of problems.
Kane also pushed back against criticism of gun safety measures as a deprivation of Second Amendment Rights. While contemporary gun safety legislation increases requirements to own a frearm and doesn’t infringe upon the Second Amendment, gun control measures were originally situated as Reagan-era laws that sought to prevent Black men—specifcally the Black Panther Party—from owning guns. “The whole narrative of gun control versus gun safety actually stems from laws that were originally weaponized against people of color. And that is not how we want to operate,” Kane said. Muhammad also argued that additional policing in Georgetown is not necessary. “It is just not true that gun violence is everywhere, or that everybody is involved and that it’s a problem that can’t be solved,” he said. “A Georgetown student has nearly zero percent risk of being shot. Especially if they stick to the areas in and around Georgetown.”
Even in the rare instances where violence or the threat of violence occurs on or near campus, it is seen as extraordinary and Hoyas have an array of mechanisms to keep them safe, including HOYAlerts residentsunheardGUPD—resourcesandofforD.C.in
Wards 7 and 8. Additionally, mass shootings— despite representing a small percentage of gun violence—remain front of mind for many students. While the overall threat of gun violence is low, the issue is a serious problem and deserves the attention of every Hoya who calls this city a temporary home. “We fy in, we drive in, but we’re there for eight months out of the year,” said Orbach. “I know we always talk about the Georgetown bubble and how you have to get out of it, and how it’s super hard to get out of it. And I think that’s a little bit of a cop-out.”
"I know that [the not based off of solutions; I know that it's based off attention."of
Amy Lopez, who is the deputy director for the D.C. Department of Corrections and helps administer the Lead Up! Program knows this all too well. She recently helped implement a project based learning initiative which asked incarcerated people to develop solutions to gun violence. It’s the first initiative of its kind. “In the U.S., we don’t consider prisons a source of positive solutions. Just somewhere where we stick people away and hope that if we’ve given them enough punishment, they’ll mend their ways,” Lopez said.
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Muhammad explained that a lack of understanding of this chronology skews the narratives about what are considered efective solutions.
She does think the Voice has aimed to equitably cover the issue, but still fnds faws with some of the reporting. “I think we’ve been decently good at addressing underlying causes,” Cuccia said. “The fault in our coverage is mainly that it’s been pretty baseline, relying on numbers.” Narratives merely rooted in numbers infate fear and make fnding efective solutions and resources much more difcult. But as awareness around why approaches like increased enforcement are inefective grows, innovative solutions emerge.
Georgetown University currently engages with some gun violence prevention efforts and is a founding member of the new 120 Initiative, which gathers experts from educational institutions to create actionable solutions to gun violence in the United States. Yet it could be doing more. On Georgetown’s campus, gun violence is often forgotten or misconstrued, and in their time on the Hilltop, the vast majority of students will never engage with the communities that experience this issue—a factor that surely contributes to institutional and personal ambivalence.
Changes brought on by staffing and the pandemic diminished the role of the popular restaurant as a fixture of the campus nightlife.
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administrators to expand the meal plan, including the variety of restaurants that accept campus cash such as debit and flex dollars.
10 THE GEORGETOWN VOICE NEWS H istorically, few places on Georgetown’s campus bring students together the way that Epicurean and Company, afectionately known to Hoyas as “Epi” or “Epi’s,” is able to. Eating at the isouraboutonteamsincludingseveralandcelebratedwantdirectorMarkusrestaurant,nowhereinsecuritymealstudentsoflackinternationaltofood.mostcappedbetweenacceptedlocationbreakstop.m.Saturdayrestaurantaccompaniedthisthatnoodlevariousmealannouncedtopaymenteverywhere.fast)meets-diner-meets-bufetsushi-bar-meets-noodle-shop-(saythatthreetimesisariteofpassageforGeorgetownstudentsRecentchangestoitsscheduleandoptionsmaybringevenmorestudentsitsdoorsthanitslore.InearlyAugust,HoyaHospitalitythatmealexchanges—butnotswipes—mayberedeemedatEpi’sdiningoptions,includingthebar,pizza,deli,grill,andcafé,andflexdollarsmaybespentatthebuffetsemester.Themealplaninclusionisbyanextensioninhours:ThewillnowbeopenThursdaythroughfrom7a.m.to2a.m.,closingat10therestoftheweek.ThechangescomeamidstudentdemandsexpanddiningoptionsatEpi.Duringlastyear,itwasoftentheonlydiningopenoncampus.Becauseitonlyflexdollars,studentshadtochoosespendingvaluableflexdollars—ataround$200persemesterforstudents—orpayingoutofpocketforForstudentswithoutopportunitiesgohomeorpurchasemeals—especiallyandlow-incomestudents—theofoptionscompoundedthestrugglestayingoncampusoverbreaks.Withonanalreadyexpensivemandatoryplan,itcouldincreasetheriskoffoodamongHoyas.“Lastyearwetalkedtostudentsthathadtoeatexceptolderfoodorgotoawhichisobviouslyveryexpensive,”Kempin(SFS’24),communicationsfortheGUSAExecutive,said.“We[food]tobeavailableyear-round.”GUSA’sWolfeandUme-UkejepresidencythechangeontheirInstagramnotedthatitwasspurredbytheworkofGeorgetowninternaldepartments,thefinanceandbusinessoperationsandtheauxiliarybusinessservice.“It’sgoingtogivestudentsmoreflexibilitywhattoeat,whentoeatit,andtonotworrywheretogettheirnextmeal,whichwasnumberonegoal,”Kempinsaid.TheWolfe/Ume-Ukejeadministrationcurrentlyworkingwithuniversity
“I’m wary to get my hopes up, for sure, because for me it was such a formative experience for my freshman year. I’m going into my senior year, and I’m hoping to pass down the traditions that were passed on to me,” Samy said. “Part of that was being brought to Epi.”
Late-night hangouts, Epi quesadillas, and the imminent threat of tomorrow’s hangover were legendary, but as COVID-19 forced the restaurant and campus to close temporarily, students would be denied that experience for nearly two years.
Moreover, the recent change to Epi’s schedule and payment options is a crucial step forward in the fight for increased food security. “It opens the door for the administration to see how useful it is to have late-night [food] options,” Kempin said.
Alva Rodriguez and Mirna Pivaral, who have worked at Epi for a combined 27 years, welcome the extra hours—simply more “trabajito,” they said. For others, like Deyis Reyes, the change will not cause much disruption. One worker, who preferred to be identified only by their first name, Torrence, noted that they were already a night owl and that later working hours wouldn’t be very impactful.
“It felt like a rite of passage to go from a social event or a party and then go to Epi,” Samy said. “No matter where, when, or who you were hanging out with, it felt like everyone rejoined up at the end of the night at Epi.”
“I’ve heard raving reviews about the noodle bar they have. It’s something I should have done, but they had weird hours on it,” Slutzky said. “Based on what everyone’s told me, it does sound like kind of a bummer that we missed out on [Epi] last year; hopefully it can return to how it was this year.”
When the restaurant reopened its doors in 2021, it would be under Aramark’s management (one of Georgetown’s more controversial contractors) and with significantly reduced hours, closing at 10 p.m. Reduced hours and lack of meal plan inclusion thinned out the crowds visiting the restaurant, especially among“Honestly,underclassmen.myrelationship with Epi is pretty rocky. I didn’t go there all that much last year because I didn’t want to spend my flex dollars,” Cody Slutzky (COL ’25), a resident assistant in Darnall, said. “If I’m going to go, I’m only going to go when I have meal swipes.”
The recent changes also brought opportunities for some employees.
Expanding Epi’s offerings, however, may improve food security for students, and return the landmark to its former significance along the way.
Prior to the pandemic, the eatery was open into the wee hours of the morning—even 24/7 at one point—and drew different community members throughout the day. “It felt like during the daytime it belonged to the hospital staff, and during the nighttime it belonged to the students,” Karen Samy (SFS ’23) said.
Especially for those living in Darnall or Henle, like Slutzky, Epi can provide a closer, faster option than the almost 10-minute walk to the dining hall; but without affordable, accessible options, the draw isn’t strong enough, even for those who live so close.
Back To Its Former Glory: Epi added to meal plan, expands hours
BY NORA SCULLY
—Francesca
Read the full list at georgetownvoice.com!
Saying Whitney can be done better than Whitney herself feels sacrilegious (and it is). But this stripped-down cover of “How Will I Know”—a rendition of Houston’s lesser-known a cappella mix—is sublime because it’s sung by four distinct vocal tenors, rewriting the song in a new communal image. The original blazes so bright—yearning with an orange desire—but Glee’s version delves into thicker emotional water. “How Will I Know” opens Glee’s Whitney tribute episode—a musical peak for a show known to get heavy-handed with its tributes. The context lets it take on a new melancholic density, its doubt no longer about a crush on a boy, but also about what our collective future looks like without our heroes to follow after. When a simple drum kicks in during the last 30 seconds, their mourning feels almost spiritual—or at least special.
Pure unfltered absurdity ensues as Sarah Jessica Parker, playing a top executive at Vogue, spends her Thanksgiving throwing a party with two college freshmen in their warehouse apartment. Pairing the Scissor Sisters’ house anthem “Let’s Have a Kiki” with the sing-songy holiday tune “Turkey Lurkey Time” was a bold choice—and yet, it stands the test of time as one of the greatest holiday medleys of the 21st century. The track serves as the background for a gathering of queer folks who chose to spend their holiday dancing with their chosen family (and two theater kids from Ohio). It’s one of the many deliciously campy moments that could only come from this strange and fascinating show. Theoflou
songs that are beter than the original (and counting) Five
While many of the show’s choices were questionable at best, Glee’s reputation as a musical titan holds strong, with a record 207 songs charting on the Hot 100. Throughout its six-season run, this staple of early 2010s pop culture produced some extraordinary musical arrangements—many of which, we wager, perhaps blasphemously, were better than the original.
—Maya Kominsky From fan favorite background antagonists to feshed out main cast members, Brittany (Heather Morris) and Santana (Naya Rivera) undergo tremendous growth—cementing themselves as a major staple of the Glee experience. A core part of their legacy is their relationship with one another. Santana’s heartbreaking rendition of Taylor Swift’s “Mine” comes as the two make the difcult decision to split when Santana leaves for college. Swift’s “Mine” already stands as a very sweet and melancholic tune, but Rivera’s raw and more powerful vocals add pure emotion to the track, perfectly conveying the hurt the pair are feeling. The cover’s slower tempo, paired with much softer instrumentals, further amps up the tender and intimate nature of the scene. We’re left vulnerable to a vicarious pain felt deeply in the moment, but also the great love that led the two to this difcult decision.
—Ajani Jones
—Sarah Craig "How Will I Know" by Whitney Houston Season 3, Episode 17: "Dance With Somebody" "Let's Have a Kiki/Turkey Lurkey Time" Season 4, Episode 8: "Thanksgiving"
11AUGUST 26, 2022design by allison derose , for all its many faws, boasts one of the most extensive musical catalogs in television history. Since its debut in 2009, Glee quickly built a reputation for doing it all musically, from covering iconic pop ballads and gritty rock classics to songs straight
"Smooth Criminal" by Michael Jackson Season 3, Episode 11: "Michael" "Teenage Dream" by Katy Perry Season 2, Episode 6: "Never Been Kissed" "Mine" by Taylor Swif Season 4, Episode 4: "The Break-Up" Though his stint on Glee was short and sweet, Grant Gustin made a lasting impression in his portrayal of head Warbler Sebastian Smythe in season three. His one-liners and quippy comebacks rivaled Santana’s legendary smackdowns, and in their duet of “Smooth Criminal,” he held his own vocally. Gustin demonstrates a surprising vocal power and stage presence that makes him an equal contributor to Rivera’s impressive performance. Backed solely by Croatian cellist duo 2CELLOS as the pair chase each other around a room full of chairs, they rely solely on their voices to deliver a show so entrancing, it’s impossible to look away. Of course, the stakes are heightened as the Warblers and New Directions are set to be competitors for Regionals, which only makes this duet/showdown even more deliciously entertaining. The intensity of the performance is palpable even through the screen, and sweat practically beads on your forehead just watching it.
—Max Zhang “Never Been Kissed” has long been heralded as one of Glee’s most iconic episodes, and for good reason. In it, we are introduced to Blaine Anderson (Darren Criss), whose grand entrance into the show is now a fan-favorite a cappella rendition of “Teenage Dream.” While Criss’ smooth vocals are certainly the song’s focal point, so much of what makes this cover great is the background vocals, arranged and performed by The Beelzebubs, a real a cappella group at Tufts University. The group had performed an early rendition of “Teenage Dream” shortly after the song’s release, and was subsequently approached by Glee producers to arrange and sing the track for the show. Perhaps it was the musical charm of a genuine all-male a capella group behind the Dalton Academy Warblers that allowed “Teenage Dream” to be the frst Glee cover to hit #1 on the Billboard charts. Regardless, this performance quickly launched the Warblers into the hearts of Gleeks, and by the fnal note of the song, it’s hard not to resonate with Kurt’s crush on Blaine.
O ne February evening in 2017, I caught myself gripping the couch while watching the Grammys, jaw slackening as I watched Beyoncé lose Album of the Year (again). Somehow the failure of Lemonade—then her magnum opus—to triumph Adele’s splendid but mostly ordinary 25 felt lament-worthy. Not simply that it reifed the long-held race problem the Grammys has always had, but also because it felt almost impossible for Beyoncé to surpass Lemonade in quality and cultural credo. How can she go anywhere from here but down, I thought faithlessly. And what of her legacy now?
Most of all, I’m hoping Renaissance forces our culture to better embrace intersecting identities. Above all else, Renaissance is a love letter to Black queer communities, underground ballroom cultures especially. Legends like Kevin Aviance, Big Freedia, Moi Renee (“Miss Honey!”) make central appearances, and queer Black producers and writers span the record (Syd from The Internet, Honey Dijon, 070 Shake, etc.). “I’m comfortable in my skin,” she declares simply on “COZY.” A queer anthem—with “SUPERSTAR”—if I’ve ever heard one. The American sociopolitical context that Black queerness is situated in, however, is not all vogue and glamour, though important frewalls. LGBTQ+ rights—the assault of which will hurt Black, disabled, and trans communities hardest—are under increasing pressure, with legislation attacking vital trans medical care and the mere discussion of gay people in schoolbooks.
While we call the bacchanalia that is Beyoncé’s Renaissance to the foor, perhaps true legacy would mean adopting a politics of solidarity with the people who Renaissance celebrates the most—and wouldn’t exist without. For what good is joy if not lived by all?
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Of course, even before the late July release of Renaissance, her follow up to Lemonade, Beyoncé has moved her chess pieces around to only deepen the mythos of her three-decade long career—especially in its Blackness. Her Coachella headliner in 2018 (“Beychella”) relished in the special—but increasingly precarious—joys of historically Black colleges and universities. A collaborative project with husband JAY-Z (Everything is Love [2018]) saw her fullest embrace of hip-hop. Her gradual adoption of pan-African aesthetics over the last decade (see “Countdown” borrowing from Fela Kuti in 2012) came to a hilt as a curated soundtrack album for the live-action Lion King (2019), waist-deep in Afrobeats and Afropop features. In all, Beyoncé kept a strong hold on her status as a vanguard, unblinkingly Black and proud. But it’s on Renaissance where Beyoncé proves there’s no need to top herself—she instead transforms the musical geography altogether. And in a new ocean we swim: Renaissance feels peerless among her 250-song discography in its embrace of dance, house, and disco. With 16 tracks made for movement, the record is her danciest yet. Front to back, these are songs for ass throwing (“CHURCH GIRL,” gospel infuence aside), dips, twirls, and every kick-ballchange you can think of. A choreographer’s wet dream.Appropriately, Renaissance is also her sexiest record yet. While the inclusion of “Partition” and “Rocket” on Beyoncé 9 years ago felt almost naughty, even radical, as a new mother brazenly reclaimed sex symbolhood, Renaissance is not so coquettish. Rather, the sexualized body is both the record’s chief aesthetic and target. On “HEATED,” “THIQUE,” and the deceptivelytitled “AMERICA HAS A PROBLEM” (the problem in question is, in fact, that she’s too sexy—not, say, state-sanctioned violence), desire burns hot and without metaphor. There’s no shortage of pure musical excellence embedded in the album, either. Sixminute odyssey “VIRGO’S GROOVE” sees Bey deliver some jaw-dropping vocals—the galactic rifs on lines like “You’re the love of my life” are so good that it’s easy to forgive the borderline cheugy lyricism. Copying the career-best vocal gymnastics on “PLASTIC OFF THE SOFA” is now a TikTok challenge everyone from Chloë to Jojo has hopped onto. Given it seems made for the dancefoor, it’s easy to think of Renaissance as a post-pandemic album—and perhaps it’s true, though the “post” prefx is a misnomer for a disease still ravaging the country. Yet the political and cultural headspace in cities across America seems to have moved on, however individualistically, sending capacity and masking policies to the wastebasket. The result is a culture two-years-starved for connection in communal space, with so many choosing to indulge in the luxury of pleasure despite the complicated—even reckless—moral psychology involved. The philosophy of Renaissance responds to all this by saying, plainly: Dance, and everything else can come later. Indeed, few artists truly convene community like Beyoncé—especially for Black listeners. There’s a Beyoncé album for every era of my life, a friend texted once. Each record is an experience both personal and collective, where the record so accurately refects the shared emotional mood of the moment. Renaissance follows: Every good DJ across the country is spinning the whole record silly (more of “CUFF IT,” please); I am hopeful that the back-to-school college parties at Georgetown and beyond will blast “ALIEN SUPERSTAR” so we might all scream UNIQUE!!! skyward in unison. The long-term legacy of Renaissance might be more complex than simply collective revelry. While mainstream media labeled lead single “BREAK MY SOUL” a Great Resignation anthem for eschewing grind culture in favor of catharsis (“Release your job, release the time!”), the lynchpin of the album still seems to be material capitalism. It’s a ferce line, but there’s only so many times you can holler “It should cost a billion dollars to look this good!” in “PURE/ HONEY” before the thought emerges: Should it? The album glamorizes being “in your bag” (with those literal Birkins in storage)—unsurprising for a woman known for her aspiration to join the billionaire class. It begs the question whether the musical elite will ever really be able to speak (and act) in line with the working class. Renaissance also did not drop without controversy—in its deployment of a word some decried as an ableist slur but also sometimes used more innocuously in AAVE, as well as becoming part of an ongoing debate about sampling. The album liner notes stirred pots when Kelis’ “Milkshake” appeared to be sampled without her permission—largely because the Neptunes own all the production credits. A critical obsession with the dozens of people credited on Renaissance (Robin S., Sheila E., the Clark Sisters, and more) also emerged, largely from non-Black critics failing to acknowledge that meticulous sample curation is a worldbuilding tool itself, building intergenerational and cross-genre relationships.
BY MAX ZHANG
12 THE GEORGETOWN VOICE design by deborah han
Beyoncé ended up making surgical repairs on streaming platforms, removing the criticized term and the Kelis sample. I anticipate these post hoc edits will become more commonplace in the coming years to fx “mistakes,” with artists seamlessly sewing over records with most listeners none the wiser, and I’d like meaningful debates about artistic ownership to continue.
LEISURE
What Renaissance means to her legacy and more
Honestly, Nevermind and its solid lineup of light-hearted odes to house came as a surprise for many. While Drake has shifted toward danceability over time, Honestly, Nevermind is a dance record, full stop. Uptempo and colored with synth rifs, tracks like “Massive” and “Texts Go Green” instantly conjure a sweaty club dancefoor. Drake includes signifcantly fewer nods to house classics than Beyoncé or Bad Bunny; though acclaimed house DJ Black Cofee worked on the project, Honestly, Nevermind features only one house sample. Still, the strong four-on-the-foor bass drum coursing through nearly the entire record undeniably makes Honestly, Nevermind a clear member of the house revival. While house’s rebirth has largely been praised, critics have raised concerns about appropriation. The music video for Megan Thee Stallion’s recent “Her,” a house track infused with Meg’s signature swagger, has garnered criticism from ballroom legend Leiomy Maldonado and others for its use of voguing, a dance style built by ballroom culture. A long history of mainstream artists borrowing from house and voguing exists: Madonna’s 1990 single “Vogue” notably featured a bare-bones version of the dance. The visuals and sound of “Vogue” helped establish Madonna as a gay icon, but in an era of increased visibility for LGBTQ+ people, the response to mainstream artists experimenting with LGBTQ+ art forms is distinctly frostier. The controversy over “Her” raises important questions about how artists should responsibly engage with cultures outside their own without overshadowing members of marginalized communities.
13AUGUST 26, 2022design by deborah han P ut on Drake’s Honestly, Nevermind (2022), Beyoncé’s Renaissance (2022), or this summer’s biggest album, Bad Bunny’s Un Verano Sin Ti (2022), and one thing is certain: You’re going to want to dance. But the groove running through some of this summer’s hottest releases isn’t exactly new. From hip-hop to hyperpop, music’s biggest names are playing with house music, a genre born in the gay clubs of Chicago and New York that dominated the ’90s airwaves. House music is characterized by its heavy electronic drums cut with hi-hats or snares, deep bass, and fast tempo. In the right conditions (i.e. a club dancefoor), these elements combine to create a sound that vibrates through your whole body. House isn’t just hedonistic; its founders wanted to create a genre that provided joy and release for the Black and Latinx LGBTQ+ community while simultaneously creating space for resistance to a hostile sociopolitical environment. This summer, house has hit the mainstream once again—but today’s artists are more willing to recognize and honor the genre’s origins. The story of house begins with that of another upbeat dance genre: disco. In the mid1970s, disco was hitting a fever pitch; this was the era of ABBA’s “Dancing Queen,” of Donna Summer’s “Hot Stuf.” But it was also the era of a white, conservative backlash to the genre developed by and for queer people of color, culminating in a Chicago riot devoted to burning disco records in 1979. Whether you were a disco devotee or shouting “Disco sucks!” at an antidisco rally, its cultural impact was undeniable. But in a Chicago club called The Warehouse largely patronized by Black LGBTQ+ people, disco was taking on a new shape under the leadership of DJ Frankie Knuckles. Using samples of disco tracks and its signature fouron-the-foor beat as a base, Knuckles created highly danceable tracks infused with electronic drum machines. If disco was a shimmy, house was an all-out strut; with smooth, round synths and pounding bass, it projected an efortless cool. Naturally, this new genre was dubbed “house” after The Warehouse. Since birth, house has been the music of the marginalized. Because of its undeniable attitude and its previous associations with queer spaces, the genre was quickly adopted as the soundtrack to ballroom, a pageant subculture for queer people of color, across the country. Created to showcase the talent and artistry of Black and Latinx LGBTQ+ people, which was often dismissed by white queer people in existing drag pageant circuits, the balls continue to serve as important spaces for expression and connection within the LGBTQ+ community. With ball participants walking, dancing, and posing in various “categories,” ballroom created opportunity to perform radical creativity, inhabiting social roles queer people of color historically have struggled to access, including corporate America. The rise of house is inextricably linked to the history of ballroom: Even as house’s popularity within the mainstream has ebbed and fowed, its role in the balls has kept its sound alive. As house made its way to the mainstream in the ’90s, the genre’s marginalized origins were often erased or obscured. U.K. labels began to pick up acts from Chicago, and house music quickly spread across Europe. When it reached international markets, house became largely associated with the European dance scene and U.K. rave culture. As more mainstream European artists like Daft Punk and The Style Council experimented with the genre, the music was no longer exclusive to Black LGBTQ+ dance clubs where the genre was born, despite their clear debt to these spaces. This summer’s wave of house seems poised to right this historical wrong—particularly in Renaissance, where ballroom culture is at the forefront. The snapping of fans—an accessory popular with drag queens and unavoidable at balls—adorns “HEATED” as Beyoncé imitates a ballroom emcee, doling out “tens, tens, tens, across the board,” and ballroom chants embellish “PURE/HONEY.”
Renaissance’s reverence for the Black LGBTQ+ people who birthed house is both a personal and political project for Beyoncé. The album is in fact dedicated to her cousin, Uncle Johnny, who Beyoncé refers to as her “godmother.” According to Beyoncé’s mother, Uncle Johnny helped raise Beyoncé and introduced her to house music, and his death due to AIDS-related illness in the late ’90s had a deep impact on the family. Even when not tied to the LGBTQ+ community, some of house’s new practitioners have maintained the genre’s role as a political tool. On Bad Bunny’s “El Apagón,” house lays the foundation for a criticism of rapid gentrifcation in Puerto Rico. Over a rolling bass drum and Latin percussion sampled from salsa legend Ismael Rivera’s “Controversia,” Bad Bunny criticizes appropriation of Latinx identities. In the song’s outro, Gabriela Berlingeri’s soaring vocals recall house classics like Crystal Waters’ “Gypsy Woman,” as she sings, “I don’t want to leave here / let them go … this is my beach / this is my sun / this is my land / this is me.”
At its best, house music is explosively joyful, and it makes for a perfect reaction to an era of isolation, confnement, and chaos. House deserves respect, and the new generation of mainstream artists working with the genre must navigate a music landscape that is increasingly— and rightly—sensitive to issues of cultural ownership. Artists like Beyoncé and Bad Bunny have millions of people who look up to them, and with their following they carry a responsibility to bring appreciation to this rich subculture.
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BY ISABEL SHEPHERD
The genre’s history makes house the perfect ft for expressing concerns about displacement and cultural erasure. Of course, not every recent spin on house is overtly political. Charli XCX plays it safe on “Used to Know Me,” which heavily incorporates Robin S.’ classic “Show Me Love” (which also gained new life on Beyoncé’s “BREAK MY SOUL”). Shygirl’s “Cleo” is even bolder, embellishing its house beat with soaringDrake’sstrings.
House music is back, with credits to its roots
Fernandez-Powell, a graduate student who has been with the Hoyas since 2018, believes that her new teammates are going to be great assets for the team—specifically when it comes to scoring.
Georgetown students will have their chance to show up to Shaw and support on Sept. 4, when the team takes on Columbia at 1 p.m. G Jo Stephens
“I don’t think they’ve even mentioned the ranking,” said Head Coach Brian Wiese. “It’s nice to be ranked high, but it doesn’t really mean much. They’re used to it.”
“Preseason awards and rankings are nice, but really, they don’t speak for anything,” she said. “That’s the minimum. That’s what people are expecting.”CoachDave Nolan agreed. “It’s on paper,” he said of the rankings. “Our game is played on grass. Paper doesn’t mean anything, so I usually don’t pay that much attention to it.”
“Every single one of the freshmen has come in on a mission,” Koehler said. “Every single one of them is ready to come on and make an impact.”
Young expectationsamidaimingHoyashighevenhigherforsoccer season CARLOS RUEDA
Maya
When asked about players who they expect to step up this season, senior captain Aidan Rocha proceeded to list off nearly everyone.
“We’re really happy with how the young guys have embraced what we do, how we do it, and I think even more importantly, how the old guys are taking them under their wing, teaching them, and bringing them into the fold,” Coach Wiese said. This is nearly a complete team. The only piece missing? The fans.
THE GEORGETOWN VOICE14 photos courtesy of georgetown athletics and john picker; design by graham krewinghaus BY
“We don’t see [the ranking] as being the number two team in the country, we see that as people having really high expectations of us,” goalie and team captain Ethan Koehler, a graduate student, said. “We know that every single time we step on the field, whether it’s home or away, that the team we play against is going to bring their best on that day. And we have to match that.”
But this Hoya squad is up to the challenge. Despite losing players like Chris Hegardt, Stefan Stojanovic, and Dante Polvara to the professional ranks, and players like Giannis Nikopolidis, Sean Zawadzki, and Zach Riviere to graduation, the Hoyas have an experienced core of improving players to lead the young team.
SPORTS Men's Preview:
AND JO STEPHENS
One thing the team does pay attention to is fan support.“Ithink the biggest thing the student body can do is come out to our games, bringing that energy and spirit. Because it really does make a difference when we’re playing,” FernandezPowellLeassaid.and Nolan went a step further, calling on Georgetown students to give the women’s soccer team the same attention and support that their male counterparts get. “Sometimes we do get so much support,” Leas said. “But I look over at the men’s games, and the energy they have— it’s electric.”“Everybody wants to cheer for a winner,” Nolan added. “And we win more than pretty much anybody. And I sometimes feel like these guys don’t get respect for that, and I think they should. We should have more fans in the stands.”
For some programs, such a high ranking would be the talk of campus, a reason to walk around with a swagger. If there’s a program at Georgetown that has earned that right, it’s this men’s soccer team. But you won’t hear any talk of the ranking, even in the locker room, and you certainly won’t see any member of this team with an inflated ego.
Carlos Rueda Women’s Preview: After falling short of national championship expectations last year, the Georgetown women’s soccer team is only looking in one direction: forward. There are a lot of things to be excited about this year. The Hoyas have a crop of promising first years whom returning players and coaches alike are thrilled to have on board.
A top the 2022 NCAA Men’s Soccer preseason rankings was the Clemson Tigers, last season’s national champions. Right behind them at number two? The Georgetown Hoyas.
“Marlon [Tabora], Joe Buck, Trevor Burns, John Franks, Pranav Jha, Kyle Linhares…everybody,” he said. “The fact that I can name off all those names as guys that can step up, I mean, you have a ton to write about, Carlos.” A ton Additionally,indeed. Georgetown boasts an extraordinary class of incoming freshmen. Some names that stand out include Jack Panayotou, a midfielder who trained with the U.S. Under-19 youth national team, and Jacob Murrell, a 6’2” forward named the 2021-2022 Gatorade National Boys Soccer Player of the Year.
“When we know the fans are going to be there, it’s such a huge advantage for us,” said Rocha. “It gives us confidence at home.”
“We have a pretty exciting group of freshmen,” she said. “Quite a few that I think are going to bring a lot to the table this year and get a lot of There’sminutes.”also the matter of rankings. The team was picked to finish first in the Big East and was ranked 19th in the United Soccer Coaches preseason poll. This sort of recognition is not new—they were picked to finish first in the Big East last year—but it still sets the standard for the level of play all season. Individual accolades play a role as well; Julia Leas, a senior midfielder, has been named to the watch list for the Hermann Trophy, which is the most prestigious award in college soccer. When asked about these sorts of expectations, Leas made it clear that they make little impact on gametime strategy.
The team is ready to start the journey for a second national championship; be a part of the ride and help them defend Shaw Field at every home game.
15APRIL 29, 2022 15AUGUST 26, 2022photo courtesy of gravitas ventures; layout by insha momin
: Alumni’s new
G
hen most students think about what “going pro” looks like for college football players, the first thing that comes to mind is the NFL. On ESPN documentaries and featurettes during NFL commercial breaks, we see the classic progression—a smiling elementary schooler in an oversized helmet grows into a more serious high school athlete, and then a college standout. By age 21 or 22, we see this athlete standing next to Roger Goodell in the NFL draft, and their professional storyButbegins.the path to professional football isn’t always so linear. For some players, the road to athletic success lies beyond the NFL. For Georgetown alums Nick Alfieri (MSB ’15) and Brent Craft (MSB ’08), their involvement in professional football has come through an American football league in Germany, thousands of miles away from home. This is the gridiron pastime of the United States, transplanted to the very heart of European association football.
The German Football League (GFL) started in 1979 as a place for friendly matchups between Germans and U.S. military personnel stationed in West Germany, forming six club teams. As Alfieri described in an interview with the Voice, the popularity of American football in Germany has grown steadily, with an increasingly large fanbase made up primarily of Germans, not just American expats. While the sport will probably never attain the massive status of soccer powerhouses in the Bundesliga, it has generated a sizable viewership. According to Alfieri, the sport is growing, and the structure of the GFL is designed to encourage participation by players from a range of backgrounds. “In America, our football is such a popular sport, but in Germany, it’s more of a niche sport,” Alfieri described. “There’s sixteen teams in the German football league and the structure of it is you can only have six Americans on your roster and the rest of the team has to be European players.” Moreover, while a team can have six Americans on the roster, there can only be two on the field at the sameIntime.2014, Alfieri became part of one of those groups of six Americans. Alfieri played linebacker for four years at Georgetown and was a standout his senior year, becoming the 2014 Joe Eacobacci No. 35 Memorial Jersey Recipient. After finishing his degree, he moved to Los Angeles to pursue a graduate degree from the University of Southern California's School of Cinematic Arts. A semester into his degree, however, he was contacted by a recruiter from a GFL team with a funny name— the Schwäbisch Hall Unicorns. Alfieri left USC for Germany with the intent to both play football and produce a documentary about American footballBrentthere.Craft, Alfieri’s co-producer, graduated from Georgetown in 2008 as one of the best football players in the league. In his senior year, he led the Hoyas in both receptions and receiving yards and was ranked second in catches per game across the whole Patriot League. After his time on the Hilltop, Craft pursued a career in professional football and sports filmmaking. He played a stint in the Arena Football League, then got into film as a stuntman on NBC’s Friday Night Lights, eventually producing his first film in 2017 before serving as a co-producer with Alfieri on their 2022 documentary. That documentary—titled Unicorn Town chronicles Alfieri’s first year in Schwäbisch Hall. The Unicorns are the perfect underdog story: They’re contenders for the GFL championship, but they’re hampered by injuries and a well-financed opposition. Schwäbisch Hall is a city of about 40,000 people, and the Unicorns have only one full-time staff worker and six paid players. The rest of the team and its coaching staff are volunteers. The teams they face for the GFL championship are from large cities like Frankfurt and Dresden, who, unlike the Unicorns, are flush with funds from larger fan bases and lucrative corporate sponsorship deals. The documentary describes the journey of six American players on the Unicorns. The film chronicles the players learning to live in Europe, becoming part of Schwäbisch Hall’s town culture, and struggling to beat the Brunswick Lions in the 2016 GFL championship. The Lions, from a fairly large city, are something of a New England Patriots in the GFL. Nobody doubts their talent, but their success has made them the league’s perennial playoff villain. The film follows the Unicorns from an injury-riddled regular season into the playoffs, culminating in a dramatic matchup with the Lions in the 2016 GFL final. Ultimately, the documentary provides a compelling personal story as well as an intriguing look at American football’s rise in a new market.
Unicorn Town documentary showcases American football abroad
The documentary was released on Aug. 19 and is available on Prime Video, Apple TV, and Vudu, as well as in select theaters. For fans and athletes alike, Unicorn Town provides a window into the exciting, but little known, world of professional American football outside the U.S. Craft hopes the film “showcases a different spirit towards the sport.” Football in the U.S. is extremely commoditized and competitive, but the Unicorns, he continued, “retain a sense of soul that keeps the game fun and keeps the atmosphere right and remembers that it is still sport.”
“I personally wouldn’t mind if this spreads throughout the sports world,” he added. Alfieri echoed this sentiment. “Playing football in America in high school and college—it becomes such a grind, it’s such a job—and when I got over there and I saw the passion that these German guys had—it’s such a pure passion it almost brought me back to playing football as a young kid,” he said. “Just playing for the purity of the sport and the camaraderie and the teamwork.”
BY TIM TAN SPORTS W
