The Georgetown Voice April 12, 2019

VOICE The Georgetown

Behind the Scenes, GUSA Policy Teams Work for Change page 10

Native Students and the Piscataway Fight for Greater Recognition page 13

April 12, 2019

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APRIL 12, 2019

THE GEORGETOWN VOICE —Celebrating 50 Years—

STAFF editor-in-chief Margaret Gach Managing editor Sienna Brancato news

Volume 51 • Issue 15

executive editor Jake Maher Features editor Jack Townsend news editor Noah Telerski assistant news editors Damian Garcia, Caroline Hamilton, Roman Peregrino

culture

executive editor Santul Nerkar Leisure editor Dajour Evans assistant leisure editors Emily Jaster, Nicole Lai, Ryan Mazalatis Sports editor Aaron Wolf Assistant sports editor Tristan Lee, Will Shanahan

“Sittin’ pretty” by EGAN BARNITT

contents Editorials Carrying On: Navigating the Maze of Georgetown’s Mental Healthcare System Devon O’Dwyer

opinion

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Mother Knows Best? Balancing Stability with Courage Christine Sun

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Piecing Together Disordered Eating Sienna Brancato

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It’s All Greek to Me: Fraternities and Sororities on the Hilltop Jack Townsend Behind the Scenes, GUSA Policy Teams Work for Change Annemarie Cuccia

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Executive editor Emma Francois voices editor Julia Pinney Assistant Voices editors Natalie Chaudhuri, Leina Hsu Editorial Board Chair Claire Goldberg Editorial Board Sienna Brancato, ANNEMARIE CUCCIA, INéS DE MIRANDA, CHRIS DUNN, EMMA FRANCOIS, MARGARET GACH, Nick Gavio, Alex Lewontin, Jake Maher, JULIA PINNEY, Phillip Steuber, Noah Telerski, Jack Townsend

halftime

Leisure editor Juliana Vaccaro de Souza assistant leisure editors Skyler Coffey, Anna Pogrebivsky, John Woolley Sports editor Teddy Carey Assistant sports editor Nathan Chen, Josi Rosales

design

Executive editor Delaney Corcoran Spread editor Jake Glass Photo Editor Hannah Song cover Editor Egan Barnitt assistant design editors Camilla Aitbayev, Jacob Bilich, Josh Klein, Olivia Stevens Staff designers TIMMY ADAMI, Marie Luca, Ally SMith, Amy Zhou

copy

copy chief Cade Shore assistant Copy editors Sophie Stewart, Neha Wasil editors Mya Allen, JULIAN DAZA, MAX FREDELL, MAYA KNEPP, STEPHANIE LEOW, MOIRA PHAN, MADISON SCULLY, CINDY STRIZAK, MAYA TENZER, KRISTIN TURNER, RACHEL WEINMAN

Swiping Out Food Insecurity, One Meal at a Time Roman Peregrino

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Native Students and the Piscataway Fight for Greater Recognition Caroline Hamilton

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Shazam! Starts Bright, Only to Fizzle Out Nicole Lai

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Podcast editor Kayla Hewitt assistant podcast editor Panna Gattyan social media editor Katherine Randolph MULTIMEDIA editor Isabel Lord Content manager Margaux Fontaine

Artists Respond Presents Dynamic Commentary on the Vietnam War Skyler Coffey

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general manager Anna Gloor assistant manager of alumni outreach Beth Cunniff

The opinions expressed in The Georgetown Voice do not necessarily represent the views of the administration, faculty, or students of Georgetown University, unless specifically stated. Columns, advertisements, cartoons, and opinion pieces do not necessarily reflect 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.

editor@georgetownvoice.com Leavey 424 Box 571066 Georgetown University Washington, DC 20057

online

business support

associate editors Rachel Cohen, Brynn Furey, Inès de Miranda, Lizz Pankova, Katya Schwenk

Staff writers

Kent Adams, Luis Borrero, Annemarie Cuccia, Haley D’Alessio, Jorge DeNeve, Max Fredell, Errol French, Bradley Galvin, Amy Guay, Peter Guthrie, darren jian, Dominic Parente, John Picker, Zach Pulsifer, Cam Smith, KARISSA TEER

THE GEORGETOWN VOICE

Page 3 An eclectic collection of jokes, puns, doodles, playlists, and news clips from the collective mind of the Voice staff.

Halftime Leisure Preview The eighth and final season of Game of Thrones comes out on Monday, April 14. Want a refresher on the renowned HBO series but can’t afford to binge-watch it in this way-too-late midterm season? Our Voice writers cover all previous episodes in grand style, telling you what you need to know before the latest season drops. Read more on georgetownvoice.com.

Margaux’s Animal Doodle of the Week Pictured: a basic D.C. college student who went to the cherry blossoms and thought that people would LOVE to see his very unique Instagram post.

Why be petty when you could be pretty? Afternoon Tea is the official podcast of turn the other cheek Tuesday™ #ttoct

Afternoon Tea Reports

Voice Softball Team Completes Undefeated Season!

In 1994, the Montreal Expos were robbed of a potential World Series title because of a player strike. This year, with no co-ed intramural softball competition being held, the Voice will not befall the same fate. Instead, we are taking a lesson from the University of Central Florida and declaring ourselves champions after an undefeated season.

Quiz: Are You More Likely to Be Friends with Tim or Liv? Often mistaken for Timothée Chalamet and Alyson Stoner, Tim and Liv are designers for the Voice who are actively recruiting new friends.

1.

Best intimate spot on campus? a. A corner booth in lower Leo’s b. The bottom of the Lau staircase c. Inside the Georgetown University Police Department d. Your freshman year common room

3.

Where are you most likely to run into your ex? a. Regents b. Copley laundry room at 2 a.m. c. In the GERMS ambulance (they are GERMSing you!) d. In The Hoya office

2.

If you could pick a sport to bribe your way into Georgetown, what would it be? a. Water Polo b. Volleyball c. B-Frat d. Tennis

4.

Who just, like, gets you? a. A very preppy soccer mom b. The Fab Five c. John DeGioia d. Your UG barista

Everything is Ending: An End of Semester Crying Playlist 1. “Wife”- Mitski 2. “Pity Party”- Quinnie 3. “Visions of Gideon”- Sufjan Stevens 4. “Self Control”- Frank Ocean 5. “It Is What It Is”- Kacey Musgraves

You do the math. For every A, give yourself ten points for Liv. For every B, give yourself ten points for Tim. For C, give 5 points to each. If you picked any D’s, put this magazine down immediately and go work for The Hoya.

EDITORIALS

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APRIL 12, 2019

Senior Ball Cost is Prohibitive Senior Ball is a tradition that many members of the graduating class have been looking forward to since they were freshmen. The event takes place at Union Station on the final night of Senior Week—one large celebration with family and classmates before the sun rises on graduation morning.

This year, one ticket costs $137.49, including fees.

This editorial board urges the Senior Class Committee and the university to provide greater subsidization for students and their families, taking into account how prohibitive the cost is for many. It is unfair of the Senior Class Committee to expect that this price would be acceptable for all students.

The Office of Financial Aid is giving one free ticket and one partially subsidized ticket to the 300 students who demonstrated the highest financial need. While we applaud the effort to help make tickets more affordable for some, we are frustrated that many students who will still have trouble affording tickets have been left out.

The price is an obstacle for so many students that there is currently a waitlist for discounted tickets, beyond the 300 already receiving financial aid. The distribution of these discounted tickets will depend on how much money the committee raises through donations, meaning that students on the waitlist don’t know how much of a discount they will get, if they’ll be able to get discounted tickets for their families, or even if they’ll get any assistance at all.

The $130 ticket is a 30 percent increase from last year’s price of $100, which was still unacceptably high.

Despite objections from students, who urged the committee to make Senior Ball tickets more affordable, the price has increased. The Senior Class Committee told the Voice that the ticket price increase was caused by a change in management at Union Station which led to substantial increases in the price of venue rental, as well as food and beverage costs.

Hosting such a large-scale, elaborate event makes it hard to keep ticket costs down, and we understand that there are a limited number of venues in the area that can accommodate up to 6,000 people. However, once the Senior Class Committee has negotiated the pricing with the venue, they have a responsibility to fundraise in order to make up for the higher pricing. The planning committee has a full year to organize the event and therefore should have time to raise money to subsidize the ticket price before it is announced to students. It is unclear if any further work was done to make the ticket more affordable once the pricing of the venue was finalized.

Additionally, if the Senior Class Committee felt they were unable to raise enough money to reduce the ticket price, they should have announced the price earlier. By announcing the ticket cost only weeks from the Senior Ball date, the Senior Class Committee has blindsided students and their families.

With more time, students could have made arrangements to make up the money, possibly adjusting travel plans for their family or reservations for the weekend of the Ball.

We are also concerned that the only lower-priced option is available for attendees aged 13 and under. Those from the ages of 14 to 20 will have to pay full price, despite the fact that one of the contributors to the high cost of tickets is an open bar.

As most seniors bring their families, including their younger

siblings, we believe the Senior Class Committee should make ticket prices lower for all guests under the age of 21.

The Senior Class Committee has offered a discount on hair blowouts in an attempt to reconcile the ticket price. They are also providing GUTS bus transportation to and from the event. But if you can’t afford the ticket, then what good is free transportation or a discounted hair stylist? Not only is the discounted hair styling tailored for people whose hair can be “blown out,” excluding a significant portion of the senior class, but it also does not address the issue of the prohibitive cost of the ticket itself.

This issue of affordability is not limited to Senior Ball.

Many of Georgetown’s annual events have extremely high costs of attendance, such as the Diplomatic Ball and Corp Gala, although the proceeds from Corp Gala do go to charity. This continues to ostracize and exclude low-income students, which contradicts Georgetown’s values and is especially unacceptable for school-sponsored events.

If you are an undergraduate student who is also upset or frustrated about this high cost, we urge you to join your Senior Class Committee or voice your opinion to them in order to advocate for affordability in the future. Additionally, if you can afford to, there is an option to donate to the Senior Ball Assistance Fund to subsidize the cost of tickets for fellow students.

The Senior Ball ticket pricing is only one example of unaffordability on campus, and we call for future planning committees, other students, and the administration to proactively seek out ways to make these types of events more inclusive and financially accessible.

Support GUSA Policy Teams for Change on Campus The Georgetown University Student Association (GUSA) Policy Teams were established in their current form under the administration of Enushe Khan (MSB ’17) and Chris Fisk (COL ’17) in 2016. The teams combined the responsibilities of the senate and executive into joint groups that focus on specific policy areas.

Three years and four administrations later, this editorial board believes that these executive-senate policy teams are the most effective arm of GUSA but need the support of the student body and administration to reach their full potential.

GUSA describes these teams as the “heart and soul” of student government policy work. This editorial board has frequently criticized the senate and executive for failing to effect meaningful change on campus, and though we still feel that GUSA as a whole has much room for improvement, we see the policy teams as the most functional piece of the larger institution. The 29 teams represent a range of issues and communities, from dining to LGBTQ+ to accessibility, and are distinct enough to give people the platform to create specific and concrete policy. This is certainly a better system

than relying on senators or GUSA executives to tackle every issue facing the student body on their own.

While its true that GUSA does a poor job at promoting the work done by these teams, students also often overlook their work, whether it is taking steps toward creating a Disability Studies minor or working with Health Education Services to consolidate mental health resources. These examples of collaboration between the administration and students who are passionate about specific issues are what will regain the student body’s trust in GUSA. We are still frustrated with the focus on titles, appearances, infighting, and procedures in our student body government. But GUSA members have made strides toward greater transparency over the past semester by posting senate meeting minutes and a student activity fee budget breakdown on Facebook. We hope the new group of senators and the recently inaugurated Francis/Olvera administration can use the policy teams to strengthen the relationship between the senate and executive to reduce unproductive bureaucracy.

We believe that policy teams should be led by students who have personal connections and knowledge of their respective topics to effectively advocate for the well-being of

students. In addition, policy teams should not claim the work of already existing student activists, but must work alongside them to provide an official platform and greater access to GUSA funds and relationships with administrators.

We ask the administration to take these policy teams seriously and to give them access to the information and resources they need to work toward their goals. The recommendations of policy teams and the student activists who work with them deserve full consideration and implementation, or at the very least, a clear and timely explanation as to why their proposals have been denied by the university.

In an Oct. 12, 2018, editorial, we wrote, “Students who want to make the real and necessary changes we need on campus have many better opportunities than joining GUSA.” While we still believe this is the case, executive-senate policy teams are currently the best opportunity for students to access GUSA resources while avoiding the bureaucracy of the organization. They have the potential to help the entire student body government function at its highest capacity if they are given the opportunity to foster change, share details of their projects, and strive to support, not claim, the work of non-GUSA student activists.

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THE GEORGETOWN VOICE

Navigating the Maze of Georgetown’s Mental Healthcare System

Marie Luca

VOICES

Carrying On: Voice Staffers Speak I don’t know how to describe what depression and anxiety feel like.

Comedian Sarah Silverman once described it as, “I’m desperately homesick, but I’m home.” Star Trek actor Wil Wheaton said, “I struggled to reconcile the facts of my life with the reality of my existence. I knew something was wrong with me, but I didn’t know what.”

I do know that last summer I would often leave my house in the morning, only to immediately feel exhausted and want to turn around and climb back into bed. I lost my appetite and stopped eating breakfast and sometimes lunch, too. I even started walking slower, dragging my feet across the pavement in a kind of somber march from one place to the next. On one particularly bad day, I woke up, got dressed, and left my house, only to have to stop and sit on the steps outside.

Like many people, I have dealt with the occasional mental health struggle throughout my life. Last summer, however, I faced my most difficult battle. For those several months, I had debilitating panic attacks at least a few times each week: on the bus, in the bathroom, in my bed, even sitting on the side of the road. Despite being a relatively high-functioning person on the outside—I could make it to work and class and fulfill my basic responsibilities—I was struggling on the inside.

I felt demoralized, tired of the sensation that I was constantly drowning. As I watched my friends relish in the excitement of the approach of senior year, I often felt like the cheerful, introspective person who once inhabited my brain had hidden somewhere else.

I began going to therapy at Counseling and Psychiatric Services (CAPS) in early June. I remember breathing a sigh of relief when I was told that I had “textbook” symptoms for major depressive disorder and panic disorder; I wasn’t just overreacting, weak, or lazy. I had a diagnosable illness, something that could be managed with the right treatment.

According to the CAPS website, “In order to best meet the demand for services which at times may exceed capacity, CAPS operates according to a short-term treatment model.” As a result, my therapist told me I could only receive services from them for one semester. By September, I knew I needed continued support as I transitioned into the school year. When students have longterm needs that surpass the scope of CAPS, they are referred to off-campus providers. On paper, this sounds like a sufficient policy. But in my case, it meant receiving an email with an attached Word document listing over 30 potential providers and only a few scattered, extremely vague notes to guide me. While I worked hard to narrow down the list, I was left feeling lost.

Navigating the mental healthcare system is difficult for high-functioning people like me. For those with more severe symptoms than mine, it is undoubtedly an even greater feat.

Calling people on the phone and explaining one’s situation over and over again is mentally draining. One Friday evening in

early September, my friend sat next to me while I called multiple providers, leaving voicemail after voicemail.

“Maybe I should call for you?” she offered.

“What if they actually pick up?!” I exclaimed. “They’re going to start grilling you about ‘your’ symptoms, so you better be ready,” I warned.

“Hi, I’m Devon, and I’m, uh ... sad,” she deadpanned. Amidst all of the exhaustion and the chaos, we burst into laughter.

The first appointment I received was not until several weeks later. I have found that this is the norm for psychologists, who treat patients through therapy, and psychiatrists, who have the ability to prescribe medication. Due to high demand, many providers aren’t currently taking new patients or are backed up by several weeks.

A strong doctor/patient relationship is important in many different realms of healthcare, but it is especially important in mental healthcare, which can mean going through multiple “initial consultations.” The process is confusing and emotionally exhausting, and I learned about it through trial and error, the internet, and friends—not CAPS. Additionally, figuring out the financial aspect of mental healthcare is a complicated and costly endeavour. While there are some mental healthcare providers in Georgetown, they are among the most expensive options available in D.C. due to the neighborhood’s affluence. Many college students will need to travel farther across D.C. to find financially viable options. Attending regular therapy sessions off-campus can be a significant time commitment on top of our already demanding schedules.

Georgetown has expanded their efforts to support students financially in recent years; for example, an off-campus therapy stipend covers up to $500 in outpatient mental health care for students with significant financial hardship. But CAPS is still the most convenient and cost-effective option for many students to receive mental healthcare. At CAPS, a psychology session is $10 and a psychiatry session is $15. According to the Therapy Group of D.C., the average cost of a single therapy session in D.C. is $214. Most providers in D.C. do not directly take insurance and instead require a reimbursement process that entails paying the full cost up front.

An additional obstacle to transitioning to off-campus care is CAPS’ internal policies and communication surrounding splitcare, or delivering psychological and psychiatric treatment from different providers. My CAPS therapist assured me that I could receive care at CAPS until I had a stable therapist in D.C., but I received conflicting information from different providers about whether or not I could start psychiatric treatment at CAPS in September. I often felt like I was fighting an uphill battle of managing the bureaucratic rules of CAPS while simultaneously working hard to get through each day.

I wanted to begin treatment as soon as possible, so I asked my CAPS providers if I could start receiving medication from them. I was told they could not provide me with psychiatric care

while I was seeking out an external therapist, but I could reach out to CAPS in the event of a psychiatric emergency. At this point, I had no idea what would constitute such an emergency, nor did I know how CAPS defined it.

I got through this difficult time for many reasons—access to therapy and medication, financial resources, and my own resilience—but also because of the many people who have chosen to show up for me, even when doing so was scary or unglamorous or hard.

If you are wondering if you should reach out to someone and check in with them, do not worry that you are overstepping boundaries, that you aren’t good enough friends, that they will think you are weird: Do it. If you have the emotional and mental capacity yourself, ask them what they need. Above all, listen.

Advocate for your peers when they cannot.

But despite the power of individual action, I strongly believe that removing barriers to high-quality mental health care will ultimately account for the recovery of those with mental health disorders. CAPS should create a more standardized process for transitioning students to off-campus care, including robust educational and financial resources. Ultimately, Georgetown should invest in accommodating students’ mental health needs for more than one semester.

While all of the individual providers at CAPS worked hard to keep me safe and support me, the confusion within the system is unacceptable. In trying to advocate for myself, I felt like my mental health worsened due to the burden of navigating the system itself.

The quality of one’s mental health directly affects their ability to succeed academically and personally. Without future improvement, Georgetown fails students who otherwise could succeed and contribute to our community.

Devon O’Dwyer is a senior in the College studying government. She enjoys long walks on the beach and curating the perfect Spotify playlist.

Confidential Resources

Health Education Services (HES) sarp@georgetown.edu Counseling and Psychiatric Services (CAPS) 202-687-6985 National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1-800-273-8255

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APRIL 12, 2019

Mother Knows Best?

Balancing Stability with Courage

“Are you coming home this weekend?”

“I can’t. I’m busy.” I quickly tapped the letters to reject my mother, but I knew my attempt would fail.

My suspicion was confirmed by the message I received a few seconds later: “But after your dad left the country, nobody else is with me except for a cat that doesn’t talk. Keep me company.” “...Alright.”

I sighed as I began packing up my homework and laundry.

Once again, I’d been guilt-tripped by my own mother.

My mother, a psychiatrist, used extensive positive reinforcement to instill in me the value of stability, which came with comfort, safety, and a sense of home. When I was a toddler learning how to walk, she was paranoid that I would stumble, bruise my knees, and—God forbid!—break a few bones. She baited me to walk slowly with the promise of Barbie dolls and McDonald’s ice cream. As walking progressed to roller-skating, she always found a reason to stop me.

“Careful!” My mother yelled from a distance while I was buckling up my skates. I paused for a second, then continued.

I really wanted to explore the neighborhood with my eagerly waiting friends.

My mother came over before I could finish lacing up my skates. “C’mon, we are going out to dinner tonight,” she said, and held my hand as she took me back home.

As a teen, I moved around a lot within China. Each move, each separation and relocation, focused my sense of “home.” My father was frequently away on business trips, and his constant separation from our family rendered my mother my only connection to home. Staying with her helped me maintain the sense of stability I had grown accustomed to.

Eventually, we followed my dad to the United States. The strict procedures of obtaining a U.S. medical degree prevented my mother from practicing as a psychiatrist. The degrees she obtained from Chinese universities were rarely recognized by hiring managers.

My mom always believed that if you followed a stable path—go to school and get good grades—your hard work would pay off. But now, rather than relying on her expertise to get a job, she had to network. Networking requires the courage to speak up and ask for help, and at that point, my mom did not have that courage. After a disappointing job search process, she began to believe that courage was just as powerful as the traditional path of academic success. And so courage replaced stability as her barometer of success.

Her praises of my academic success were replaced with criticism that I was not experimental enough, labeling my lack of “courage” as my biggest character deficit. Her critiques failed to

alter my behavior, but they made me question my own desire for stability.

My mother painted a clear dichotomy between stability and courage. But my rational side always doubted and challenged this distinction. I consistently rejected risky choices out of self-preservation, but I also stepped out of my comfort zone to try playing volleyball and golf. Maybe stability and courage could coexist. But my mother didn’t accept this.

Once I went to college just 20 minutes away, this tension manifested itself in my mom’s texts begging me to come home.

My affinity for stability compelled me to go, but I never enjoyed my stays. And no matter how often I stepped out of my comfort zone, if I couldn’t resist my mother’s demands, did I have any courage at all?

During a recent weekend home, I realized I had to find a way to release myself from the negative feedback cycle that began with my mother’s critique and ended with my lowered self-esteem. To do so, I increased my alone time.

One night, on our way out to dinner, I leaned against the doorway until my mother finished putting on her winter jacket. Judging by her moving lips and furrowed eyebrows, she had said something. My earbuds, however, blocked her words—mostly. In between songs, I heard my mother’s complaints about my behavior, an unwelcome interruption from The Greatest Showman soundtrack.

At dinner I took off my headphones, per my mother’s request, but I decided to keep my phone out as a sort of separation and distraction from my mother. This invited such critiques as, “Why are you so obsessed with your phone? Talk to me. This isn’t what a family should be like.” But I didn’t care.

By distancing myself from my mother’s critiques during my subsequent visits home, I could finally sort through the clouds of confusion she had inspired. I listened to motivational songs that helped me process formative past experiences. I took afternoon strolls to clear my head. I decided that stability and courage are not contradictory at all; my life has been a mix of both experiences. I no longer felt any guilt desiring stability and possessing courage at the same time.

We finally had a relationship without constant conflict.

However, the deliberate distance I’d orchestrated between myself and my mother had eroded that relationship. Even though I couldn’t forgive my mother for her critiques, I felt that we needed another attempt at resolution.

I sat her down for a calm, rational, and effective conversation. My mother’s reaction wasn’t vastly different from our previous conversations, but my impression of her words had markedly changed. Although she continued to criticize me for lacking courage, and at one point refused to speak, the time that I had spent alone made it so my mother’s distractions and critiques no longer infuriated me.

I noticed her comments were rooted in a tendency to expel negativity that had resulted from years of holding a grudge.

When our family relocated to the U.S., her transition from a professional to a housewife was physically and mentally taxing.

My father and I had long ignored the tremendous pressure she suffered. As a result, she became increasingly quick-tempered and resentful of us.

Whenever she was furious, she’d repeat this line with a tone of indignation: “I used to have a career before I moved to the U.S. and became a housewife.”

“I sacrificed everything for you,” she would say.

Over the years, she has tried to stop her grudge from intervening in our relationship. Yet, she cannot forgive me for sabotaging her career, just as I cannot forgive her for scarring my personality.

But while the pain still haunts our relationship, the foundation of love persists. From her, I have a home, a sense of stability, to which I can return every weekend as I choose.

I have embraced my love for stability, and I’m proud of the ways I exhibit courage in my life. Now I can fully bathe in the stress-relieving environment of my home without second-guessing myself. I enjoy my stay, my cat, and of course, my mom.

Timmy Adami

Christine Sun is a freshman in the School of Foreign Service.

She listens to musicals while she procrastinates and spends a regrettable amount of money on caffeine and cat toys.

THE GEORGETOWN VOICE

7

VOICES

Piecing Together Disordered Eating olivia stevens “That will go straight to your thighs,” Zoë says to Tristan as he gazes longingly at the donut grasped in his hand.

“That’s why I’m eating it with my eyes and not my mouth,” he says, before discarding it.

This Degrassi scene passes by in just a moment and is never revisited. But it demonstrates the way that deprivation for fear of weight gain is normalized in teen TV shows.

In Mean Girls, Cady Heron promises Regina George that if she eats mysterious Swedish nutrition bars, she’ll lose weight.

In reality, athletes use the bars to bulk up.

Regina binge-eats the bars obsessively, becoming more and more frustrated when she gains weight instead of losing it.

She feels out of control while Cady uses her insecurities against her to attack her self-worth and her social standing. By gaining weight, Regina no longer fits the “appropriate” image of her friend group, and they reject her.

This negative portrayal is just one part of American culture’s idealization of the thin white female body type. The underlying implication here is that any weight gain is negative, and if you gain weight, you are worth less.

When I first watched Mean Girls, I didn’t think of Regina’s desperate turn to magical protein bars as disordered eating. Regina isn’t a sympathetic character, so the audience isn’t supposed to feel bad for her when she spirals out of control. But upon rewatching, I was struck by a sense of pity. Regina does some awful things in the movie, but she turns to protein bars in an attempt to control her body out of desperation. Her so-called friends manipulate her vulnerabilities for their own gain. This pushes her to disordered eating. *** Throughout college, I have wrestled with disordered eating. Honestly, I didn’t even know this was a term until recently. I had only seen disordered eating depicted in movies like Mean Girls, where it’s the butt of a joke. I thought my actions were normal.

Sometimes I don’t eat for hours, even most of a day at a time, for no real reason. I feel its effects through the dull ache at my temples, the dizziness, the head rush after sitting up too quickly, the numbness, the lack of energy, and the weakness in my limbs.

Sometimes instead of eating a full or nutritious meal, I’ll sip caffeinated soda just to feel my stomach distend over my waistband in a masquerade of fullness.

Disordered eating can also include strict diet and exercise routines, shame and guilt at the inability to stick to this routine, compulsive eating, the use of weight loss supplements, food restriction, fasting, purging, and laxative or diuretic use. What

distinguishes disordered eating from an eating disorder is the level of obsession with which someone performs these actions.

As the intensity of the compulsions increases, the development of an eating disorder becomes more likely.

A lot of my disordered eating aligns with periods of high stress and anxiety.

When anxiety makes everything else in my life feel out of control, I tend to stop eating. This provides me with a semblance of control. If I don’t eat, I don’t have enough energy to stress out.

While studying abroad, I believe that I dealt with situational depression. I felt isolated from the familiar communities I had developed at Georgetown, and I had a difficult time meeting new people. I was constantly lethargic, unengaged, and exhausted. I often wouldn’t eat for the majority of the day. When I finally did, I would eat anything I could get my hands on: often unhealthy (albeit convenient) junk food.

When I returned from studying abroad, I felt better. I was home, around friends and family, and I was happier. But I soon discovered I’d gained 20 pounds in that one semester, the largest weight fluctuation I had ever experienced.

As this semester began, I tried for a couple of weeks to get into a regular fitness routine, but then life took over. I got too busy and too stressed out to exercise. I was angry at myself for not being able to balance it all, so I returned to the same patterns that defined my life last year.

I feel intense shame and guilt at these patterns because my parents always taught me to eat right. Every choice not to eat healthily feels like defiance or ungratefulness.

Stress culture glorifies disordered eating. Similar to the way people complain about sleep deprivation or talk about how stressed they are, mentioning that you forgot to eat or haven’t eaten all day can be seen as a badge of honor. Wow, look at how hard she’s working. She’s sacrificing so much.

That can feel good to hear. At least someone is acknowledging the effort I’m putting in at the expense of my health.

For a while, I didn’t recognize that these disordered eating patterns are unhealthy. Whether by stress culture or societal focus on dieting, I had internally normalized disordered eating.

And it’s a self-reinforcing cycle. I don’t eat because I’m stressed, but then I don’t have enough energy to fulfill all my responsibilities, so I get more anxious and angry at myself and don’t eat.

We need to widen our scope of what disordered eating looks like. Just because someone isn’t gaining or losing weight doesn’t mean they have a healthy relationship with food. Much of the narrative around eating disorders centers around extreme weight loss or gain and relies on the stereotypical images of se-

vere anorexia and bulimia. But disordered eating can be difficult to pin down. It hides in the lack, in the forgotten, in the easily dismissable, in the “Whoops, I forgot. I’ll go get something now.”

I didn’t recognize it in myself until someone else expressed concern about my eating habits. It took me realizing that, after going home, my appetite had been greatly suppressed during my time abroad, that the portions I used to eat without an issue now felt insurmountable. I used to brush off my mom’s frequent remarks that she had skipped breakfast and lunch because she got caught up with work, but they now felt more like red flags.

At the beginning of the semester, I didn’t want anyone to point out that I had missed a meal or worse, scrutinize what I did eat. It made me feel self-conscious and uncomfortable. But over time, I realized I’m dealing with an actual problem.

I can’t say that I’m taking as many steps as I should be to get my eating habits back on track. In quintessential Georgetown fashion, I added breakfast, lunch, and dinner to my Google Calendar. This decision has been met with good-natured teasing from friends, asking, “You really need to be reminded to eat?”

Sometimes, I do.

The symptoms of disordered eating—skipping the donut for fear it’ll go straight to your thighs, or basing your social worth off your body weight—are often seen as just another form of dieting, but this trivializes what could be a stepping stone to something more serious. Thankfully, that hasn’t been the case for me, but it could have been. We need to combat the stress culture that values our perceived productivity over our health.

We need to check in with ourselves about our intentions—why we’re eating and why we’re not—to try to avoid heading down unhealthy paths.

I had reservations about sharing this story. I didn’t want weird looks or concern. I didn’t want anyone on the Voice to question my ability to do my job. I didn’t want anyone to brush this off as not a big deal, as typical unhealthy college eating habits. If you’re my friend, don’t ask me if I’ve eaten. Instead, suggest lunch plans. That way, I’ll be sure to schedule it in.

Sienna Brancato is a junior in the College and the managing editor of the Voice.

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APRIL 12, 2019

To Me:

Fraternities and Sororities on the Hilltop

By Jack Townsend Every September, as New Student Orientation winds down, Georgetown undergraduates receive words of caution in their inboxes. An email, this year from Dean of Students Jeanne Lord, tells students that the university does not endorse social fraternities and sororities because Greek life violates some of the university’s values.

Nationally, Greek life is on the defensive. At large state universities and elite private colleges alike, administrators are seeking to rein in Greek organizations that have been accused in recent years of ritually hazing recruits and abusing alcohol. Academic studies have shown that members of fraternities are three times more likely to commit sexual assault than non-members.

At the University of Michigan, Greek life’s own student-run supervisory board banned many of the parties and other social events the organizations are known for putting on. Florida State University went even further. After a student died during a fraternity hazing ritual, the administration banned all Greek organizations’ events. Fraternities can no longer hold the large parties that characterized their existence at Florida State.

About 10 percent of Georgetown students participate in Greek life, according to GUSA’s website. For the most part, the organizations have no dedicated houses, and students have other parties to go to. As a result, Greek life can be something of an afterthought at a school with a legendary “club culture” in a city with a vibrant bar scene. Members of fraternities and sororities are now trying to navigate the tension between Greek life’s national reputation and the tamer existence the groups have on campus.

Asher Curnutte (COL ’21) grew up in Nashville, Tennessee, around the kinds of fraternities that have sparked the national conversation around Greek life. At football games and pre-game tailgates, he said, he was accustomed to seeing Greek letters.

But Georgetown’s fraternities were not on his radar when he arrived on campus last year. He said he did not even know they existed at Georgetown until he saw a flyer on campus. Sigma Phi Epsilon (SigEp) was among the clubs he signed up for in the first few weeks of school, but he didn’t make it through that fall’s recruitment—or “rush”—cycle.

“I had joined rugby, and I felt like I had other groups, so I was totally fine with that,” he said. “Some of the friends on my

floor got into SigEp and had the whole fall semester and absolutely loved it. I saw them having events and places to go and people to hang out with.”

So in the spring, still trying to find a community on campus, Curnette tried again and got a bid to join the fraternity.

“I’ve loved it ever since.”

But for Curnutte and the other members of Georgetown’s Greek system, only a part of their lives is Greek.

Sarah Ryan (SFS ’21) took issue with the administration’s portrayal of Greek life as insular in the annual email.

It argues that Greek life runs counter to the school’s Jesuit values, like cura personalis, Latin for “care for the whole person.”

Ryan has found that being a part of Kappa Kappa Gamma does not mean that she is split off from the rest of the campus community. Like many of her sorority sisters, Ryan said, she has a part-time job off campus and is involved with several on-campus groups.

Despite their defenses of Greek life, each member that the Voice interviewed acknowledged that fraternities and sororities can be exclusive to some students.

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THE GEORGETOWN VOICE

There are explicit financial barriers to joining a Greek organization. In SigEp, brothers spend hundreds of dollars on dues and other costs every semester, and only a limited number of scholarships are available to cover them. And because of the fraternity’s membership, which skews white and well-off, students who do not fit that description can find the group intimidating or exclusive.

Curnutte said that the university’s refusal to recognize Greek organizations contributes to the group’s homogeneity. They could recruit more effectively and find a more diverse group of new members if they had access to the benefits the university offers groups it recognizes, he argued.

Josiah Laney (SFS ’21), another member of SigEp, put it more bluntly.

“I’m always stressing the idea that it’s very important to have boards representative of the population that we want to attract.”

During recruitment, he said, “if you get up there and you have a group of, like, Boston white guys, you’re gonna get a bunch of Boston white guys who went to prep school. That’s just the reality.”

Laney acknowledged that problem is not easy to address. He has also tried to convince the group to lower the costs associated with being a member of SigEp. After the group’s mandatory weekly chapter meetings, many members of the frat go out to dinner in small groups. Laney said he has tried to change that tradition to encourage upperclassmen to cook dinner for their brothers.

“That’s a super easy way to cut costs. And I feel like that’s learning to be a better person,” he said. “That’s a life skill.”

Opponents argue, though, that the deeper problem with social fraternities is the environment they foster which permits sexual assault.

“If you get up there and you have a group of, like, Boston white guys, you’re gonna get a bunch of Boston white guys who went to prep school. That’s just the reality.”

Georgetown’s annual email says the university’s non-recognition of Greek life partially stems from the groups’ alleged participation in “high-risk behavior” like alcohol abuse and hazing. But the email does not specifi-

cally mention the sexual assault which pervades Greek life nationally.

Georgetown is no oasis free from sexual misconduct, and the SigEp brothers know that. They said their chapter has brought in outside resources to help train its members to recognize and defuse potential instances of sexual assault.

“I think taking that first step is important, and we’ve done that,” Laney said. “But I think our pitfall is that we don’t have enough follow up on these issues.”

Nonetheless, Laney said that SigEp has done a good job— better, he thought, than other fraternities on campus—in taking initial steps to address sexual assault. In the future, Laney wants the group to plan its response if a brother is suspected of committing a sexual assault or if there is a risk one might.

He listed some other ideas: monitoring party attendees more closely, creating a way to report suspected assaults, and improving the disciplinary process for members who are suspected of committing assaults.

“These are tangible next steps that we could take, but they haven’t been made. Or they haven’t been made publicly,” Laney said. “And that’s not good enough.”

Like Laney, Ryan did not acquit Georgetown’s Greek organizations of the faults of Greek organizations nationally. But she suggested that other campus organizations had similar issues as well.

“I think it’s unfair,” she said. Ryan said that she has heard people in other, university-recognized groups describe the experiences—hazing and sexual assault—that prompt the university’s refusal to recognize Greek organizations.

“They need to take a step back and look at all these other organizations where that’s happening,” Ryan said.

For some members, the benefits of Georgetown’s social Greek life outweigh the risks. Caitland Love (COL ’21) started college sure that Greek life was not for her. She grew up in Texas surrounded by stories that cast Greek life as a bastion of sexual assault and alcohol abuse. High school friends who went to big schools in Texas have encountered those things first-hand, she said.

Growing up, she saw membership in sororities as an excuse to drink a lot, a holdover from a starkly different past.

“I see it as a domestic thing, a leftover tradition from a time when women were supposed to fill a specific role,” Love said.

“And at state schools now, it’s very preppy. It tends to attract a certain socio-economic group and racial group.”

She did not consider rushing a sorority until a family member convinced her that there might be more to Greek life than she thought.

Kappa Kappa Gamma, for instance, works with Reading is Fundamental, a children’s literacy organization. They also run events that try to inspire a tight community among the sorority’s members. When Love met the members of Kappa Kappa Gamma and saw they do more than go to parties, she changed her mind.

“That’s the lowest level of what we do,” she said. “I don’t see there being a stigma around it because I know it’s not the same as it is at other schools.”

Still, Love said that the group is aware of the risks associated with a Greek social life.

Love said that her sorority does more than host and attend mixers with other Greek organizations. Careful not to cast aspersions, she was conscious of the risks fraternities and

Greek life can be something of an afterthought on a campus with legendary “club culture” in a city with a vibrant bar scene.

sororities present, even on Georgetown’s campus, where fraternities are less influential than at other schools. Her experience at Georgetown has not changed her view of Greek life in general, either.

“It hasn’t necessarily changed my opinion about sororities and fraternities at other schools,” she said. “I just think there’s more space here for places to meet people to be friends.”

Addressing Georgetown students who might compare Greek organizations at Georgetown with those at other schools, Love wondered whether they have really met her or her sisters.

“I’m a low-income student in a sorority. That’s a very rare thing, but there’s a couple other students in GSP in my sorority,” she said. “I think that is shocking to people when they don’t know that. I find that the sorority I’m in is very liberal and empowering. I don’t see that in other schools.”

Despite her affection for her sorority, the national reality of Greek life keeps Love from wearing Greek letters on her sleeve.

“It’s a part of my identity that I struggle with,” she said. “I don’t like telling people that I’m in a sorority. I don’t put it on my resumé and stuff because I think what it is to me is not what it is or means to other people.”

Like Love, Curnutte said that being in SigEp is not the largest part of his identity. But he is more forthright about his membership.

“I proudly tell people I’m a part of SigEp,” he said. He is proud of what they accomplish—philanthropically, personally—and of who the members are as people.

“I’m always happy to try and show that to people,” he said.

“And I hope that when they meet me and find out I’m in SigEp, they say, ‘Oh, that’s not what I pictured.’”

Design: Josh KLein

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APRIL 12, 2019

JACO

B BILIC

H

BY ANNEMARIE CUCCIA Asked about her GUSA policy team, Macky Grimm (COL ’21) hesitated. “I don’t really have one,” she said. When pressed, she admitted, “It’s just me.” Grimm, the chair of GUSA’s LGBTQ+ advocacy team, has spent the past several months working with students and administrators, proposing university policy changes, and conducting research—and she’s done it alone.

Grimm’s story is unusual in the amount of responsibility she has taken on by herself, but she is not alone in driving change as a GUSA policy chair. The GUSA executive has 29 advocacy teams in total, each under one of four umbrellas: student affairs, campus life, student inclusion and advocacy, and university affairs. These students are not elected officials, but they devote their free time and energy to working within the GUSA and university bureaucracies. Now, as a new GUSA administration takes the reins and forms new teams, outgoing policy chairs have a chance to reflect on their work.

Policy teams were first created in 2016 by GUSA President Enushe Khan (MSB ’17) and Vice President Chris Fisk (COL ’17) to combine two tenets of the previous system: under-secretaries in the executive branch and senate committees. The new structure was intended to help the executive get more students involved in policy advocacy and facilitate better relationships

with the GUSA Senate. Khan and Fisk ran on a platform of making GUSA more inclusive of all students.

“I think that restructuring to allow more students who are passionate about certain issues to take part in driving policy is one of the first ways to do it,” said Fisk in an 2016 interview with the Voice.

Policy chairs apply for their positions at the beginning of each administration and are confirmed by the senate. Each chair oversees a team and collaborates with senate liaisons to improve campus in ways related to their policy area. Last year, the senate restructured its committees to give each policy team a dedicated senator to work with the executive-nominated chair.

Grimm applied to fill the LGBTQ+ team’s chair position to encourage Georgetown to support its LGBTQ students. “It can be pretty intimidating [for LGBTQ students] coming to a Catholic school,” she said. The university does not require any diversity training around treatment of gender and sexuality for students or faculty, and Grimm said that policies on the allowed gender of roommates for transgender and non-binary students are unclear.

One of Grimm’s biggest projects is encouraging professors to ask students to specify which pronouns they use alongside

their names while calling roll on the first day of class. Grimm said this change would be easy to implement and help transgender and non-binary students feel more welcome in class. The idea has received support from faculty and staff and is similar to policies at other universities but has not received support from the administration, Grimm said.

Grimm has tried to initiate a broader movement toward using more inclusive language on syllabi and in classes. A policy encouraging inclusive language passed the Faculty Senate but did not include information about how it planned to move forward. While Grimm was encouraged by the changes made in some of her classes, the university does not yet have a comprehensive policy.

Gabby Brault (SFS ’21) said she was never before drawn to working in student government, but she saw the value in having policy teams to advocate for underrepresented students on campus and decided to apply. It is crucial that policy and advocacy teams include people who represent the issues they work on, Brault said. She has used her own experiences as a low-income student during her tenure as the Socioeconomic Policy Chair. “I hate it, I absolutely despise it, when there are people who aren’t representative of the community in a policy area,” she said.

THE GEORGETOWN VOICE

At the beginning of this semester, Brault organized a school supplies drive that she coined, “Lend to a Friend.”

“The idea was to reduce waste on campus by having Hoyas support other Hoyas,” she said. During the drive, students donated more than 200 notebooks, folders, and other items.

Brault ended up having to buy supplemental items because all of the donations were taken on the first day of distribution. The speed at which the donations were taken was exciting for Brault but also showed that there is a clear need for more programs like this. She is planning a similar collection at the end of the semester and hopes to work with Residential Living to collect dorm supplies as well.

Brault is also working to decrease the cost of attending classes on campus and abroad. She is creating a guide for low-income students on how to finance study abroad programs and developing a proposal to include information in MyAccess about the cost of textbooks and other materials for each class so that students can avoid unwittingly registering for classes they cannot afford. “According to the university, at Georgetown you should expect to spend $600 a semester on books and materials, which is a ridiculous price in my opinion,” she said. “Depending on which classes you take, it ends up being exceptionally more than that.”

Brault was also hoping to learn more about the university’s policy of displacing university-given financial aid with outside scholarships, but she said she struggled to get information from Georgetown administrators. “I would email specific people, the financial aid office, the office of strategic communication, and just never get any response,” she said. She said that without information from the university, it was nearly impossible for her to move forward.

A lack of information can stymie projects for many policy teams, Brault said. In her experience, policy chairs often have to communicate to relevant administrators through the GUSA executives and rarely get to sit in on meetings with administrators or directly consult university officials.

While administrators mean well, Nkechi Nwokorie (NHS ’20), chair of the Racial and Cultural Inclusivity Committee, said she feels they often need student guidance to join the conversation. Nwokorie had only been the head of the committee for a few months, but her previous experience as a member of the team helped inform her perception of the administration.

“Administrators want to have these channels of communication open, they want to be able to engage with students, but they feel as though they don’t know when to step in and when they’re overstepping,” she said.

Nwokorie’s policy suggestions have been largely shaped by interactions between students and university officials. A town hall hosted by her team in December 2018 began conversations between students and administrators around race and culture at Georgetown that she would like to continue.

“Our main goal is to be a liaison between the administration and the students on campus,” she said. Nwokorie perceives a disconnect between the students and the administration when it comes to university policies and potential policy changes.

Nwokorie is confident she can use the knowledge she has already gained to set a policy agenda while continuing to learn from administration. To this end, Nwokorie has developed a list of potential policies for the team to work on.

One example is a proposal for a blind grading system.

Nwokorie believes this system is important to avoid implicit racial bias in grading. But the most important of the policies, she said, is a racial climate survey, similar to the sexual assault climate survey students filled out in March. The Office of the Provost has already begun drafting the survey, and Nwokorie

11

is working with them to ensure the survey receives answers her team can use to move forward.

Grimm, however, has felt the university has limited the amount of policy change she has been able to pursue.

She said has struggled working with administrators who offered support in meetings but did little to change their public policies. “It’s frustrating that they say they’re doing all they can, but I can’t even get a clear perspective on what that is,” she said.

In the fall, Grimm asked administrators to discuss implementing languages changes and was directed to the resource page for LGBTQ students rather than being offered a meeting.

The university also does not make its policies clear on many issues that are important to LGBTQ students, Grimm said, such as name changes and restroom accessibility. She worries the lack of transparency on these issues could dissuade potential Georgetown students from applying. Grimm believes the university neglects LGBTQ issues more than other policy areas and that the university has been slow to accommodate LGBTQ students.

“A lot of the time people in these positions don’t think of saying ‘I did this’ for recognition, but that undervalues the importance of communicating with the people you’re trying to work for.”

Administrators are always available to students trying to create change on campus, wrote university spokesperson Matt Hill in an email to the Voice. “University leaders welcome outreach from students and can provide helpful information and perspectives as students gather input and develop proposals, programs, and more,” Hill wrote. “While many university leaders and staff regularly meet with students, GUSA advisors are always available to facilitate introductions and encourage meetings, dialogue, and collaboration.”

Escadar Alemayehu (NHS ’22) has found the administration to be generally receptive to her requests. “As a member of the Student Health Advisory Board, I have loved working with the administrators I have known,” she wrote in an email to the Voice. “They are responsive and interested in helping students.”

She said the only problem she has faced with administrators is that they do not always have the authority to grant her requests, which can slow down policy changes.

As the mental health policy chair, Alemayehu has worked with the administration and students on the mental health stipend, which allows students to seek therapy and mental health services off campus for free. Her other projects include working toward a Counseling and Psychiatric Services (CAPS) ambassa-

dor program to help increase knowledge on campus about the services CAPS provides.

Nwokorie plans to continue building relationships between university officials and students. Before the town hall last semester, she said some administrators felt uneasy about how the discussion would go. “They didn’t know whether they were going to get yelled at or how the students would feel toward them,” she said. “Especially administrators who don’t come from specific marginalized identities or are in a place of privilege.” But after the event, she said more administrators began to understand the need for reform.

Despite holding different opinions on the university administration, these four policy chairs appreciated former President and Vice President Juan Martinez (SFS ’20) and Kenna Chick (SFS ’20) for communicating with the administration and helping to implement policy. Nwokorie felt that Martinez and Chick were especially adept at supporting members of marginalized identity groups. “When I was in that room with them, I felt heard and supported,” she said.

For proposals that were not adopted, Alemayehu said it was mainly a matter of limited time. “It sometimes felt like there wasn’t enough time to finish a project because we had a smaller term,” she said. “I think that unfortunately, it limited the amount of things they were able to accomplish.” Martinez and Chick took office in September 2018 after the previous GUSA executives suddenly resigned, making their term much shorter than most.

Another challenge for several policy chairs is that students outside GUSA are often not aware of the work they do. For Alemayehu, one cause of this lack of knowledge is how specific the projects are. “In all reality, several of the projects we have worked on might only impact certain members of the community, so the general student body may have to seek a specific service to see new policies in place,” she wrote.

Brault feels that one solution is having GUSA collaborate with more established university departments, such as the Center for Multicultural Equity and Access and the Center for Social Justice. “No one knows what happens in GUSA because no one thinks to advertise it with departments that are related to the work,” she said.

More policy chairs and advocates should share their work with the broader university community, Nwokorie said, but she thinks it is ultimately GUSA’s job to publicize the projects. “A lot of the time people in these positions don’t think of saying ‘I did this’ for recognition, but that undervalues the importance of communicating with the people you’re trying to work for,” she said.

All four plan to continue to be involved, one way or another, under the new GUSA administration. Nwokorie hopes to continue on her team, and Alemayehu wants to work on a new, external board on student health. Grimm is also applying to continue as chair, with a focus on D.C. restroom policy and restroom accessibility for transgender and non-binary students.

GUSA President Norman Francis Jr. (COL ’20) and Vice President Aleida Olvera (COL ’20) are currently recruiting new policy chairs. While they see the role of policy teams being similar in their administration, they do hope to improve outreach.

“Our administration hopes to bolster the roles of policy teams by making their work more open to the public through better newsletter coverage and potentially more events like open halls,” Olvera wrote in an email to the Voice.

Though Brault will be abroad next semester, she feels she has to stay involved in her policy team because of the opportunity it gives her to effect change within the university. “I don’t like GUSA, I don’t like the institution of GUSA,” she said. “But I do think it’s a platform I can use to make change that benefits people in a real way.”

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APRIL 12, 2019

Swiping Out Food Insecurity, One Meal at a Time

By Roman Peregrino Ally Smith

Swipe. “Next!” This is a familiar refrain heard by every Georgetown student in the Leo O’Donovan Dining Hall on any given day. Swipe.“Next!” They take back their GOCards and enter the downstairs eating area. Swipe.“Next!”

While many on campus are able to easily hand over their GOCard to Suru, there are others facing food insecurity who have to think twice. Over the past few months, students have taken the lead on a variety of projects at Georgetown that aim to tackle food insecurity, and they are now looking to expand these programs into the future.

The term “food insecurity” refers to persistent difficulties in obtaining enough food for a healthy life, including cost and accessibility barriers. Food insecurity affects more than just the stomach, according to Yuki Kato, a Georgetown professor of sociology.

“Food is fundamentally cultural, social, and political, and being ‘food insecure’ has ramifications in all of these realms,” Kato wrote in an email to the Voice. “Not having enough or nutritiously rich food could affect their academic performance, personal relationships, and have long-term health consequences.”

A 2016 GUSA survey found that 54 percent of the 351 students polled had experienced food insecurity during their time at Georgetown. Two-thirds of those food insecure students were on financial aid, which means at least part of their meal plan was covered by the university.

The university has worked with various campus groups, including GUSA and Aramark, Georgetown’s food services contractor, to understand and address the issue. “The University’s Council on Student Equity and Access has undertaken a more thorough study of options to address issues of food insecurity in our community,” a university spokesperson wrote in an email to the Voice.

However, students such as Izzy Ortiz (MSB ’20) have started to take charge on finding solutions across campus. For Ortiz, this took the form of a pilot program where students could donate meal swipes which became vouchers that other students could later redeem.

On Feb. 14., Valentine’s Day, Ortiz partnered with Georgetown’s Interhall Council and the nonprofit organization Swipe Out Hunger to lead a one-day campaign where students could donate a meal swipe.

“It was a good day to do it because it was showing love, community, and support,” Ortiz said. “Share some love and donate a meal to your fellow Hoya.”

GOCard systems at Leo’s, Royal Jacket, Crop Chop, and Einstein’s Bagels were all programmed to accept one extra swipe if the student requested to donate it. By the end of the day, 538 meals had been donated. “It was a huge success,” Ortiz said.

“We were very happy with it.”

Ortiz laid the groundwork for this project in July, when she realized that to make real change, she would first need to look off campus for help. So she partnered with Swipe Out Hunger, a program that works with universities across the country to end student hunger, to create a plan.

When Ortiz came back to campus, she realized that the process of creating a club on campus would be difficult, so she looked for another partner and found one in Interhall Council, a student organization that seeks to improve residential life on campus.

Alandro Valdez (COL ’21), Interhall Council vice president of advocacy, said that Interhall was happy to help in any way it could. “We invited her to partner with us to help set up the meal swipe program so we could provide her and the program with an institutional place at Georgetown and whatever monetary support was needed,” Valdez said.

Ortiz and Interhall worked for the rest of the fall semester to make the meal swipe donation program a reality. They collaborated with Auxiliary Business Services and Aramark to figure out the necessary technology. Valdez noted that Swipe Out Hunger’s previous partnerships with other Aramark-affiliate colleges provided a useful model for the initiative. “We didn’t have to start from scratch,” he said. “We had a template to go off of.”

This led to the Valentine’s Day donation program, which exceeded its original goal of 500 total donations. However, for Ortiz, these donations are just the first step in a long process to oppose food insecurity. “This was obviously a pilot program,” she said. “We want to see how it goes.”

Another key partner for Ortiz has been the Hoya Hub, a free pantry stocked with non-perishable food items and other goods located on the fourth floor of Leavey. The Hub opened in October 2018, and this service is available to any student, regardless of demonstrated need, as a resource to combat food insecurity.

The Hoya Hub worked alongside Ortiz and Swipe Out Hunger by offering vouchers, advertising, and tabling. “We saw a ton of crossover between Swipe Out Hunger’s mission and

ours,” Caroline Barnes (COL ’19), chair and co-founder of Hoya Hub, wrote in a statement to the Voice. “A large part of our work as the Hoya Hub is being an ‘umbrella’ group to support other initiatives and students who are also trying to tackle this wicked problem that is food insecurity.”

The Hoya Hub has proven to be useful for many in the university community, according to Erika Cohen-Derr, assistant vice president of student affairs. She wrote in an email to the Voice that a 200-person survey of people who have used the Hoya Hub showed that they were 70 percent undergraduate students, 25 percent graduate students, and 5 percent other members of the university community.

Its services will also soon be expanding, according to Julianne Licamele (COL ’21), co-chair of the Hoya Hub. “The Hoya Hub itself is currently transitioning from a group of volunteers that started the food pantry into a CSJ organization,” Licamele wrote in a statement to the Voice. “We will be able to work on issues beyond the food pantry itself. We hope to be engaged with advocacy work, partnerships with other organizations on campus, and more programs that address food insecurity.”

Other options on campus to combat food insecurity include events such as the recent Stock the Pantry food drive (run by the Hoya Hub) and grocery stipends provided to Georgetown Scholars Program students during breaks, when Leo’s is closed.

These programs are only part of the future of combating food insecurity. Ortiz also hopes to spark a conversation about food insecurity. “It is really stigmatized and people don’t want to talk about it,” Ortiz said. She said people who use the donated meal swipes and the Hoya Hub are kept anonymous. “We never want anyone to feel uncomfortable.”

In the future, Ortiz sees an opportunity to expand this operation into the community. “We can bring [food from campus] into the community or any homeless population that needs it,” Ortiz said. “That’s just part of the next steps we need to take and learning from the process.”

For now, Ortiz is working to encourage students to come pick up vouchers for the donated meal swipes from the Women’s Center or the Hoya Hub. The swipes will expire in May. Regardless, she is already looking to the bright future of the program. “There is a lot of talk about what our next steps are,” Ortiz said. “I think it is only going to go up from here.”

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THE GEORGETOWN VOICE

Native Students and the Piscataway Fight for Greater Recognition

By Caroline Hamilton Almost any Georgetown student could tell you that the university was founded in 1789. Almost any Georgetown student could also tell you that the university’s founder was John Carroll.

However, only a few people could tell you what came before Carroll and the university. Mario Harley, vice chair of the Piscataway Conoy Tribal Council, is one of those few.

“Our ancestors called that area home,” Harley said of the land on which Georgetown stands. “We still recognize it as our home.”

Now, the Piscataway and the Georgetown University Native American Student Council (NASC) are fighting for the recognition of that history. On April 3, NASC delivered a petition to University President John DeGioia calling for greater inclusion of indigenous students on campus.

The petition lists a number of demands, including the establishment of an indigenous studies program, an active effort to hire indigenous faculty, and the “formal University acknowledgement of the occupation of Piscataway land.”

The Piscataway people and their ancestors have lived in southern Maryland for more than 13,000 years, Harley said. They first encountered Jesuit missionaries in 1634, and though their relationship was peaceful, it was unbalanced.

“We gave a lot and got little,” Harley said.

Most of the Piscataway converted to Catholicism, and their tribal government agreed to a series of treaties with the Maryland colonial government. “Each time, we lost a little bit of sovereignty, a little bit of our rights as a people,” Harley said.

Harley is a member of one of two distinct Piscataway groups in the D.C. metro area. Both his tribe—the Piscataway Conoy—and the Piscataway Indian Nation, were recognized in 2012 by then-Governor of Maryland Martin O’Malley after decades of lobbying. Official recognition frees up federal funding and makes it easier for indigenous-owned businesses to qualify as minority business enterprises.

“American Indians have, through their cultural heritage, historical influence, and participation in public life, and helped to make the State of Maryland the great State that it is today,” the orders read.

Kelsey Lawson (SFS ’19), president of NASC, believes that the university owes the Piscataway the same type of acknowledgement. “Native students have not been able to find a community at Georgetown for reasons related to an institutional lack of support and awareness,” the club’s petition reads.

Land recognition is only one of NASC’s demands, but the club’s members—and the Piscataway members they consulted to draft the petition—view it as an important step in the right direction.

Some North American universities, like the University of Toronto and Northwestern University, have recently published statements of land recognition, thanking local indigenous peoples for the land on which their respective schools are built. NASC’s petition calls for the university’s “acknowledgement” of the Piscataway’s history at every school-sponsored event. “While a land acknowledgement is not enough, it is an important social justice and decolonial practice that promotes indigenous visibility and a reminder that we are on sacred land,” Harley wrote in a proposed statement to be read at these events.

The idea of land recognition has gained some traction among Georgetown students and faculty. When NASC submitted thep-

Above: Francis Gray, the Piscataway Conoy Tribal chairman. etition to DeGioia’s office on April 3, it had over 600 signatures.

As of April 10, the administration had not responded to NASC directly, but Matt Hill, a university spokesperson, wrote in an email to the Voice that the university is looking at the issue.

“We take the issues raised seriously and are committed to better understanding the experiences of our Native American students.

We look forward to further engaging with these student leaders and working together to ensure Georgetown offers them and the broader community the appropriate resources and support,” Hill wrote.

Lawson believes land recognition should be part of a greater effort to reckon with the needs of indigenous communities. She pointed out that Georgetown has taken more steps to grapple with the historical legacy of another minority group displaced by the Jesuits: the 272 enslaved people sold by the Jesuits of Maryland in 1838 to keep Georgetown financially afloat.

“Georgetown is recognizing the legacy of slavery,” Lawson said. “But in terms of recognizing the legacy of settler colonialism, they’re not really doing much.”

On April 11, undergraduates voted in a referendum on whether to create a reconciliation fund to benefit descendants of the 272. The university has also launched a Slavery, Memory, and Reconciliation initiative that includes archival projects and a class entitled “Facing Georgetown’s History.”

NASC calls for similar forms of recognition for indigenous communities but has not yet found a receptive audience. So, with the help of Piscataway activists, NASC will hold a university teachin on April 15 to raise awareness about the history of indigenous people in the Americas, especially with regard to the university.

Since last spring, Piscataway activism has been focused on Georgetown’s proposed solar project in La Plata, Maryland. The installation, which would provide almost half of the university’s electricity, would require clear-cutting more than 200 acres of forest historically claimed by the Piscataway. Though European colonial expansion steadily pushed the tribe farther north into Maryland and south into Virginia, the area was once home to Piscataway farms and townships.

At a public hearing on Feb. 27, Piscataway activists, including Valarie Proctor, voiced their objections to the project. “Despite the

photo courtesy of Mario Harley

importance of this forest to the ecosystem of southern Maryland and to the Piscataway community, Georgetown and Origis have not consulted the tribe in the process thus far,” Proctor said at the hearing.

Edwin Moses, the managing director of project development for Origis, the company building the installation for Georgetown, told the Voice that the company conducted an archeological survey and held multiple hearings and community meetings before deciding on the site for the installation.

Harley believes that though the Piscataway no longer live in the area, they still have an obligation to protect and care for the land. He suggested Georgetown seek out alternate sites for the project. “As opposed to decimating a pristine environment that has deep cultural ties to our ancestors, as well as us today, it may be a better alternative to reevaluate open areas that are already cleared farmland.”

From developments like the La Plata solar project and the Dakota Access Pipeline to disproportionately high suicide rates and instances of violence against indigenous women, many indigenous organizations are facing uphill battles. They are confronted with a number of obstacles when it comes to inclusion and protection.

NASC is no exception. Currently, it has only four active members, short of the 12 required to receive university club benefits.

This year, the club has decided not to hold its annual spring powwow, citing a lack of participation. “It wasn’t sustainable,” Lawson said. “It requires a lot of time and energy, and usually only one person did it.”

The Piscataway Tribal Council also recognizes its changing role in the D.C. metro area. Thirty years ago, as a D.C. public school student, Harley said he was taught that the Piscataway were an extinct tribe. “And that was definitely not the case,” he said.

So the Tribal Council has focused on education justice, teaching Piscataway students about their own history and advocating for the inclusion of indigenous stories in school curricula.

“D.C. itself is a very transient area,” Harley said. “So very few people know the history of the land.” He said that Georgetown students in particular, who may only live in D.C. for a few years, could benefit from learning about Piscataway history.

“There are still caretakers of this land, still holding it sacred.”

April 12, 2019

ou r tes y of to C

Shazam!

Starts Bright, Only to Fizzle Out

Pho

LEISURE

IMD B

14

By Nicole Lai Nobody is born a hero, but anybody can become one. This sentiment saturates DC’s latest film, Shazam!—a teen-friendly flick that follows the journey of a 14-year-old boy who is suddenly, and magically, transformed into a buff, crime-fighting superhero. Directed by horror filmmaker David Sandberg, the film attempts to bridge the gap between quick-fire slapstick comedy and actual character development. While it frequently misses the mark, Shazam! still crawls out as a messy but tolerable addition to the DC universe, producing a number of sincere laughs and heart-tugging moments.

Sandberg’s horror-based influence is on display from the opening sequence. His works, which include Lights Out (2016) and Annabelle: Creation (2017), frequently deal with themes of childhood and family and how the events of our past play a role in shaping who we grow up to be. In Shazam!, the audience learns the origin story of the villain, Thaddeus Sivana (Mark Strong), rather than that of the hero. During an argument with his father and older brother, a young Sivana is suddenly transported to the Rock of Eternity—a magical temple controlled by the elderly wizard Shazam (Djimon Hounsou). Yes, his name is Shazam.

Shazam is responsible for keeping evil at bay after his first apprentice went rogue and unleashed the Seven Deadly Sins upon humanity. The Sins are now trapped in statues, waiting to be set free. When the Sins tempt Sivana into the promise of power with a glowing orb, he fails Shazam’s test to prove that he is pure of heart. This leads to his return back to Earth and the beginning of his frustrating search for a way to once more enter the Rock of Eternity.

Sivana’s quest becomes intertwined with Billy Batson’s search for family and belonging. While an adult Sivana hunts for answers, the young Batson (Asher Angel), living in Philadelphia, is in determined pursuit of his mother, whom he was separated from at an early age. After his antics get him kicked out of numerous foster homes, Batson finds himself under the care of sunny foster parents Victor and Rosa Vazquez (Cooper Andrews and Marta Millins). He encounters group of young misfits, which include the bright and charming Darla (Faithe Herman), as well as his nerdy roommate Freddy (Jack Dylan Grazer). A weakened Shazam brings the strong-willed Batson to his temple and insists that he take on the role of champion.

His new powers allow him to transform into an adult superhero (Zachary Levi) without losing his prepubescent mentality.

While the adventures that follow are predictable, they do not detract from the winning, comical duo of Levi and Grazer.

Batson’s transformation into an attractive adult man leads the two to indulge in “adult” warfare, including stopping crime, visiting strip clubs, and buying alcohol. Shazam! is a Princess Diaries-esque transformation story in which Batson has to choose between his newly discovered powers and the people he cares about.

Yet, the film eventually loses its awkward, endearing charm.

Sivana re-enters the scene with the power of the Sins behind him, hungry for Batson’s inherited powers. While initially a nuanced character with a compelling origin story, Sivana loses his appeal, instead becoming a simplistic caricature, motivated by blind ambition, rather than a man searching for belonging.

Batson’s family narrative takes precedence at the loss of Sivana’s complexity. The villain’s lust for glory and vengeance becomes laughable as he and Batson engage in a flying battle above Philadelphia. The Seven Deadly Sins are unconvincingly animated, appearing like ugly gargoyles that fail to match the characteristics they represent as creatures that encapsulate the worst parts of humanity.

Shazam! screams lost potential. Freddy never grows past feeling frustrated and envious of his roommate’s superhuman abilities. Darla is adorable but one-dimensional. There is too much discrepancy between Angel’s child Batson and Levi’s adult Batson. Levi’s performance seems to depict an entirely different character—one that is juvenile, hormonal, and, frankly, rather irritating. Yet, it is Angel’s performance that is truly worthy of Shazam’s powers. Torn between settling in with a foster family that wants him or chasing his fantasy of finding his biological mother, Angel showcases anxieties about belonging and identity, giving him an enticing vulnerability.

The most important takeaway from Shazam! is that home is not a location, but a sensation, defined and curated by the people and the love that surrounds us. It passes as an underdog story of a lost boy turned into a man. It is ultimately not the “super” element of Shazam! that makes it appealing, but instead the glimpses of family underneath its commercial structure.

Superhero films have the power to affect our perception of the world we live in; they manifest unexplainable evils into tangible villains and transform the best parts of human nature into heroic qualities. They show us that anybody has the potential to tip the scale. Shazam! could have ushered in a new era for DC: one that combines humor with humanity and heart. While it fails to fully deliver on that task, Shazam! gives us a tantalizing insight into the possibility of a fresh, relatable DC superhero— one that we can find inside all of us.

Photo: IMDB

15

THE GEORGETOWN VOICE

by Skyler Coffey On the third floor of the Smithsonian American Art Museum, the elevator door opens to face three four-foot tall canvases painted a deep, glowing red. In bold white font, they read: “ONE THING,” “1965,” and “VIET-NAM.” The starkness of the piece conveys a sense of violence. This is how Artists Respond: American Art and the Vietnam War, 1965-1975 begins—with a jolt.

The floor consists of five galleries connected by a single hallway. True to its title, Artists Respond, every single work in this exhibition presents a commentary on the Vietnam War. Within this overarching topic, the art is organized by theme, creating a comprehensive narrative that details commonalities in the artists’ perspectives and uses of genre. These works express individual narratives and ask the viewers questions to which they are not supposed to know the answer.

The first gallery, “Living Room War,” focuses on the significance of the Vietnam War as the first widely televised, real-time military conflict. Specifically, Martha Rosler’s “House Beautiful: Bringing the War Home” (1967-72) series fascinatingly explores the idea of bringing the violence of the Vietnam War into the comfort and safety of American households. One of the most powerful images from this series is titled “Pat Nixon.” The First Lady stands in an elegant, golden outfit amidst matching decor, presumably inside the White House. The only area without a warm hue is the small picture in an oval frame above her head, a photograph of a Vietnamese woman contorted in pain, bloodstains spotting her dress. This abnormality does not reveal itself immediately, but once noticed, it becomes the absolute focus of the piece, creating a striking juxtaposition of Nixon in domesticity among the violence her husband perpetuated.

The idea of a “living room war” is further illustrated by Edward Kienholz’s tableau, “The Eleventh Hour Final” (1968).

To see the most immersive piece in the entire exhibition, viewers step into a side room of the gallery, decorated like a typical American, middle-class, suburban living room—down to a TV guide and an ashtray full of cigarette butts on the coffee table.

Only once the viewer turns around do they see the subject within the faintly illuminated TV itself: a sculpted severed head lying on the bottom of the television set with the weekly death toll of American and Vietnamese lives painted on the glass screen in front of it. The piece resembles a fishbowl, highlighting both the scene’s violent transparency and the degree of separation between the viewer and subject.

The third gallery, “Shoot, Burn, Resist: The Body,” is the most unique, focusing strictly on performance art. In many of these pieces, artists use their bodies as mediums by actively inviting violence to be inflicted on them. “Reading Position for Second Degree Burn” (1970) shows one photo of Dennis Oppenheim lying on the sand at Jones Beach with a volume of military field tactics across his chest. A second photo, taken five hours later, shows the white rectangle left on his chest surrounded by a red sunburn. This photo set symbolizes the imprint of violence left by the Vietnam War and specifically protests the use of napalm—hence the imagery of painful burns.

An interesting yet understated depiction of violence on the body in performance art is Yoko Ono’s “Cut Piece” (1965).

Presented as a black and white video, the work shows Ono’s interactive, artistic experiment in which she sits on the stage of Carnegie Hall and invites audience members to come and use

to fight—and die—for this country. In “America the Beautiful” (1968), David Hammons, an African-American artist, uses his arms to spread black grease stains on a canvas, vaguely creating the features of a ghostly figure with a much clearer, brightly colored American flag draped over it. This contrast highlights the identity of the individual versus the burden placed on him or her by unjust national policies.

The fifth and final gallery is the largest, encompassing “A War of Information,” “Homecoming,” and “Prints for Peace.”

The vast range of themes and works that this gallery houses minimizes the significance of many of its pieces, especially those that are smaller in scale. The gallery shines, however, in its statement pieces that utilize the given space. Two of these are Hans Haacke’s “News” (1969, reconstructed 2019) and Jesse Treviño’s “Mi Vida” (1971-73). The former consists of a roll of paper being fed through a teletype machine that continuously types out the news of the day from different sources. Chaos ensues as the continuous roll of paper forms a six-foot-long pile on the floor with only certain bits discernable, rendering the information meaningless. The latter piece, a 20-foot tall acrylic painting, makes great use of the gallery’s larger space by depicting the artist’s current habits and former haunts as an infantryman in Vietnam.

While almost all of them present the war in a negative light, one cannot merely say that these are five galleries full of protest art. Instead, each piece brings the pain, frustration, and confusion of the artists’ unique perspectives directly to the viewer. Although its subject is 50 years old, the exhibit is still a powerful experience for modern audiences.

Skyler Coffey On Kawara’s “Title” (1965) hangs in the exhibit, Artists Respond: American Art and the Vietnam War, 1965-1975, at the Smithsonian American Art Museum. a pair of scissors to cut a piece of her suit. Even as Ono tries to look stoically ahead, her face betrays a sense of discomfort as her clothes are stripped away. Eventually, she is left holding up the cups of her bra in front of the audience; her entire suit has been cut away, and the straps of her bra have been snapped. The piece presents each audience member with the choice to participate and escalate the situation. Each individual choice contributes to Oko’s eventual discomfort and vulnerability, similar to the process behind the gradual—and then rapid—progress of U.S. involvement in Vietnam.

The fourth gallery, “Selective Service,” focuses on pieces of art protesting the draft. This room features the work of many African-American and Chicano artists, who represent communities disproportionately affected by mandatory conscription.

These pieces raise awareness of the violence specifically inflicted on these communities by the draft, as well as the role that money and race played in determining who got sent overseas

LEISURE

Artists Respond Presents Dynamic Commentary on the Vietnam War

Photo cÊåÙâ ÜĆ Ê§ Smithsonian American Art Museum Martha Rosler’s “Red Stripe Kitchen” (1967-72)

This spring, put all of your wings in one basket.

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