Elect Her training urges Penn women to lead
When women succeed, America succeeds.
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When women succeed, America succeeds.
Students hurrying down Locust Walk over the past few weeks might have stopped for free hot chocolate handed out by students representing a maybe-unfamiliar organization.
In the few hours 1990 College graduate Michael Rauch spent at Kelly Writers House last night, he offered a reassuring picture of a career path sometimes marked by insecurity.
When I was in elementary school, the Crayola box of 96 crayons introduced me to the ugly truth of racism.
On a train ride from Philadelphia to Princeton Junction last week, I overheard an elderly couple arguing over the geographical position of Malta, unable to decide whether it was in the Caribbean Sea or the Indian Ocean. From my seat across the aisle, I waited for the dispute to end, and when it didn’t, I used Google Maps to convince the couple that Malta floated in the Mediterranean Sea, not far off the coast of Sicily.
Many residents of low-income areas across the United States struggle with their weight. Despite numerous healthy eating and healthy lifestyle initiatives like Shape Up Vicksburg, poverty and obesity seem inextricably linked. Figures from the Mayo Clinic show that counties nationwide with poverty rates above 35 percent also suffer from obesity rates that are 145 percent greater than those of their wealthier counterparts.
Credit card debt is as American as apple pie. A good credit line, which translates to the savvy use of credit cards, is necessary to take out a loan or set up a mortgage. Websites like freecreditscore.com service consumers who are buckling under their debt to plastic.
On every SEPTA ride home, I seem to converse with an interesting person: a student hiding from her parents, a stay-at-home dad with a diagnosed fear of peanut butter sticking to the roof of his mouth and even a freelance clown heading for Levittown for a birthday party. My conversations have helped to pass time and have also taught me trapeze artist lingo and refreshed my knowledge on the symptoms of arachibutyrophobia.
When I was in the second grade, I would invariably throw out part of my lunch every day so I could finish with my classmates and avoid being called a slowpoke. The reason behind my empty lunchbox remained my guilty secret for a long time — until my own Jiminy Cricket finally forced me to crack and tearfully apologize to my mother.
When I think of collapsing buildings, I think of a story from an Indian comic book in which a jealous minister builds a flimsy cardboard palace as part of a cruel ploy to overthrow his king.
I use Fridays to measure time. One Friday to the end of a rough week. Two Fridays until my friend’s birthday. Three Fridays until my next exam.
Have you ever felt an apology wasn’t enough?
I was standing in line at Houston for lunch with my first-grade PennPal, Akina, as we counted the number of people in the pasta line to practice numbers.
Watching firewood burn is all the rage in Oslo.
My efforts to learn the names of all my classmates and fellow students have turned me into a bobblehead doll whose head does an almost-360 degree loop.
The 700-odd students who take “Introduction to Experimental Psychology” every semester approach Experimetrix with divisive views: they either love or hate it.
Sometimes, I wonder how I have 193 friends on Facebook.
I will never forget my first experience on the SEPTA train system.
Today is the one-month anniversary of the elementary school shooting in Newtown, Conn.
When I learned that Newsweek was set to go out of print by Dec. 31, I was crushed. I’m not an avid Newsweek reader, but I see the magazine’s decision to dedicate itself to the online sphere as a symptom of a larger problem.