Two weeks ago The Daily Pennsylvanian highlighted a claim in a recent Senate Committee report that there is a gender wage gap at Penn.

You may not have heard about this, but OZ sent a sleazy email which got leaked. Just kidding. Unless you live under a rock, you know about what I’m now calling #OzGate. Personally, I have mixed feelings about how campus has reacted to the exposure of the crude poem. Let me be clear, I have little interest in defending the email itself. The sentiments expressed in the lines of truly terrible poetry indicate some attitudes I find deeply troubling.

Over the summer, Penn introduced a major tweak to its Early Decision application process that prevents students from applying Early Decision to Penn and Early Action to another private university.

I’ve never doubted who I was. Asian, White, Mixed, Girl, Young—any of these could apply, but none of these mattered.

I call myself a writer, but I haven’t published anything in the three years I’ve been at this university.

I was arguably a better writer after four years of high school than I am now, after four years of some of the most expensive postsecondary education that money can buy.

GROUP THINK is the DP’s round table section, where we throw a question at the columnists and see what answers stick.

During last semester's Reading Days, my sister came to see me, and we decided to take a weekend trip to New York.

It’s official — the College Houses have out-TV’d my dad. As reported in a DP news article by Ray Pomponio, starting this year College House residents will get Comcast’s Xfinity On Demand streaming service included in the ever-increasing price of rent. Even my tech-happy father, who has enthusiastically upgraded our “home theater” infrastructure every few years since my birth, hasn’t quite sprung for that yet. While I am sure that College House residents will appreciate the service, I have to confess that it seems to me an extravagance.

Before coming back to Penn, I got my first professional massage. I had been saying “I need a massage” for years before actually getting one.

As the class of 2020 begins to settle into their new lives at Penn, if its members are anything like me, I’m sure that they’re feeling a complex mix of emotions at entering the first step into adulthood.

She was a cosmopolitan-looking, middle-aged doctor with the kind of precisely preserved physiognomy that I imagine develops 15 years out from an Ivy League sorority.

I first saw the letter which University of Chicago Dean of Students John Ellison sent to his incoming freshman class on Twitter, a day or so before it hit the mainstream press. Scanning the first grainy photocopy, I could sense a kerfuffle in the making.

In May, Harvard announced a historic move to enact penalties on its Final Clubs and Greek life organizations.

It’s a scene right out of a classic college film or a rose-tinted admissions propaganda leaflet — a group of college students lazing around a dorm room or lounge, late at night, arguing about politics, philosophy and the meaning of life. It probably figured, to some extent, in your high school visions of what Ivy League life would be like. I know it did in mine.

At the end of this past school year, my mom and I were talking about the ups and downs of my college experience when she asked, “Are you proud of the person you’ve become?” Although taken by surprise, my first instinct was to say yes. After all, I had finished two years of college, lived across the country from my family, survived several East Coast winters, taken stimulating courses with incredible professors and learned from and was challenged by the students around me.

I assumed Trump would understand the national electorate. I assumed he would adjust his strategy and pivot to the general election. I might have been wrong.