he College Board’s 6,000 member institutions — including Penn — are the only ones who can reasonably hold the College Board accountable. Universities should push the College Board to explain where all of those testing profits go.
The time to unite our party has arrived. If we don’t unite, we risk, as Senator Lindsey Graham put it, electing a “'race-baiting, xenophobic, religious bigot” by the name of Donald Trump.
While only 11 percent of Americans identify as ideological libertarians, they could make or break the race between Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton.
In a race for the White House that has been anything but presidential, you do not have to look far for reasons to be disgusted.
The time to unite our party has arrived. If we don’t unite, we risk, as Senator Lindsey Graham put it, electing a “'race-baiting, xenophobic, religious bigot” by the name of Donald Trump.
While only 11 percent of Americans identify as ideological libertarians, they could make or break the race between Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton.
I refuse to allow Western attitudes convince me that to be male and Asian is to be inherently and non-negotiably unattractive.
Bemoaning the fact that “you can’t trust the news” is immature, rooted in the expectation that everyone universally is trying to be accurate — not trying to sell you something. Interaction with media is a two way street, and there is no excuse for pinning all the blame completely on newspapers.
There’s a wall at the center of the 2016 presidential election, but Mexico has nothing to do with it.
The problem with the way that we discuss mental health at Penn is that we emphasize the “at Penn” part far too much. In doing so, we have tricked ourselves into thinking that mental health is specifically a Penn problem.
I always tell people that my semester abroad in Paris was the highlight of my time at Penn. That’s partly because I was able to live in another country, speak a foreign language and see the world.
The day I decided to run for Managing editor of the DP was the day my life changed forever.
I have this theory about life and regret. Senior year, and senior spring in particular, seems to be a perfect, natural time to think through these types of existential questions: it’s this inflection point, one where we break from the bubble of college into full on adulting.
Graduation is the biggest cliché. It’s paper plates in aisle one of Party City, it’s the “Keep Calm and Carry On” dorm room poster of momentous occasions, it’s the Murray Hill of post-grad addresses.
Senior column by Clara Jane Hendrickson | Thank you and farewell
When I arrived in Philadelphia, the airline lost my luggage. I remember the first time I made my way down Woodland Walk (before construction began on the new dorm).
“We are unable to offer you a position on the 131st Board. Sorry.” I stood in silence, phone to my ear, as the already fragile world of my junior fall completely crumbled. The Daily Pennsylvanian had been my defining activity at Penn.
Goodbye means leaving. It means packing everything up, arranging for a destination, shipping half your life and moving on.
To say I am bad with change and endings would be an understatement. I was that kid who cried on the last day of elementary school every year.
Last year, I was privileged enough to attend convocation for the incoming class of Penn freshmen as an honorary guest.
College acceptance has always been tied to pride, whether it be personal or school- oriented. The acceptance email for Penn is delivered in an unshakably triumphant Quaker fight song, heralding the shedding of new skin, ushering in a community that will soon be yours.









