The never-ending story

The New-Age Bard

But has it become too cliche to think of what unites us? Here we are, somewhere on the lifeline between birth and death. Where we are all subject to the whims of the same sky and plant our feet on the same earth. Where we fall in love and give birth and grow old and allow the cycle to begin again. Every story merely explores some question of what it means to be alive.
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Become the change we want to see

The reactions of the campus and Berkeley communities to the grand jury decisions not to indict police officers in the killings of Michael Brown and Eric Garner show that these decisions deeply affect the moral sensibility, sense of justice and political activism of many of us and deservedly so.
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Chancellor Dirks aims to provide support to campus priorities

“People Not Profits!” some of their signs said, which was a little ironic, given that doing the right thing for as many people as possible has been the primary driver for our every action in and around the university property known as the Gill Tract. In fact, our plans for the area are the result of an open and inclusive planning process, representing a rare win-win-win for low-income students, the community of Albany and, as it happens, those committed to urban farming.
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Open letter to UC community about John Yoo

The University of California is too ambivalent in its support for human rights (look at divestment issues). Having hired Yoo at the UC Berkeley School of Law, and indeed honoring him there, has caused other donors I know to take similar action as mine. For students overburdened by school debt, it is regretful that the university causes funds to go elsewhere, but as long as I am above ground and Yoo is here, my financial support does indeed go elsewhere.
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It’s been a privilege

Millenial Meltdown

Privilege, in my house, was getting dessert after dinner or borrowing the Lexus. But privilege is now a buzzword, and it appears to be everywhere.
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So, I slept with my professor

Sex on Tuesday

I never expected that a one-night stand with my professor would turn into something so spectacular. “Our bodies were made for each other,” he’d tell me.
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