On Monday, April 16, Steve Robinson ’11 returned to campus to give a talk entitled “Conservatism and the Liberal Arts: How Bowdoin Made Me Conservative.” During his time at Bowdoin, Robinson was outspoken about his conservative beliefs and penned a regular column in the Orient (similar to this one) that was well known for its controversial content and audacious headlines (all of which are archived on the Orient’s website).
I wrote about the U.S.-Mexico border in this column a few weeks ago, discussing the potential environmental consequences of a border wall. In the time since my writing, the situation has developed. Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge, the focus of my article, has been spared from construction due to immense public outcry and organizing from local activists.
I do not remember the invasion of Iraq. I was three years old at the time, and although snippets of news broadcasts may have alerted me to the presence of conflict, I was understandably oblivious to the gravity of the situation.
I’ve already written an article about gun violence this year, yet I honestly don’t remember which mass shooting it was in response to. If my column is true to its name, the politics of mass shootings should pop up with saddening frequency, for every week it seems the topic is relevant.
As we enter the second month of 2018, it’s worth taking a moment to reflect on this year’s potential to shake up the American political landscape. Although the 2016 election may still be fresh in our minds, the upcoming midterm elections in November will be similarly momentous, defining the “second-half” of the Trump Presidency and either making or breaking some of his grandiose campaign promises.
Over Winter Break I spent a week in the Lower Rio Grande Valley in Texas, along the Mexican border. I was there on a birding trip because, ecologically, the area is an extension of Mexican habitat—much of its native wildlife can be found nowhere else in the U.S.
Sexual misconduct should not be weaponized as a mechanism to score points against political adversaries. To do so is insulting to the victims of an epidemic which we must address as a societal problem, not a partisan, political one.
What does it mean for this country if we recognize that our Constitution isn’t timeless? What are the consequences of accepting it as flawed? Whether we like it or not, these are questions we need to ask if we are to effectively advocate for gun control, an act of advocacy I believe to be necessary.
Scott Pruitt is one of the most dangerous men in the world. While we anxiously watch Trump and Kim Jong-Un bait each other with threats of catastrophe and bloodshed, Pruitt has been barreling ahead with his own war, of which the body count will extend far beyond the confines of the Korean peninsula.
Like many of us here on campus, I try to receive my news from reputable and unbiased sources as much as possible. These sources are ones that present the news as it is, without spin or agenda, for readers to assess as they’d like.
In today’s world, natural disasters are inherently political. They drastically disrupt and change the lives of countless Americans, and it is often the government’s job to provide support and aid in response. This responsibility falls squarely into my choice definition of politics: “Who gets what, where and why.” Because the need for government action is often so sudden, and so concentrated, there is relatively little room for partisan squabbling in the wake of a catastrophic event.