Around two years ago, members of the Incarceration to Education Coalition at NYU staged a 155-hour long strike in order to protest NYU’s relationship with Aramark, a food-service provider. The protest occurred in response to a discriminatory meal, as well as poor inspection results. In late 2017, the New York City Department of Health found rat droppings in Lipton Dining Hall, one of NYU’s main dining halls. The dining hall earned an abysmal “C” rating from the Department of Health, causing concern among the student population.

The following year, during Black History Month, Aramark chose to serve a meal that centered itself on historically offensive stereotypes against African Americans. In light of these incidents, as well as many other alarming allegations surrounding Aramark, members of the Incarceration to Education Coalition began a petition asking NYU to end its relationship with the shady food service provider. However, when these efforts fell on deaf ears, the organization took to peaceful protests.

After a week of protesting, NYU agreed to meet some of the IEC’s demands, and more than a year later, NYU completely cut ties with Aramark. Now, students at NYU haven’t been the only ones in recent years to call into question their universities’ affiliations with Aramark. University students all over the world, including American University, Fordham University and Trinity College, have called upon their universities’ leaders to cut ties with Aramark.

Evidently, all of these protests and public outcries could not possibly have come solely from isolated events.  Aramark as a corporation has an extremely questionable past, to say the very least. During the protest at NYU, members of the IEC cited Aramark’s treatment of prisoners asanother compelling reason to break away from the food service provider.

Aramark is responsible for providing meals to more than 500 correctional facilities, making it one of the largest food service providers involved in the corrections industry. However, the corporate giant has numerous allegations of maggots and rocks being found in prisoners’ meals, drug trafficking and sexual harassment. There has even been documented evidence that some Michigan prisoners were served food taken out of a trash can.

According to Siddique Abdullah Hasan, an inmate at Ohio State Penitentiary, Aramark provided cold meals that were only half the serving size required. In some of the grievances aired by NYU’s IEC, the serving portions were said to be “inadequate for even a five-year-old child.”

As outrageous as it seems, the lack of healthy and humane meals is only a small part of Aramark’s unsavory history. In fact, in 2015, Michael Young, a Michigan-based Aramark supervisor, was found guilty of being involved in an assault-for-hire plot. More recently, in September 2019, an Aramark employee at Whatcom county jail in Washington was arrested for smuggling drugs into the facility. Only two months later, another Aramark employee was arrested for smuggling various contraband into the facility. Despite all of these instances of horrific neglect, Karen Cutler, an Aramark spokesperson, had the nerve to claim “[Aramark’s] dedication to quality and service have made [Aramark] a leader in [the] industry for more than 75 years.”

But really, the issue isn’t about any of these isolated events. It’s not about the maggots, it’s not about the rat droppings at NYU and it’s not even about the smuggling. The real issue with Aramark is their role in the privatization of prisons. All of these allegations are disgusting by-products of privatization. To reduce costs, many state prison systems choose to contract out to private companies. These companies have a vested interest in keeping prisons full and operating at full capacity. The purpose has shifted away from rehabilitation and correctional approaches and become a business model for how many people can be kept locked up and for how long.

For companies like Aramark, all they care about is the bottom line. Nothing keeps them from prioritizing how much money they can make, and that is exactly what they do. Not to mention, correctional facilities house the perfect consumer: a consumer with no choice. As David Fathi of the American Civil Liberties Union says, “If a prisoner doesn’t like the food, he can’t just go somewhere else and put the company out of business.”

Companies like Aramark see the prison system as an untouched gold mine, ready for exploitation. Through backhanded campaigning and questionable political deals, these companies keep prominent politicians in their back pocket, making it incredibly easy for them to take advantage of those in correctional facilities. While it’s easy to discuss the damage companies like Aramark cause on an abstract level, it becomes increasingly more pressing to deal with when we realize how closely intertwined we are as Drexel students.

Around four years ago, Drexel University began a partnership with Aramark as our food service provider. So many other universities have recognized that partnering with Aramark is essentially standing in solidarity with the inhumane ideals that govern these organizations. As students, it is our responsibility to call into question whether the university is reflecting what the student body believes. So many colleges and universities before us have already been successful in ending this partnership and I don’t see why we can’t follow in their footsteps. We must ask ourselves what we believe and what the consequences of our actions are. Cutting ties with Aramark is a long-needed change that we simply cannot turn a blind eye to.

In quarantine, with nothing to do, I have been going through television shows at a rate that is frankly a little bit embarrassing. So, after rewatching just about everything, you can imagine how excited I was when I heard that Mindy Kaling’s “Never Have I Ever” was set to premiere  April 27. Right in the midst of this global pandemic, it seemed that “The Office” alumna was here to save the day with a fresh new show about the life of Indian-American high schooler Devi Vishwakumar.

Moreover, as an Indian-American myself, the show promised to bring much-needed media representation into my life. I was so excited to see a girl who looked like me and had a life like mine on screen. We heard so much about 18-year-old lead actress, Maitreya Ramakrishnan, beating out 15,000 others with practically no headshots. The authenticity that she came with was so thrilling. Quite literally, the show was about the girl next door, but with immigrant parents.

However, after binge-watching all 10 episodes, I’m left with some uncertain feelings. Although the show was undoubtedly interesting and enjoyable to watch, at times I wondered whether it was doing enough to really delve into the topics it addressed. When they talked about things like arranged marriage, the death of a family member or really anything else, it felt so surface level. Not to mention some of the very over-the-top and somewhat out-of-touch writing.

I guess I expected the show to be a serious, nuanced television show looking at the Indian diaspora in the United States, but what I got was a casually intelligent teen comedy. The first season of “Never Have I Ever” may not totally address every issue with grace, but it does manage to set up a wide array of diverse characters with real-life human personalities. It is by no means a perfect show. And it certainly does not encapsulate everything about being Indian-American in today’s America. But it is a step toward normalizing representation of people of color in mainstream media. I don’t mean to say that I cringed throughout every moment, but at the end of the day we should see this is as what it is: just a drop in what will, hopefully, become an ocean.

For the longest time, South Asian representation in mainstream media consisted of grossly exaggerated stereotypes, like Apu from “The Simpsons.” But today we have people like Hasan Minhaj, Aziz Ansari and now Maitreya Ramakrishnan. Things are moving in a positive direction.

When we criticize shows like “Never Have I Ever” we have to keep in mind that it is just one perspective within the enormous umbrella of “Indian-American.” The Indian-American experience is one that is universal, but also so amazingly diverse. For a group that is so often reduced to IT and curry jokes, there is quite a wide range of perspectives, opinions, and experiences.

If we should learn anything from “Never Have I Ever,” it’s that we need more POC representation, and there is an urgent need for POC actors, producers, writers and everything in between in Hollywood. Only with the presence of these people will there be true representation in the media we consume. I don’t want to have an “Indian-American show.” I want there to be so many representative shows with honest storylines that we no longer have to place the pressure of being the Indian-American show on one singular series. It’s time that the voices and stories seen on our television and our streaming sites accurately reflect the wide array of voices that come from people of color.

Of course, another thing I’ve found to be a common occurrence with teen shows featuring a person of color is that we hold it to an unimaginable standard. As an Indian-American, I have found myself guilty of doing just that. Hearing that a new show starring a person of color and expecting it to be absolutely perfect, break stereotypes, resonate with its target audience and also be incredibly intelligent. But we don’t do this with white-led television shows or movies. We can see movies like “Mean Girls” and shows like “Gossip Girl” that exist for no particular reason outside of enjoyment. We don’t expect them to be anything more than entertainment. This, in itself, is a privilege that we aren’t afforded.

When we see media content by creators of color, we expect it to be more than just entertaining; we want it to be ground-breaking and absolutely original and perfect. And if you ask me, it’s because we see it as our “one shot,” the one opportunity for representation, and it has to be perfect or we’ll lose our chance. The future of entertainment has room for lighthearted people of color representation. People of color don’t exist in the confines of seriousness, and our media should reflect that.

Now, having said all of this, I still don’t know where I stand on “Never Have I Ever,” but I do think one thing is clear after watching it: People of color representation has been disgustingly lacking in mainstream media, and to finally have some of it feels like a breath of fresh air.

With the number of cases having exceeded 100,000 since March 6, coronavirus is becoming an increasingly concerning public health crisis. As hand sanitizers fly off shelves and health tips are thrown around, another disease is also spreading: ethnophobia. Amidst the coronavirus outbreak, the incidences of anti-Asian racism have increased at an alarming rate.

This ethnophobia and xenophobia rears its head in many different ways. Whether it comes in the form of verbal harassment, physical assault or the economic declines for Chinese-run businesses, it is abundantly clear that the coronavirus has not only brought with it a new-age pandemic, but also a resurgence of xenophobia.

The intertwined nature of xenophobia and pandemics is nothing new. We have seen it time and time again. When a new disease comes about, miscellaneous facts regarding its origins or “target demographic” are used to justify discrimination towards a group, which is typically a group seen as the “other.”

Just 17 years ago, the SARS outbreak also led to an increase in anti-Asian sentiment. Predominantly Chinese neighborhoods and businesses were suddenly empty. The general public couldn’t sit near Asians without feeling “dirty.” And of course, people who even appeared Asian were unfairly looked at as “dirty” or “contagious.” For example, the University of California, Berkeley came under fire for banning all students from certain East Asian nations from its summer programs. Only after receiving criticism and backlash for this policy did they amend it. They would permit some students to come, but they would reserve special rooms for students who fell sick, and the Asian students would be closely monitored. When we think of the saying “history repeats itself,” there are few times we can think of such a clear parallel.

In no way did this kind of visceral reaction help address the SARS outbreak, and similarly, this reaction won’t help us address the coronavirus outbreak. Thinking that people of a certain ethnicity are more likely to catch coronavirus isn’t just an unfair bias, but it is also, in this case, scientifically unsound. People may discriminate based on ethnicity and race, but the coronavirus does not.

It’s not just individual people who are capable of using coronavirus as an excuse for racism. The New York Post recently came under fire for using an image of Flushing, Queens rather than one of Manhattan, where the case actually occurred, in an article discussing a recent case of coronavirus. Flushing is a town comprised of around 70 percent Asian-Americans, and so it seems abundantly clear that there was bias behind the use of this image.

Moreover, the way we act in times like these will determine where we go from here. The outbreak of coronavirus doesn’t give us an excuse to discriminate, and it certainly doesn’t give us an excuse to act on our base instincts. According to one study by the National Institute of Health, this kind of disease racialization yields no positive impact in terms of preventing disease. More often than not, the disease transfer occurs between healthcare professionals and patients.

Hoarding medication, food and health supplies won’t protect us, and neither will turning on each other. The best thing that can be done is maintaining healthy habits, like washing your hands and keeping your hands away from your face.

While the resurgence of anti-Asian sentiments all over the country is common knowledge, it came as a startling shock when one of Drexel’s own became the victim of such an attack. On Friday, Drexel’s student body received an email regarding a racist incident that took place the day before. According to John Fry’s email, a Chinese Drexel student was verbally harassed on the Market-Frankford El. The Drexel community, as well as the global community, must recognize that attacks like these come from a place of ignorance, and we must operate on the fundamental understanding that we are all in this together.

The global community needs to hear from leaders who place science, fact and the well-being of the public at the center of their rhetoric. It is the responsibility of well-educated and capable leaders to spread messages rooted in science and emphasize the foolishness of disease racialization.

It comes as no surprise that there is a correlation between income levels and health outcomes, with the wealthiest Americans living a lifespan that is 15 years longer than the average. And this disparity continues to grow, as the life expectancy of the top 5 percent of Americans has increased by 2.5 years, while the lifespan of those in the bottom 5 percent has remained stagnant. Of course, the differences are not limited only to lifespan, but also to levels of chronic conditions. As income levels decrease, the rates of diabetes, heart disease and stroke all steadily increase. I could go on and on about the numerous ways that income affects health, but the point remains: People of differing income levels and socioeconomic status receive differing levels of care.

In a city like Philadelphia, the problems related to economic inequality and healthcare are particularly dire. According to one Bloomberg study, Philadelphia had the third-worst income gap in the country. As 8.2 percent of our city’s population earns more than $150,000 a year, 19.5 percent of Philadelphians earn incomes at the lower end of the economic spectrum. This 19.5 percent is the portion of Philadelphia’s population that is constantly overlooked by those making important decisions for the city.

When discussing healthcare institutes that are integral to underserved communities, it is practically impossible to forget Hahnemann Hospital or St. Christopher’s Hospital. These hospitals employ professionals who each make it their life’s work to deliver quality healthcare to the communities that need it most. However, it’s not breaking news that Hahnemann Hospital is closing. Hahnemann’s role in treating underserved populations, including people of color, public payers and the uninsured, cannot be understated. These very same communities are also the most vulnerable to public health crises facing Philadelphia. Not to mention that Philly is a high-poverty city, with 9 percent of residents uninsured and 22 percent on Medicaid. The shut-down of one of the largest hospitals in the city — and, more importantly, one that mainly caters to those who are in the most desperate need of healthcare — is terrifying.

With such a lack of healthcare services for those in low-income neighborhoods, the closure of Hahnemann Hospital is not one to be taken lightly. In some areas, there are 3,000 adults for every primary care provider. There is an utter lack of thought for these employees and those that they serve. In the long run, this will benefit nobody.

Of course, Hahnemann isn’t alone in providing healthcare to underserved communities. St. Christopher’s (also owned by the Hahnemann’s parent company, Philadelphia Academic Health System) plays a major role, as it is one of the few hospitals that accepts all plans of Medicaid. Nearly 90 percent of St. Christopher’s patients are on Medicaid. The demographic that St. Christopher’s caters to is not one that is in a position to lose any more healthcare facilities. The medical director of pediatrics and adolescent services at the Philadelphia Department of Public Health, Victor Igbokidi, says that any patient that comes into their office uninsured and in need of specialty care is sent to St. Christopher’s. That means that without St. Christopher’s, the children of Philadelphia will be abandoned by the medical institutions that have been around for so long.

When we think of issues surrounding the closure of safety net hospitals, we typically think of it as a relation between the healthcare facility and those it serves. But there is one group that is consistently overlooked: the workers in these facilities. We forget that the institutions, like St. Christopher’s and Hahnemann, are made up of employees who have chosen to work in areas that have a severe lack of acceptable health services. These are the very same employees who have strived to bring quality healthcare to areas in underserved Philadelphia for years now. But when facilities that are designed to provide just this are continuously shut down, it effectively discourages employment at these facilities. As those in the healthcare field receive the message that it does not pay to work in safety net hospitals, the healthcare deserts will continue to worsen.

A facility that served vulnerable communities and employed thousands of workers was shut down without a second thought. Joel Freedman, the owner, intends to sell the real estate to the highest bidder. Seeing as the building sits in what is considered a “gateway location,” the land will provide its developers with the perfect opportunity to begin gentrification of the neighborhood. In exchange for a safety net hospital, thousands of skilled, compassionate employees and vital healthcare services, Philadelphia may have gained a few more residential buildings.

Time and time again, there is a pattern of neglect for communities that lack proper healthcare services. Time and time again, these communities are forgotten. And time and time again, the employees of institutions that provide these services are thrown under the bus.

Drexel, too, has a hand in this ever-growing trend. With the recent purchase of St. Christopher’s, Tower Health and Drexel are the new owners of this integral health facility. However, they are choosing to not recognize the existing contract with the nurses of St. Christopher’s.

The major issue is that many of the nurses had accumulated paid time off averaging around 300 hours or $15,000. These nurses deserve to have this time off, as it is something that they have worked toward, not to mention their desire to maintain staffing grids in order to outline the ratio of nurses to patients needed in an effort to adequately provide care. Without this, it can lead nurses to fatigue, burnout and an overall decrease inpatient care.

If we continue to treat our low-income health workers as disposable, Philadelphia will end up in a healthcare desert far worse than we can even imagine.

In July of 2012, amid the dry heat of southern Afghanistan, first Lt. Clint Lorance ordered his soldiers to fire on three unarmed Afghan motorcyclists, killing two and wounding one. As a result of his actions, Lorance was found guilty of second-degree murder and obstruction of justice. For the past six years, Lorance has been in a military prison in Fort Leavenworth, Kansas.

That is, until now.

Back in Nov. 2019, Lorance appeared on “Fox & Friends” after President Trump pardoned him. When asked what Lorance would like to say to the President, he turned to the camera and said, “I love you, sir.”

The idea of a convicted war criminal directly thanking the leader of the United States for freeing him should strike fear into every single American. Although the modern rules of war came from the Geneva Convention of 1864, we can trace the concept of “battlefield behavior” all the way back to ancient civilizations. From the very beginning of time, even when we were at war, human beings have abided by certain laws and norms with respect to the fundamental dignity that comes with any life.

But with Trump’s pardon record, it seems that he is intent on challenging this age-old tradition, and with it, the idea that all human life holds value.

Lorance isn’t even the worst of Trump’s pardon list.

The case of Chief Edward Gallagher is particularly gruesome. Gallagher stabbed a teenage ISIS militant multiple times while the teen was in surgery and then proceeded to threaten his subordinates against reporting him. Of course, this isn’t all. Gallagher also shot down an elderly man and a school-age girl with a sniper rifle. Not to mention, his hobby of showering neighborhoods with machine-gun fire without any clear targets.

The Navy’s top admiral demoted Gallagher because of his actions, but President Trump promptly restored Gallagher to his original position, essentially sending the message that actions don’t have consequences.

Finally, and perhaps most frightening of all, was the pardon issued to Army Maj. Matthew Golsteyn for killing an unarmed Afghan man. Before the case against Golsteyn was even heard, Trump pardoned him. The system didn’t even have the chance to work before Trump intervened.

With everything happening on our national political stage, it’s hard to recognize what these pardons are, but it is important we don’t miss it. They are an absolute rejection of the military judicial process and disregard for the war laws designed to dignify human life.

And this sets a terrifying precedent for the future of warfare, incites the United States’ budding reputation as a reckless bully and of course, and reduces the military to a mere political tool.

If the President of the United States is pardoning war criminals, it sends the message that the American military has no regard for international cooperation. Where does that leave us on the global stage and what does it reflect about American society today?

If we look to the president’s Twitter account,he says: “We train our boys to be killing machines, then prosecute them when they kill.” This sentiment isn’t only grossly untrue, but it also reveals that the president has no idea what he’s talking about.

For a man who is supposed to be the Commander in Chief, he knows surprisingly little about how military personnel are expected to act. As per the Law of Armed Conflict, there are certain tenets that are meant to be observed at all times. Things like don’t torture prisoners, engage with only enemy combatants and treat civilians humanely don’t seem like very controversial ideas, and yet here we are.

Personally, I have a hard time believing that our president pardoned these men in the naive spirit of proud Americanism. No, these were calculated decisions. Let’s give the president some credit; he is not as stupid as we want to think he is. Donald Trump is a man who thrives in chaos.

By pardoning these men, the president makes it clear that in Trump’s America, human life is secondary to “winning.” The lives of non-Americans are meaningless, particularly when they get in the way of this goal. By establishing this message, Trump creates a fundamental divide between those he deems to fit his definition of American and everyone else.

And of course, the timing of these three pardons could not have been worse. Perhaps it was a coincidence that Trump pardoned three war criminals on the same day that his ally Roger Stone was convicted or the second day of the impeachment inquiry, but it would be a fairly large coincidence.

These pardons aren’t just another “crazy” thing Trump has done. It is the systematic next step in establishing the difference between “real” Americans and the “others.” Excusing these three men says that it is okay to succumb to our most base instincts — acting brutally.

But make no mistake, acting on our most primeval motivations will only lead to the fundamental breakdown of American society as we know it. Fundamentally, we must recognize that if we as a people accept senseless murder on the basis of the enemy being “other” we are moving closer and closer to the downfall of our own society.

College is a stressful time, to say the least. There are exams, essays, presentations, club meetings, social activities and, of course, the existential process of figuring out who you are. With all this, not to mention the stresses of financing it all, it makes sense that college students tend to be one of the most vulnerable groups to anxiety and depression.

According to the JED Foundation, around 36 percent of men and 45 percent of women in college had reported feeling depressed to the point of inability to function within the academic year. Almost half of all students feel this way, and in some ways I find that comforting. In no way do I mean that the increase in mental health issues is a good thing. It is objectively not, but what I do think is that we can take comfort in knowing is that we’re not alone. Even in our own feelings of anxiety and loneliness, we aren’t alone. So why does it feel like we are?

I don’t even mean anything clinically diagnosable; I just mean that burden of feeling alone. Especially in college, where with finding new friends in a new city, all while juggling school, clubs, a job overwhelms you. Why can’t we just talk about it? I’m a freshman, and I’m not homesick. It’s more than that. It’s this pervasive feeling of not knowing.

Last term, I went to dinner with a couple of friends, one of whom mentioned “liminal spaces.” Liminal spaces are these places of in-betweenness. Like elevators, airport lobbies or empty parking lots. But they can also be non-physical spaces, periods of time or feelings of transition. That’s what it feels like right now.

Moving from high school to college is difficult, and successfully shifting  isn’t as simple as developing time management skills. It’s about navigating the transition into carrying the burden of who you want to become all on your own. It’s hard, it’s messy, and it’s so confusing. And the thing is, it isn’t something that’s a once in a lifetime feeling. Life is full of liminal spaces, and they can be hard and uncomfortable to navigate.

Sometimes I question whether or not I’m being true to myself, but other times I wonder if I’m trying enough new things. And striking that balance between exploring outside your comfort zone and being who you are isn’t as straightforward as one might think. Worst of all, sometimes it feels like you’re the only one dealing with all of this. But take it from someone who feels the same way, you’re not.

The thing about liminal spaces is that it’s not just a time of confusion, and feeling lost, it’s also about growth and change. There’s so much potential in liminality, but the unease that surrounds it can make it hard to recognize. So, even when things feel confusing and just a little off, you just have to have patience and know that it’s okay to not know what’s next. And maybe even more importantly, know that you aren’t the only one feeling that way.

In 2017, there were more than 45,000 overdose deaths involving opioids in the United States, more than double that of 2000. The opioid epidemic has become one of the worst public health crises the United States has seen since the HIV/AIDS epidemic. With more than 130 people dying every day as a result of opioid misuse and addiction, this isn’t an issue that we can brush under the carpet.

Perhaps one of the worst hit neighborhoods lies not even half an hour from Drexel’s campus. Synonymous with cheap and accessible heroin, Kensington has become what the New York Times calls the “Walmart of Heroin” and locals have nicknamed “The Badlands.” Complete with “guides” and “drug tourists,” Kensington has become quite the tourist destination for people looking for drugs like PCP, cocaine and literally anything else you could think of. Coupled with poverty, crime and violence, Kensington is a neighborhood in dire straits.

But when mayor Jim Kenney took office in 2016, things seemed to be looking up slightly for Kensington. With Kenney’s mayoral debut came a progressive and comprehensive plan to better the state of Kensington’s residents. Focusing his plan on treatment rather than incarceration, Kenney approached the problem with pragmatism and compassion. Since 2016, the mayor has poured money, time and various resources into clearing heroin encampments, improving public safety, opening homeless shelters and dispensing Narcan.

Despite all this, it doesn’t seem like anything has improved. Kensington is still a part of “The Badlands,” and people are still dying.

Since then, the Philadelphia Inquirer reported that homelessness has rocketed up to 703 residents, more than double that of the year before. Not to mention that overdose deaths rose by around 50 percent from 2016 to 2017. It is abundantly clear: something isn’t working. New and innovative relief efforts have to be introduced if there is any true intention of restoring Kensington.

This is exactly what Philadelphia’s local government has endorsed. Mayor Kenney has put his support behind Safehouse, a nonprofit group created to build a safe injection site at the site of the worst opioid epidemics in the country. This proposed safe injection would be the first of its kind in the United States. Philadelphia could set the model for dealing with communities disproportionately affected by opioid addiction. Equipped with medically trained professionals, Narcan and rehabilitation options, Safehouse would be a multi-faceted and “harm reduction” focused approach to dealing with the issues in Kensington.

Former Pennsylvania governor and Philadelphia mayor Ed Rendell has also voiced his opinion in favor of the first ever safe injection site in the United States. Rendell, who famously supported needle-exchange programs during the height of the AIDS epidemic despite its controversy, now backs a safe injection site at a time where the opioid epidemic is taking lives at an alarming rate. Rendell is a politician who knows what he’s doing, particularly when it comes to tackling public health crises of this scale. For that reason, his backing speaks volumes of what a safe injection site can do for Kensington and all the other neighborhoods struck by addiction.

Not only does Safehouse have the backing of reputable and experienced people, but it’s already been tested. The United States is coming to this idea after many other well-developed countries have already begun putting it into action. At the same time that the United States was dealing with the crack cocaine health crisis, the Netherlands was dealing with a major heroin abuse epidemic. However, rather than waging a war against drugs through the means of incarceration, the Netherlands used positive public health approaches, like social services, housing facilities and, of course, supervised injection sites. The Netherlands, with nearly 40 safe injection sites, is a pioneer in dealing with opioid abuse as a chronic condition, rather than something that must be cured. In 2016, there were 235 opioid overdose deaths in the Netherlands. Now compare that to the United States’ whopping 45,000 deaths. The statistics speak for themselves; safe injection sites are effective.

However, despite the support of local government, Safehouse has been confronted with legal battles from federal prosecutors. U.S. Attorney William McSwain and the federal government sued Safehouse, claiming that it would violate various “crack house laws.” While Safehouse won the case, it has been appealed and they must wait until the appeal’s process is over to begin construction.

In a letter to Safehouse leaders, McSwain wrote, “If you and your clients choosee to move forward, I will have no choice but to take the steps necessary to maintain the status quo.”

The status quo. Is the status quo more important than the lives of Kensington residents? If the status quo means that more than 130 people die every single day, is it worth keeping?

Make no mistake, William McSwain and his team do not care about the individual loss of life in Kensington or anywhere else, for that matter. All they care about is setting precedent. This is a stepping stone in preventing any other safe injection sites from opening anywhere else in the country. If McSwain wins here in Philadelphia, the implications will take effect all over the country, putting the lives of hundreds of thousands of Americans in danger. But all that matters to McSwain is winning this case, for it will have effectively made his career and guarantee him nice titled jobs for the rest of his life, while those grappling with the effects of opioid addiction are left with no resources.

The longer this legal red tape surrounds Safehouse, the more people are going to die. Philadelphia and every single life affected by addiction can’t wait for McSwain to finish up his exercise in self-aggrandizement. Every moment that McSwain and his team continue to fight is another life lost, another person who loses the battle against addiction. At the end of the day, there’s only one question we have to ask ourselves: Do we care enough about the lives being lost to do something about it?