I went to a fairly small high school, where I knew every student and staff’s face, full name and  even how many siblings they had. In fact, by the time I graduated, I had been in school with most of them for ten years. They all knew me too, of course, and every excursion into the school hallway was spent waving to everyone I saw. Those waves were the most wonderful part of my day. 

Now, my high school had a graduating class of 90, but my undergraduate cohort — students that entered Tech in Fall 2018 — had 4,521 of us, fifty times my high school class. But, I didn’t realize the gravity of this number until my first week of classes. Coming from out-of-state, I did not know anyone at Tech, and even after getting to know my FASET group and memorizing the names of the 20 girls who lived with me on the first floor of Field, I never ran into anyone I knew while on campus. 

Instead, I ate my meals alone in Under the Couch while watching Youtube, lost myself on campus after taking the Red bus instead of the Blue one and stayed largely silent from the moment I left my dorm until I returned. I went to class after class with not a single familiar face to wave to, and I realized my favorite part of my day was gone. 

That is, until I figured I would offer my experience founding a student newspaper in high school to the Student Publications office at Tech. Walking into the office, I was in awe of the wooden trophy cases, the archives stretching back decades, and the boisterous laughter coming deep from within the Technique office. When the Editorial Board told me my options were to write, photograph or copy edit, I knew the answer was copy edit. After all, the copy editors are the only non-staff members who hang out in the office all the time, and that is exactly where I wanted to be. 

I pretty quickly learned why we are called the South’s Liveliest College Newspaper, and I am so grateful for those people who took me under their wing during my first year. I will never forget you all helping me cram for Chem I tests, inviting me to parties and thinking I was a wizard because I knew how to operate Instagram. 

These were some of the best moments of my college career, and I cherish those memories. Not only did I receive strong support from the Technique staff, but they opened my eyes to what makes Tech special. 

While my small high school class meant that I knew everyone, it also meant that there was not a huge variety of people. It was so hard for me to convince anyone to care about the newspaper, but here I was at the Technique, surrounded by people who care about student publications more than I do.

That is what Tech has been for me — each year I meet more people who come from the most diverse backgrounds, and I meet other people who are more similar to me than I can imagine. 

I went from having five Indians in my whole high school to being on the Board of India Club Georgia Tech, the largest cultural organization on campus, with upwards of 1000 members. Each year, I get the honor of meeting a fresh Technique staff, with many new faces and some old ones too, inspirational peers in my BME problem-solving sessions, and wonderful faculty mentors through my research lab. 

As my time at the newspaper has continued, I have grown my Technique family piece by piece. A power-lifting Managing Editor with a brightly dyed mohawk, a cat lady Editor-in-Chief with the best shoulder to cry on, an Entertainment Editor who only wore jeans and boots or shorts and sandals, a Sports Editor with flowing hair only rivaled by his handlebar mustache and so many many more. You all have been my family away from home, more than you will ever know. 

Serving as Head Copy Editor over the last four years, I have realized I was right to think I would be hanging out in the office all the time. Not only do copy editors meticulously pore over the paper making corrections, we also are a constant presence in the publication office even when no one else is there. Maybe this was always true, or maybe I made it true. 

Regardless, I try to bring lighthearted silliness and deep conversation to every meeting and deadline. I feel lucky to have known the countless students rotating through the Editorial Board positions through the years. And, I am proud to be leaving my Technique family behind, closer knit than when I joined it. 

Tech, after all, is just the people you meet and the people you choose. I never learned the skill of choosing your people before college, and I am so glad to have learned it now. 

I am also so grateful that my people chose me too. I am graduating while surrounded by the most genuine, humble, thoughtful and intelligent students I have ever met, and they are both a result of and the reason why I have grown so much as a person during my time here.  

I would like to end with a quote from my most-listened-to song from 2020 according to Spotify. In “10/10” Rex Orange County says, “Cause, after all, I guess it all depends upon/The people you choose and where you’re from/If so, I’ve been so lucky, so far, it’s outrageous/I won’t complain.” 

And, as I leave the Technique, while I can find a lot of little things to complain about, I know I have been outrageously lucky so far. Now, when I leave my dorm to go about my day, I can be certain I will wave to someone. When I go back to my dorm, too, I will no longer eat my meals in silence. 

College can be very lonely and big, so thank you to every staff member of the Technique and every friend over the last four years who made my Tech experience just that much smaller and less lonely.

Anti-Valentine’s Day

Are you sad that you don’t have a Valentine to call your own this year? Maybe it is a good thing.

Valentine’s Day has mysterious origins, which can be traced back to the fifth century when the Catholic church deemed Feb. 14 be a day to celebrate the martyr Saint Valentine. In the modern era, however, Valentine’s Day has come to represent a chance to celebrate romantic love and one’s significant other.

Yet this sweet message is rarely more than another chance for corporations to take advantage of well-meaning Americans. According to the US Census Bureau, Americans spent more than $30 billion for Valentine’s Day in 2017. The marketing for Valentine’s Day goods is incessant from the start of the new year, serving as a constant reminder of one’s upcoming obligations. As a result, spending money, whether it is on presents or five-star dinners, seems to be the primary mechanism to celebrate the holiday.

When looking at the aisles of plastic roses, heart-shaped boxes, chocolates and pink teddy bears, the standard Valentine’s gifts tend to lose their meaning. Yet, the expectations for Valentine’s Day continue to climb. The pressure of the holiday puts undue stress on relationships; according to a study performed by David McCandless, Facebook breakups spike dramatically following the holiday.

This is only exacerbated by the pressure of showing off relationships on social media, and the inevitable comparison that takes place. The pressure is felt the deepest by many who are completely excluded from the holiday. According to multiple surveys, almost half of American adults are single, and celebrations which pretty much require one to be in a relationship are, by definition, exclusionary. While celebrating friendship with “Galentine’s” and “Palentine’s” Day are making strides in the right direction, they are far from substituting the main way people celebrate the holiday.

Ultimately, Valentine’s Day is a holiday with wonderful intentions. However, the sentiment behind it has been soured by corporate propaganda, immense pressure on relationships and the exclusionary nature of the day. Rather than spending mass amounts of money, celebrate Valentine’s Day with intention — make handmade gifts and meals and take time to express gratitude to your loved ones — not just your romantic interests, but everyone.

This way, Valentine’s will seem like less of a chore and more of a celebration. Just make sure that your significant other is onboard to celebrate Valentine’s the same way!

Pro-Valentine’s Day

Chocolate, flowers and warm hugs … what’s not to like? While the history of Valentine’s Day doesn’t necessarily lead back to pink and red cupcakes and bouquets of roses, Valentine’s Day gives us all a few extra reasons to spread love and smiles — even if it’s only for the day.

I totally get it, though, not everyone is a chocolate person, appreciates the beauty of flowers or has a special someone to spend the day with. But that’s the thing. Valentine’s Day is what you make of it, so it’s for anyone and everyone to celebrate! The idea of Valentine’s Day has completely evolved, as it’s become a day to celebrate love as a whole, not just with one other person. We all have different ways of showing and perceiving love, so use this day to figure out your love languages and reclaim your worth.

Leading up to the occasion, Valentine’s Day is the perfect excuse to spend money. Whether I’m splurging on new joggers for my boyfriend, buying all the cutest snacks and decor for an upcoming Galentine’s Party, or just getting myself the shoes I’ve been eyeing (for forever), I enjoy having a reason — or at least an excuse — to spend on the people I love. With the amount of once-a-year Valentine’s deals, there’s no reason to not add that extra bag of white creme Hershey’s Kisses to your cart.

On the 14th, everything you do is your choice. If you feel like staying in, putting on a facemask, FaceTiming your mom and ending your night with a sappy rom-com — do it. If you want to mingle with other singles, then put on your cutest red and pink fit and hit the town with your friends. And if your significant other has a romantic, elaborate date planned, have the best time (and tip your waiters well). This is your day to treat yourself to some extra fun.

If your friends already have plans for the evening, use Valentine’s Day as an opportunity to relax, rediscover old hobbies, and make time for yourself. There’s no better occasion to make yourself some Trader Joe’s heart-shaped pasta for dinner — and try all their other Valentine’s-themed snacks while you’re at it.

Most of all, Valentine’s Day is a reminder to love yourself, your friends, your family, and/or your significant other a little bit harder. It’s a great time to tell the people in your life how grateful you are for them; this could be through words, emojis, gifts, hugs, or quality time. It’s also the perfect time to treat yourself with kindness. Buy yourself some chocolate and flowers and don’t think too hard about the day — you’ll miss out on all the fun. Happy Valentine’s Day to all! 

For the last year, I have been teaching lessons through an organization which connects art instructors to children with chronic illnesses.

These hour-long lessons are the best part of my week, but I did not always think that teaching was so simple, especially when I first started off.

My first student was just a year younger than me, but his life is very different from mine.

He is homeschooled on the other side of the country, in California, and he primarily speaks Spanish with his family.

He also lives with cerebral palsy and hearing loss.

One of the only things we have in common is that we really love doing art.

I love drawing and painting just about any subject — landscapes, figure drawings, still lifes — but my favorite is human faces. That is why, for my first lesson with him, I planned for us to do self-portraits.

That first day, I logged on to our video call and dove right into instruction.

Using the same art supplies that I had shipped him earlier that week, I began demonstrating how to draw a face while narrating directions like “Using a pencil that matches your skin-color, draw an upside-down egg shape for your head.”

However, whether it was due to our language-barrier, his loss of hearing, or unclear instructions, it became obvious to me that my style of teaching was not working.

Even worse, I could feel his creativity being stifled and his motivation dwindling.

Frustrated with myself, I decided to abandon the lesson and use the time to chat with him instead, which he was happy to do.

For thirty minutes, we got to know each other.

He introduced me to his dog, Cookie, who sleeps in his room, and I introduced him to my stuffed bear Polu, who gives me company in my dorm. He told me his favorite animal was a panda bear.

He even showed me his private sketchbook. It was filled with wonderful drawings of superheroes, which he had made from following YouTube tutorials. By the end of our lesson, I had finished my simple self-portrait, so I showed it to him and discussed some of the techniques I had used to make it.

Later that evening, I got a text from him — a photograph of his completed self-portrait! Suddenly it clicked.

When he had seen my finished drawing or Youtube tutorials on superheroes, he could see the product before he started. When I had tried to teach him earlier, it must have seemed like putting random shapes and colors on the paper. If my background was so different from my student’s, how could I expect him to magically understand the art piece I had in mind?

Moving forward, I decided to reevaluate our curriculum with a focus on his learning style and interests. Now, whenever I teach him a lesson, I make the piece of art multiple times at various stages of completion.

I have one version of the drawing prepared to show him at the beginning of the class, a few to show him as we move through the lesson, and then I create another version as we work through the drawing together.

Also, he and I choose a subject together before the lesson, so he actually likes what he is drawing; most recently, we drew a picture of Captain America and another of a panda bear in a bamboo forest.

Finally, I have learned that it more important to use our time to form social connections, rather than focusing how good the final drawing is.

To be a good mentor to him, I have learned to be open and flexible and to see things from his perspective. I might be the art coach, but my students have taught me more lessons than they will ever know about what it means to be an educator, a mentor and a friend.

In May of 2020, I deleted Twitter.

I deleted Snapchat. I deleted one of my Instagram accounts. I went even further, and I stopped checking my texts. I stopped answering calls from friends. I avoided news outlets like the plague. I quit listening to podcasts. I hate to admit it, but even stopped listening to music too.

Two months into quarantine, people were desperate for human interaction. Zoom cocktail hours, Instagram challenges and online game-nights abounded, but instead of trying to stay as connected as possible, I made a shift into isolation.

This was a radical change for me, someone who prides themselves in being up-to-date and in-the-know, someone who was constantly cycling through multiple apps, someone who prioritized creating and sharing online. I have always thought that maintaining connections to your family and friends, your community and the world is one of the most important things one can do. But I just couldn’t do it anymore.

Up until that tipping point, I had been trying to do it all. Keep up with my emails, run social media accounts for different organizations, maintain upwards of ten personal accounts, keep up with four different weekly podcasts, watch Youtubers, binge Netflix, play mobile games, listen to all relevant new music releases every Friday, call my family multiple times a day, keep up with friends from home and college over text and Snapchat and FaceTime. It felt like a daily chore that I enjoyed. Or did I?

I often think about how I got to that place. When did my online life turn from vibrant and enriching to an overwhelming blur? I maintained that blur through the strangest semester of my life as we were sent home due to the novel coronavirus pandemic. That blur was all we had for those first few months.

Collectively piecing together information about the world is what gave us our sanity, or so I thought. But, instead of assuaging my rising feelings of panic in relation to what was going on around me, maintaining connections to the outside world only served to heighten my anxiety. I’m not sure if it was a slow progression or if it happened all at once. But, suddenly I was no longer able to interact with my phone without an overwhelming dread inching its way up my throat. Sometimes I felt like I was suffocating.

So I shut it all off. (Okay, not all of it. I still looked at Tik Tok).

And the results were… well they were good. Sitting at home, I had much more time to myself to just think. I learned new things about myself and became confident in the things I already knew about myself. I was able to embark on simple personal projects that I never thought I would be able to do. I began to exercise, take dance classes, learn how to write in Hindi, tie-dye clothing (thanks Tik Tok). I finally had time again to just do art.

Other than that, this was the probably the first time in my whole life that I was able to properly give my attention to my sisters, who are ten and twelve. Where before I would shoo them away when they asked me to play, now, I now had the time (and the energy) to say yes. I know that this pandemic was difficult for many people and in many ways, but I am so thankful for the time it gave me to spend with my family.

After the summer, I felt comfortable enough to download Twitter again, and now I use it in a casual fashion; it doesn’t matter if I ever tweet or even check it every day. I just look at it when I want to.

I know it is important to connect with the world around you, but you cannot do that if you are not connected with yourself and the people closest to you first. I’m not necessarily recommending the cliché “delete your social media.” but I do recommend approaching the online world as optional and no-pressure. It should never feel like a chore, and if it is no longer bringing you joy, just disconnect.

In May of 2020, I deleted Twitter.

I deleted Snapchat. I deleted one of my Instagram accounts. I went even further, and I stopped checking my texts. I stopped answering calls from friends. I avoided news outlets like the plague. I quit listening to podcasts. I hate to admit it, but even stopped listening to music too.

Two months into quarantine, people were desperate for human interaction. Zoom cocktail hours, Instagram challenges and online game-nights abounded, but instead of trying to stay as connected as possible, I made a shift into isolation.

This was a radical change for me, someone who prides themselves in being up-to-date and in-the-know, someone who was constantly cycling through multiple apps, someone who prioritized creating and sharing online. I have always thought that maintaining connections to your family and friends, your community and the world is one of the most important things one can do. But I just couldn’t do it anymore.

Up until that tipping point, I had been trying to do it all. Keep up with my emails, run social media accounts for different organizations, maintain upwards of ten personal accounts, keep up with four different weekly podcasts, watch Youtubers, binge Netflix, play mobile games, listen to all relevant new music releases every Friday, call my family multiple times a day, keep up with friends from home and college over text and Snapchat and FaceTime. It felt like a daily chore that I enjoyed. Or did I?

I often think about how I got to that place. When did my online life turn from vibrant and enriching to an overwhelming blur? I maintained that blur through the strangest semester of my life as we were sent home due to the novel coronavirus pandemic. That blur was all we had for those first few months.

Collectively piecing together information about the world is what gave us our sanity, or so I thought. But, instead of assuaging my rising feelings of panic in relation to what was going on around me, maintaining connections to the outside world only served to heighten my anxiety. I’m not sure if it was a slow progression or if it happened all at once. But, suddenly I was no longer able to interact with my phone without an overwhelming dread inching its way up my throat. Sometimes I felt like I was suffocating.

So I shut it all off. (Okay, not all of it. I still looked at Tik Tok).

And the results were… well they were good. Sitting at home, I had much more time to myself to just think. I learned new things about myself and became confident in the things I already knew about myself. I was able to embark on simple personal projects that I never thought I would be able to do. I began to exercise, take dance classes, learn how to write in Hindi, tie-dye clothing (thanks Tik Tok). I finally had time again to just do art.

Other than that, this was the probably the first time in my whole life that I was able to properly give my attention to my sisters, who are ten and twelve. Where before I would shoo them away when they asked me to play, now, I now had the time (and the energy) to say yes. I know that this pandemic was difficult for many people and in many ways, but I am so thankful for the time it gave me to spend with my family.

After the summer, I felt comfortable enough to download Twitter again, and now I use it in a casual fashion; it doesn’t matter if I ever tweet or even check it every day. I just look at it when I want to.

I know it is important to connect with the world around you, but you cannot do that if you are not connected with yourself and the people closest to you first. I’m not necessarily recommending the cliché “delete your social media.” but I do recommend approaching the online world as optional and no-pressure. It should never feel like a chore, and if it is no longer bringing you joy, just disconnect.

As defined by an Urban Dictionary user, cringe culture is: “making fun of people and/or insulting them by calling them ‘cringey’ or ‘cringe’ for doing something which doesn’t harm or somehow insult anyone nor anything.” This internet subculture’s origins can be traced back to subreddits like r/cringe or r/cringepics, where people would share other people’s “cringy” content to make fun of it en masse. Reposting and sharing this content is ultimately a harmful form of entertainment and a cheap attempt at humor. 

Cringe culture is not new. It is the reason why shows like “America’s Funniest Home Videos” are so popular and why Tommy Wiseau’s objectively terrible film, “The Room,” skyrocketed to fame. Laughing at others has always been a source of humor for people.

However, like many things, cringe culture has become overblown with the advent of the internet. All of a sudden, anyone can share anything and everything. Simultaneously, users are able to speak recklessly and without consequence. These two factors have combined to create a new and “edgy” sense of internet humor that revolves around making fun of people that seem, well, different.

I myself have participated in this culture. In 2015, the heyday of short-form video sharing service Vine, I often watched vines made by @singinggirl. Her earnest 6-second clips of her covers of popular songs quickly went viral on the platform. People, myself included, deemed her singing to be terrible or “cringy,” and her comments were flooded with hate. Looking back, I realize that I was contributing to a toxic mentality simply by sharing her content. 

Even now, much of the Youtube content I consume is from “commentary channels” like that of Tech’s own Danny Gonzalez’s or Cody Ko’s, whose claim to fame is a series called “THAT’S CRINGE.” These channels focus their commentary on strange internet users and subgroups on platforms like Instagram, Youtube and Tik Tok. Of course, there is a difference between critiquing people who put their content up with the expectation of criticism, versus making fun of private individuals.

That is the heart of the problem with cringe culture — usually the people getting made fun of are harmless, just too awkward or earnest to exist on the ironic and sarcastic world of the internet. Most often, this thinly veiled bullying is aimed at children, the queer community, women and especially neurodivergent and disabled people. 

As a result of this bullying, no one is allowed to just have genuine interests anymore — it is safer to be ironic and cynical online. Cringe culture also encourages suicide jokes and self-hatred. People, especially children, are forced to limit their personal expression and creativity for fear of being included in a cringe compilation.

Cringe culture is not only harmful to the person being bullied, but also the viewers of the “cringe” content. It only serves to compound the de-empathizing effect of social media; we rationalize treating other humans as objects of entertainment instead of people. 

Thankfully, I would say that cringe culture is on the decline. There are posts circulating popular social media sites that say things like “cringe culture is a hate group against autistic people and other people with special interests” and “you are allowed to enjoy things that people deem ‘childish.’” There seems to be a growing sentiment to just let people be themselves. 

So next time you see someone’s earnest content going viral for being “cringy,” do not repost it and definitely do not comment negative things. And maybe next time you decide not to share something with the world because it is not “cool” enough, just share it anyway. Life is too short to not
be yourself.  

Climate change discussion has moved from being filler news stories to the forefront of many people’s minds — and Twitter timelines. We all know the statistics: according to the UN, over the last 150 years, the global average temperature has risen almost one degree, and ocean levels have risen around 20 cm. Climate change has already impacted the environment. We have started to see major ice melting, coastal flooding, increases in extreme weather events, droughts and wildfires, the destruction of marine ecosystems and much more.

If climate change continues hurtling down its current trajectory, the effects are going to be disastrous, deadly and soon. For perspective, an analysis done by C40 Cities found that 800 million people, around 11% of the world population, are vulnerable to the effects of sea level rise alone.

Slowly, more and more climate change deniers are opening up to the truth: throughout the last few centuries, humanity has drastically accelerated global warming and climate change. However, as the myths surrounding global warming are dispelled, new ones are cropping up. Mainly, it is the idea that individuals are responsible for climate change.

We see new accusations on the internet on a weekly basis. We hear “Don’t ship using Amazon Prime!,” Stop eating meat!,” “Don’t fly on big airplanes!” and of course, “If you do any of these things, it means you are a bad person, and you want the Earth to die.”While changing our lifestyle drastically may help in reducing emissions slightly, statistically, individuals are essentially blameless for the large scale of climate change that we are experiencing.

According to a report published by the Carbon Disclosure Project in conjunction with the Climate Accountability Institute, there are 100 companies and governments have been the source of more than 70% of the world’s greenhouse gas emissions since 1988.

And climate change is happening as a result of these overblown multinational companies and the governmental and economic structures that grant them all-powerful status.

This problem was not created by the things we do in our everyday life, and it is not going to be fixed by stopping them either. In fact, if we waste time worrying about how our little actions are contributing to climate change, we are distracting ourselves from pushing for meaningful change.

So, if changing our lifestyle is not the answer, what is?

First, we know how effective education campaigns can be in dominating narratives around environmental issues. One interesting example of this is the Keep America Beautiful (KAB) campaign. In the 1950s, America was experiencing a surplus of production, and therefore, a surplus of trash generated by the packaging waste of corporations.

In response to the public cry for change, many of these multinational corporations, including Coca-Cola and the Dixie Cup Company banded together to create KAB and spearhead a campaign villainizing “litter-bugs,” individuals who carelessly toss out trash. These corporations effectively shifted the onus of trash pollution from themselves to individual households. Years later, we see KAB’s effects continue; there are punishments of fines and jail time for individuals who litter, while there are still barely any regulations on the packaging industry.

We need to counter the current education that climate change is because we do not turn off the water while we are shampooing or because we forget to recycle sometimes.

Although environmental harms may not directly be our fault, we do have a duty to ourselves to advocate for real change. We need to focus our efforts in the right place: political activism. One way is to vote for politicians that prioritize solutions to climate change. Even better, we ought to only vote for politicians that refuse to take money from lobbyists and big companies.

Another way is to contact our representatives or local government. Sign petitions, call them, write to them, tweet at them. Instead of pestering our friends about going vegan, pester our senator about the importance of regulations on oil and gas.

But the biggest thing we can do is be aware and spread awareness — if as many people talked about the way our laws grant extremely wealthy organizations too much power as they talked about switching to metal straws to save the turtles, change is bound to happen. We can restructure the dialogue surrounding global warming ourselves: our own version of an education campaign.

It is probably true that obsessing over the environmental impact of each of our actions might contribute positively to the problem, but the fact of the matter is it will not make a dent in the amount of change that needs to happen.

Though it is not all bad; these trends that pop up on our feeds represent a growing consciousness about the environment. Of course, you should keep carpooling and turning off lights when you leave the room. However, we also have to ensure that we are aware of what the root of the problem is and know that using metal straws instead of plastic ones is just not enough.

Ultimately, we have to stop thinking individuals ought to carry the burden alone — humanity as a collective needs to bear the burden of climate change together.

Billie Eilish is a 17-year-old choir-singer turned breakout star, whose first single “ocean eyes” was released in 2016 and debut EP “Don’t Smile at Me” came out around a year after. Last week, she released her debut album “When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go?” which is a 14 track dive into Billie Eilish’s unique world of spooky teenage pop. 

Over the last year, Eilish has gained somewhat of a cult following. The Los Angeles native grew up homeschooled, and she was introduced to the world of music by her brother Finneas O’Connell, who still produces most of her music and performs with her at her live shows. 

Eilish’s sound is like no one else’s. Her voice is breathy and quiet, and her tone is somehow both haunting and intimate. Billie Eilish’s music style transcends genre, delving into pop, hip-hop, indie and even EDM. 

Most importantly, the production value of Eilish’s songs is almost always impeccable. Her floaty voice waterfalls over beats with rumbling bass. Her uniquely dark sense of humor shines though in various unique audio samples like a recording of her taking out her Invisalign, the sound of swords unsheathing and even clips from television show “The Office.”

The opening track sets a baseline for the personality of the album. The 14-second track “!!!!!!!” starts with the sound of Billie removing her Invisalign retainer and joking around with her brother. She says, “I have taken out my Invisalign and this is the album,” and the two of them burst into laughter. The audience is set up to hear the songs, and they know to take the horror of the album with a good sense of humor.  

“!!!!!!!” leads directly into the album’s second track “bad guy,” where Billie’s strengths are on full display. “bad guy” is a playful song with a thumping bass that shows Billie taunting her boyfriend and telling him that she is the “bad-boy” in their relationship rather than him. This track is indicative of Eilish’s typical sound, and her classic irreverence comes out when each chorus ends her sarcastic voice saying “Duh!” 

The standout of “When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go?” is “bury a friend,” which was the first single from the album. It opens in a gentle, paced melody reinforced with a distinct and rhythmic beat. However, the song quickly descends into a chaotic nightmare-scape, complete with screams, screeching tones and occasional growling. The song has morbid lyrics, and in a recurring verse, Eilish sings, “step on the glass, staple your tongue / bury a friend, try to wake up.” This violent imagery is a common theme in her songs, and Billie has often said she enjoys playing characters in her music. 

Of course, she can also fall prey to over-stylizing and over-producing her music, which was her biggest weakness in her first EP, and her lyrics are still occasionally contrived. In “wish you were gay,” Eilish attempts a play on a countdown, singing, “four days has never felt so long / if three’s a crowd and two was us / one slipped away.” The set-up feels forced, and as the motif continues through the song, it begins to feel heavy handed. In this aspect, it does feel like Billie has come back older but not too much wiser. 

Other songs provide a change of pace from her more typical songs, like “8” where Billie Eilish’s voice is pitched up to make her sound even younger than she already is, and instead of a bass-heavy track, she is singing along to bright ukulele music. “I love you” attempts to recreate the soaring melody of her hit song “lovely (with Khalid),” but the song falls flat as its tune is almost the same as that of “Hallelujah” by Leonard Cohen. The production of “xanny” is artful and ironic with a very unexpected message. As Billie is singing about how unnecessary it is to take drugs and drink alcohol to “feel good,” her voice fades in and out, creating the effect of a pill-like haze. 

While her album builds on her unique style and personality, it is clear that Billie Eilish has some maturing to do. Still, her album offers a fresh perspective on pop that is desperately needed right now. The album delves into emotions relevant to young people today in a unique, insightful and fun way. 

Overall, Eilish’s debut, “When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go?,” is a well-produced and morbidly fun album to listen to. 

How can Shakespeare’s The Tempest be read through the lens of imperialist policy? What benefits are there to studying books that are way too long, like Salman Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children? Many at Tech have had to ask similar questions in their own version of ENGL 1101 and 1102. 

As a first-year engineering major currently enrolled in ENGL 1102, I have also been asking myself some tough questions. After all, Tech as a school is heavily STEM oriented, and I often hear my friends saying they “hate English class.” So why are we taking English classes with these random themes? 

While the sections of English have vastly different topics, the main curriculum is still the same. One defining feature is the WOVEN modes of communication — Written, Oral, Visual, Electronic and Non-Verbal — that are taught in the course. Another is the three to four projects or “Artifacts” that ultimately get compiled into a final portfolio. 

Often times it feels like English class is something you have to get through, but that is precisely the issue. English is not useless, and it is not just a mundane requirement. It teaches imperative skills that everyone, including STEM majors, needs to succeed. Further, you will learn skills in your English class — like the ability to draw meaningful connections between seemingly different topics — that you will not be able to learn from any other class. I believe that cultivating communication skills through an English class is a non-negotiable for a college education. Still, it is clear that some changes still need to be made. 

I think it is helpful to understand the rationale behind specific theme. Both my ENGL 1101 and 1102 themes were enjoyable, not because I was already interested in the subject, but because my teachers were enthusiastic about the material and were clear about why it mattered to them. It helped a lot to understand that my English teachers were teaching directly about their own research, which is something you rarely get as a first-year taking very general classes. 

Secondly, while I realize the WOVEN part of the curriculum is one of the consistencies across sections of English, I believe they need to be more deeply integrated into the class. Sometimes, it can feel as if WOVEN is just a box that your teacher is trying to tick off so they can get to the more interesting things. The culminating project is directly about WOVEN, and it can be difficult to do it when you only discussed it in the beginning of the semester. 

Finally, I believe the biggest change that should be made is in the attitudes of the students themselves. We need to see English class the way it is: a chance to hone the communication skills we will inevitably need through our careers — or even to land an internship at a career fair. This attitude shift will never be universal; there will always be those kids that just “hate English class.” But at least when we are taking a class about real-life vampires, instead of seeing it as a burden, we can start seeing it as an opportunity to learn about something vastly different than our field of study. 

Nestled across from the famous High Museum of Art is the smaller yet no less impressive Museum of Design Atlanta (MODA). After walking into the glassy and colorful building, museum-goers are led down a hallway stamped with stark text and enlarged black-and-white photos. The hallway is segmented by large panels, and after visitors tilt their heads to get a better glimpse, they are confronted with striking questions — “Where do you learn?” “Where do you sleep?” “Where do you live?”

These are the questions that shape “Design for Good: Architecture for Everyone,” MODA’s current exhibit curated by architect, speaker and writer John Cary. Often, social-justice outreach and health initiatives are focused on the “How?” but rarely do they focus on the “Where?” But slowly, people are beginning to understand that where outreach occurs is heavily linked to how impactful it is. The first hallway cleverly introduces the core idea of the exhibit — “everyone deserves good design.”

After emerging from the hallway, visitors arrive in an open space with sections allotted to case studies of architecture projects, all significant examples of the impact that good design can have. Each case study includes important profiling information, including the location, cost and source of funding for the project. These profiles are accompanied by vibrant images and quotes from clients that weave together to tell a story of what beautiful architecture made with the aim of maximization can do for community.

The case studies are brought to life by architectural models, the most engaging part of the curation. These to-scale models provide an aerial view of the individual projects, allowing the visitor to view them from different angles and truly appreciate the work in a way that photographs do not allow.

One prominent case study is the “Maternity Waiting Village” in rural Malawi, a shelter which gives local pregnant women a place to stay so they can have immediate access to health care. This village was created with the intent to improve on previous shelters, which were essentially “brick blocks” built like a “stable.” With this example, Cary makes it clear that “design for good” means using design to dignify the lives of those who have not been allowed that decency.

Another case study discussed is the “Women’s Opportunity Center” in Rwanda, a cluster of mud-brick pavilions in which Rwandan women and children can gather and learn. Each pavilion is an intricate spiral with recessed seating, a modern design that highly contrasts its surroundings, and at night time, the lit shelters look like lanterns or beacons of hope. The Women’s Center has given Rwandan women not only a place to call their own, but a place they are proud of. Cary uses this study to highlight that when respect is given to people, they are then in turn able to respect themselves and the world around them.

Cary’s most unique look at the impact of architecture is an project a little closer to home, The National Memorial for Peace and Justice in Montgomery,  Alabama. Cary’s curation, which remembers the thousands of victims of lynching, highlights the intention behind the construction of the memorial. The exhibit communicates how the memorial manages to physicalize the weight of lynching tragedies rather than intellectualizing or even just dismissing them as numbers. At this point in the tour, visitors understand that good design can show that even those who are gone are deserving of dignity. Cary even covers a design project close to Tech students’ hearts — and Tech’s campus — by including a brief overview of the impact of the Atlanta BeltLine.

MODA defines “design” as the intersection of creativity and functionality, and the “Design for Good” exhibit exemplifies this juncture. Design is everywhere, and Cary puts it perfectly — “It’s about the lives all of us lead, inextricablty shaped by the spaces we inhabit.” “Design for Good: Architecture for Everyone” is a must for anyone who wishes to broaden their understanding of design and understand the functional implications that creative design has on everyday life. While not as visually stimulating as other exhibits, the weight of Jon Cary’s message and the stories of those impacted by good design make MODA’s current exhibit a worthwhile and enriching visit.