I have a confession to make. I write as if I have everything together – as if I have all the ideologies about love figured out. I write as if I understand love up and down, through and through. But the truth is, when I am personally placed in a situation that involves feelings of romance, I often find myself stuck or confused with what I actually want and need. 

I think many of us feel the same.

Many of us are great at talking about love, great at analyzing other relationships and great at giving advice based on the lessons we have learned. But when it comes to taking our own advice, we hesitate. We stumble. We magically forget what we had said. This is what psychologists call Solomon’s Paradox– named after King Solomon, who was known for offering wise, insightful counsel that he struggled to follow in his own life. It is the idea that we reason more wisely about other people’s problems than our own. But when it comes to love, there is nothing wrong with being uncertain; the problem is, we feel like it is. Of course, people grow and unravel the kind of love they want as time goes by, but it is never linear.

A prominent example of how love resists linearity lies in the question, “Am I only attracted to the opposite sex?” The “linear” – or straight – path suggests we grow up knowing exactly who we are and who we will love. For some, that path fits perfectly. They understand their desires early on, and those desires stay steady. But for others, especially those within the LGTBQ+ community, it is more complicated. Some suppress feelings they do not yet understand. Some bury them under the pressure to conform to what is considered “linear” in society. Others do not even realize there was a question to ask until there is a moment where it asks itself quietly. These questions and confusion do not make anyone’s experience less legitimate. The question of attraction is not about invalidating one kind of love over another, but rather acknowledging that discovering what we want, who we are and how we connect is rarely a straight line. 

Even the way we express ourselves is fluid. Love languages, whether it is words of affirmation, physical touch, quality time, acts of service or gift giving, are considered to be personality traits. There is a test online that allows you to have insight on which love language you yourself may gravitate towards more. However, these methods of expression may differ from a month-to-month or even a day-to-day basis. What once felt awkward might later become vital. Sometimes we crave reassurance. Other times, we just want someone to do the dishes without being asked. Maybe there is a day when all we need is a meaningful hug. There is no set formula. While one love language might feel more important at times, pinning all our hopes on a single method – especially in a partner –  is rarely sustainable. Love is not a fixed equation. It is a conversation that changes as we do.

As cliche as it may sound, love is like a game – not because we are playing against one another, but because no two people play it the same way. There are no rules set in stone, no single path to follow and no perfect strategy. Everyone grows at a different pace. Some people figure out what they want early on, while others uncover it piece by piece, day by day. Our needs shift. Our boundaries evolve. Every day, we learn something new about ourselves and others when it comes to ideas of love. We get closer and closer to understanding what we truly desire, even if that understanding comes slowly. Questioning, shifting, unlearning and relearning is all part of the story. And even when it feels like we are stuck, like we are making no progress at all, we are. A mistake teaches us something. A heartbreak uncovers a limit. Love is not about getting it right the first time. It is about growing through the process and letting the process be enough.

“For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.” Newton’s third law of motion describes how forces operate in balance and opposition. This law can also be used as a metaphor for the political divide unfolding within Generation Z. The older segment of Gen Z, the activists who fought alongside reproductive rights, the Black Lives Matter movement and climate change, pushed hard for progressive values. Now, the younger segment of Gen Z has started to push back against their older peers, embracing more traditional, conservative values.

This inter-generational struggle is more about the reaction to politics than a disconnection. While old Gen Z’s reaction to politics is through a lens of progressive values, young Gen Z reacts by embracing more traditional values. In 2022, the political pendulum swung to the left for Generation Z. Now, it seems to be swinging back.

The oldest members of Gen Z are around 28 years old in 2025, meaning they graduated high school in 2014 and college in 2018—before the upheaval of the COVID-19 pandemic. In contrast, Gen Z members born around 2001 graduated high school and entered college in 2020, right as the pandemic disrupted education, social life and the economy. For those born after 2001, many spent their formative years attending school through Zoom or entered adulthood amid lockdowns. This difference marks a stark divide in formative experiences.

Old Gen Z’s coming of age saw the rise of anti-Trump resistance movements and protests like the Women’s March, climate strikes, Black Lives Matter and the March for Our Lives. Fast forward to 2020 through 2025, young Gen Z graduated high school through a livestream, and started college on Zoom. When the COVID-19 restrictions were lifted, they were thrust into a campus environment that lost all semblance of pre-pandemic times.

The 2024 political climate played a significant role as well. In 2024, a Blue Rose Research analysis found a 20-point gender gap in Democratic support between men and women ages 25 and younger. That is twice as large as the gap observed among voters aged 40 to 70. According to Yale’s Youth Poll, voters between the ages of 22 and 29 favored Kamala Harris by a margin of 6.4 points. Comparatively, voters between the ages of 18 and 21 favored Donald Trump by a margin of 11.7 points.

Despite the stark differences between Donald Trump and Kamala Harris during the 2024 election, many young Gen Z voted in response to the effects of the Biden administration’s COVID-19 policies. For young Gen Z members who entered high school or college in 2020, the pandemic disrupted education, delayed personal, formative milestones and intensified mental health challenges. Old Gen Z came of age, politically, during Trump’s first term, experiencing it as older teenagers. For young Gen Z, they were still in middle school.

Young Gen Z may not remember the impacts of the first Trump presidency as well as their older peers. However, it was young Gen Z who came of age during the height of extreme online political reaction. From 2016 to today, platforms like TikTok, X and Instagram are saturated with emotionally charged reactions towards America’s conservative body politic writ large. Old Gen Z, having become politically “woke” under Trump’s first term, flooded these platforms with doom-and-gloom perspectives and performative outrage towards conservatives. For young Gen Z, these reactions felt overblown, alienating or just plain performative to garner online attention.

This online flood of extreme rhetoric, the growing influence of cancel culture and hyper-progressive, identity-based politics failed to connect with young Gen Z voters. It is not that young Gen Z stepped back from politics, they stepped to the right, drawn towards a community that offered order, traditional values and an escape from the chaotic progressive movements.

Personally, I underwent this political conversion.

I believed in the causes. I believed it was the Democratic Party that would change America for the better. But when people were being canceled over a dumb tweet from their past, when politicians broke their own COVID restrictions while keeping the rest of us locked down and when tolerance was given only to those who repeated the approved narrative, I changed sides.

The idea of a rising Democratic electorate, where future generations of young, progressive-leaning voters will deliver electoral victories for the Democratic Party, will disappear should the Democrats continue down this path. If they do not change course, not only will they lose more elections, but also future generations as well.

I know what you must be thinking. “Seize the day” might just be one of the most overused, generic inspirational quotes to ever exist. In fact, I myself used to see it as nothing but a meaningless platitude. However, my four years at Drexel University have been a journey towards understanding the true meaning of these three words.

As a freshman, when my parents told me that I was about to head into the “best years of my life,” I struggled to believe it. Freshman year has a way of raising anxiety levels; for what is most likely the first time, you have to look after yourself in an unfamiliar city full of unfamiliar people. This phase can be the hardest to get through, and especially having come right off of losing my senior year of high school to the pandemic, I went into college finding that my social skills had gone into a strange slump (as if I was not already socially awkward).

During my first year, I found myself largely going through the motions each day, letting time pass me by and usually staying cooped up in my dorm when I did not have class. This was not exactly intentional; as much as I wanted to become socially involved, I would let small defeats hurl me back into my rigid comfort zone. One failed attempt to make friends at a social event or club meeting would discourage me from continuing to try. There was even a point when I started to feel like “the college life” was just not for me. It took me longer than it should have to realize the truth: you get to decide what “the college life” is. There are so many options that it has to offer, and I eventually found that there was in fact something for me. I just needed to keep on searching for it rather than expecting it to find me.

An important part of this is finding the right people. This could take time; do not lose hope just because you struggle to become the best of friends with your first roommate or do not manage to make friends in your first few classes. There are hundreds of students (and professors) on campus, each with their own unique stories and personalities. Among them, you are bound to find some people who genuinely encourage and inspire you to recognize your talents and skills that you might be taking for granted. However, this will only happen if you keep putting yourself out there.

As an introvert, “put yourself out there” used to be a very intimidating phrase for me, but I have learned from experience that the only way to overcome that fear is to actually do it, again and again. This is certainly easier said than done; it will not necessarily work out in an instant. You might struggle to connect with people at some events, but stick it out nonetheless because you never know when you will find the right one. In the meantime, you will only gain more clarity about what works for you and what does not. You might even end up facing disappointment five consecutive times, but do not let that stop you from trying a sixth time. There are literally hundreds of different things you could try, and when just one of those works out, it could become an invaluable part of your college experience.

In fact, if there is anything that you like to do, chances are that there will be some way to get involved with it on campus, even if you think it is too niche. This could be by joining a student organization, adding a minor or even taking a single elective. Drexel can throw some real surprises sometimes, like when I got to take a film studies class called “Indian Cinema Today,” something which I would have never imagined getting to take a college course about.

Coming from someone who used to have trouble with speaking up in class, you should take the opportunity to say what you think during your classes. Believe it or not, there are so many people who are genuinely interested in hearing what you have to say, even if you think you cannot “perfectly” articulate it. In fact, it was a friend I made during junior year who encouraged me to try publishing my writing, which I used to keep private out of lack of confidence. That was what inspired me to seek out and apply for the Triangle, and becoming a part of this community turned out to be one of the best decisions I ever made during my college years.

The point is that it is never too late to take the opportunity to try something new. It can feel intimidating at first, but speaking from experience, I promise that you are capable of even more than you think; you just have to commit yourself to searching until you find the right environment for you, one that will allow you to spread your wings and soar. Plus, unlike what peer pressure may push you to think, there is absolutely no need to engage in risky behavior to get there. Know your personal boundaries and trust your instincts about what works for you and what does not; just try not to make overly hasty judgments.

Turn every day into an opportunity to do something meaningful, something that allows you to grow. Some days might be a slog, but never let that stop you from looking forward to the next day because each day brings a plethora of opportunities; you just have to venture out to find them. This might sound exhausting, and in all honesty, it can be at times. However, when you are doing things that truly excite you, you will find that you automatically have so much more energy to do them. The easiest way to burn yourself out is by forcing yourself to do things you are not genuinely interested in, whether out of pressure or a sense of obligation. When you are not being true to yourself, you are only wasting the precious few years that you have to explore all kinds of opportunities and discover the multitudes that lie within you. It may seem like you have a lot of time on your hands, but it truly does fly by.

Therefore, when I say “seize the day,” what I really mean is: do not let the day seize you. Take it into your hands and make it your own. Sometimes, it might not seem like the world has something for you, but the only way to know is to keep on searching. College is a grand opportunity to learn about yourself, find your identity and simply enjoy yourself. If you use it well, you will come out with a level of self-confidence you never imagined you could have.

I have a confession to make. I write as if I have everything together – as if I have all the ideologies about love figured out. I write as if I understand love up and down, through and through. But the truth is, when I am personally placed in a situation that involves feelings of romance, I often find myself stuck or confused with what I actually want and need. 

I think many of us feel the same.

Many of us are great at talking about love, great at analyzing other relationships and great at giving advice based on the lessons we have learned. But when it comes to taking our own advice, we hesitate. We stumble. We magically forget what we had said. This is what psychologists call Solomon’s Paradox– named after King Solomon, who was known for offering wise, insightful counsel that he struggled to follow in his own life. It is the idea that we reason more wisely about other people’s problems than our own. But when it comes to love, there is nothing wrong with being uncertain; the problem is, we feel like it is. Of course, people grow and unravel the kind of love they want as time goes by, but it is never linear.

A prominent example of how love resists linearity lies in the question, “Am I only attracted to the opposite sex?” The “linear” – or straight – path suggests we grow up knowing exactly who we are and who we will love. For some, that path fits perfectly. They understand their desires early on, and those desires stay steady. But for others, especially those within the LGTBQ+ community, it is more complicated. Some suppress feelings they do not yet understand. Some bury them under the pressure to conform to what is considered “linear” in society. Others do not even realize there was a question to ask until there is a moment where it asks itself quietly. These questions and confusion do not make anyone’s experience less legitimate. The question of attraction is not about invalidating one kind of love over another, but rather acknowledging that discovering what we want, who we are and how we connect is rarely a straight line. 

Even the way we express ourselves is fluid. Love languages, whether it is words of affirmation, physical touch, quality time, acts of service or gift giving, are considered to be personality traits. There is a test online that allows you to have insight on which love language you yourself may gravitate towards more. However, these methods of expression may differ from a month-to-month or even a day-to-day basis. What once felt awkward might later become vital. Sometimes we crave reassurance. Other times, we just want someone to do the dishes without being asked. Maybe there is a day when all we need is a meaningful hug. There is no set formula. While one love language might feel more important at times, pinning all our hopes on a single method – especially in a partner –  is rarely sustainable. Love is not a fixed equation. It is a conversation that changes as we do.

As cliche as it may sound, love is like a game – not because we are playing against one another, but because no two people play it the same way. There are no rules set in stone, no single path to follow and no perfect strategy. Everyone grows at a different pace. Some people figure out what they want early on, while others uncover it piece by piece, day by day. Our needs shift. Our boundaries evolve. Every day, we learn something new about ourselves and others when it comes to ideas of love. We get closer and closer to understanding what we truly desire, even if that understanding comes slowly. Questioning, shifting, unlearning and relearning is all part of the story. And even when it feels like we are stuck, like we are making no progress at all, we are. A mistake teaches us something. A heartbreak uncovers a limit. Love is not about getting it right the first time. It is about growing through the process and letting the process be enough.

“For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.” Newton’s third law of motion describes how forces operate in balance and opposition. This law can also be used as a metaphor for the political divide unfolding within Generation Z. The older segment of Gen Z, the activists who fought alongside reproductive rights, the Black Lives Matter movement and climate change, pushed hard for progressive values. Now, the younger segment of Gen Z has started to push back against their older peers, embracing more traditional, conservative values.

This inter-generational struggle is more about the reaction to politics than a disconnection. While old Gen Z’s reaction to politics is through a lens of progressive values, young Gen Z reacts by embracing more traditional values. In 2022, the political pendulum swung to the left for Generation Z. Now, it seems to be swinging back.

The oldest members of Gen Z are around 28 years old in 2025, meaning they graduated high school in 2014 and college in 2018—before the upheaval of the COVID-19 pandemic. In contrast, Gen Z members born around 2001 graduated high school and entered college in 2020, right as the pandemic disrupted education, social life and the economy. For those born after 2001, many spent their formative years attending school through Zoom or entered adulthood amid lockdowns. This difference marks a stark divide in formative experiences.

Old Gen Z’s coming of age saw the rise of anti-Trump resistance movements and protests like the Women’s March, climate strikes, Black Lives Matter and the March for Our Lives. Fast forward to 2020 through 2025, young Gen Z graduated high school through a livestream, and started college on Zoom. When the COVID-19 restrictions were lifted, they were thrust into a campus environment that lost all semblance of pre-pandemic times.

The 2024 political climate played a significant role as well. In 2024, a Blue Rose Research analysis found a 20-point gender gap in Democratic support between men and women ages 25 and younger. That is twice as large as the gap observed among voters aged 40 to 70. According to Yale’s Youth Poll, voters between the ages of 22 and 29 favored Kamala Harris by a margin of 6.4 points. Comparatively, voters between the ages of 18 and 21 favored Donald Trump by a margin of 11.7 points.

Despite the stark differences between Donald Trump and Kamala Harris during the 2024 election, many young Gen Z voted in response to the effects of the Biden administration’s COVID-19 policies. For young Gen Z members who entered high school or college in 2020, the pandemic disrupted education, delayed personal, formative milestones and intensified mental health challenges. Old Gen Z came of age, politically, during Trump’s first term, experiencing it as older teenagers. For young Gen Z, they were still in middle school.

Young Gen Z may not remember the impacts of the first Trump presidency as well as their older peers. However, it was young Gen Z who came of age during the height of extreme online political reaction. From 2016 to today, platforms like TikTok, X and Instagram are saturated with emotionally charged reactions towards America’s conservative body politic writ large. Old Gen Z, having become politically “woke” under Trump’s first term, flooded these platforms with doom-and-gloom perspectives and performative outrage towards conservatives. For young Gen Z, these reactions felt overblown, alienating or just plain performative to garner online attention.

This online flood of extreme rhetoric, the growing influence of cancel culture and hyper-progressive, identity-based politics failed to connect with young Gen Z voters. It is not that young Gen Z stepped back from politics, they stepped to the right, drawn towards a community that offered order, traditional values and an escape from the chaotic progressive movements.

Personally, I underwent this political conversion.

I believed in the causes. I believed it was the Democratic Party that would change America for the better. But when people were being canceled over a dumb tweet from their past, when politicians broke their own COVID restrictions while keeping the rest of us locked down and when tolerance was given only to those who repeated the approved narrative, I changed sides.

The idea of a rising Democratic electorate, where future generations of young, progressive-leaning voters will deliver electoral victories for the Democratic Party, will disappear should the Democrats continue down this path. If they do not change course, not only will they lose more elections, but also future generations as well.

I know what you must be thinking. “Seize the day” might just be one of the most overused, generic inspirational quotes to ever exist. In fact, I myself used to see it as nothing but a meaningless platitude. However, my four years at Drexel University have been a journey towards understanding the true meaning of these three words.

As a freshman, when my parents told me that I was about to head into the “best years of my life,” I struggled to believe it. Freshman year has a way of raising anxiety levels; for what is most likely the first time, you have to look after yourself in an unfamiliar city full of unfamiliar people. This phase can be the hardest to get through, and especially having come right off of losing my senior year of high school to the pandemic, I went into college finding that my social skills had gone into a strange slump (as if I was not already socially awkward).

During my first year, I found myself largely going through the motions each day, letting time pass me by and usually staying cooped up in my dorm when I did not have class. This was not exactly intentional; as much as I wanted to become socially involved, I would let small defeats hurl me back into my rigid comfort zone. One failed attempt to make friends at a social event or club meeting would discourage me from continuing to try. There was even a point when I started to feel like “the college life” was just not for me. It took me longer than it should have to realize the truth: you get to decide what “the college life” is. There are so many options that it has to offer, and I eventually found that there was in fact something for me. I just needed to keep on searching for it rather than expecting it to find me.

An important part of this is finding the right people. This could take time; do not lose hope just because you struggle to become the best of friends with your first roommate or do not manage to make friends in your first few classes. There are hundreds of students (and professors) on campus, each with their own unique stories and personalities. Among them, you are bound to find some people who genuinely encourage and inspire you to recognize your talents and skills that you might be taking for granted. However, this will only happen if you keep putting yourself out there.

As an introvert, “put yourself out there” used to be a very intimidating phrase for me, but I have learned from experience that the only way to overcome that fear is to actually do it, again and again. This is certainly easier said than done; it will not necessarily work out in an instant. You might struggle to connect with people at some events, but stick it out nonetheless because you never know when you will find the right one. In the meantime, you will only gain more clarity about what works for you and what does not. You might even end up facing disappointment five consecutive times, but do not let that stop you from trying a sixth time. There are literally hundreds of different things you could try, and when just one of those works out, it could become an invaluable part of your college experience.

In fact, if there is anything that you like to do, chances are that there will be some way to get involved with it on campus, even if you think it is too niche. This could be by joining a student organization, adding a minor or even taking a single elective. Drexel can throw some real surprises sometimes, like when I got to take a film studies class called “Indian Cinema Today,” something which I would have never imagined getting to take a college course about.

Coming from someone who used to have trouble with speaking up in class, you should take the opportunity to say what you think during your classes. Believe it or not, there are so many people who are genuinely interested in hearing what you have to say, even if you think you cannot “perfectly” articulate it. In fact, it was a friend I made during junior year who encouraged me to try publishing my writing, which I used to keep private out of lack of confidence. That was what inspired me to seek out and apply for the Triangle, and becoming a part of this community turned out to be one of the best decisions I ever made during my college years.

The point is that it is never too late to take the opportunity to try something new. It can feel intimidating at first, but speaking from experience, I promise that you are capable of even more than you think; you just have to commit yourself to searching until you find the right environment for you, one that will allow you to spread your wings and soar. Plus, unlike what peer pressure may push you to think, there is absolutely no need to engage in risky behavior to get there. Know your personal boundaries and trust your instincts about what works for you and what does not; just try not to make overly hasty judgments.

Turn every day into an opportunity to do something meaningful, something that allows you to grow. Some days might be a slog, but never let that stop you from looking forward to the next day because each day brings a plethora of opportunities; you just have to venture out to find them. This might sound exhausting, and in all honesty, it can be at times. However, when you are doing things that truly excite you, you will find that you automatically have so much more energy to do them. The easiest way to burn yourself out is by forcing yourself to do things you are not genuinely interested in, whether out of pressure or a sense of obligation. When you are not being true to yourself, you are only wasting the precious few years that you have to explore all kinds of opportunities and discover the multitudes that lie within you. It may seem like you have a lot of time on your hands, but it truly does fly by.

Therefore, when I say “seize the day,” what I really mean is: do not let the day seize you. Take it into your hands and make it your own. Sometimes, it might not seem like the world has something for you, but the only way to know is to keep on searching. College is a grand opportunity to learn about yourself, find your identity and simply enjoy yourself. If you use it well, you will come out with a level of self-confidence you never imagined you could have.

Ancient Roman culture highlights a format of entertainment that somehow tuned everyone in despite its violent nature; those, we call gladiator fights. Audiences were jam-packed into coliseums, anticipating the violence as if it were a sport, watching strangers battle for survival all in front of a crowd. Fast forward a couple of thousand years, and while no one is swinging their weapons (thankfully), the emotional stakes of modern dating shows are oddly reminiscent. The battlefield is now a tropical villa, the weapons are deceit paired with fan service and the prize is “true love” — or maybe one to two brand deals. Of course, comparing reality dating shows to ancient combat may be an overstatement, but the spectacle-driven format, toxic drama and public judgment feel strangely similar. 

So, while being on a romantic reality TV show clearly affects the behavior of the contestants, who are constantly performing for the cameras, what about the viewers? Do they walk away unscathed, or do they begin to absorb the same performative habits, toxic expectations and dramatic notions of what love should look like?

Let us look at the popular Netflix reality show Too Hot To Handle. The show, which sends conventionally attractive singles to a tropical location to fall in love without physical intimacy, may seem harmless—and perhaps even noble—on the surface. The concept of the show is to create emotional intimacy between the couples before they decide to hop into bed together. However, despite the pretty packaging Too Hot to Handle is wrapped in, the show is engineered to create mass amounts of drama and keep the viewers on the edge of their seats. Humans are naturally drawn to conflict in TV shows and movies because it satisfies a deep-seated curiosity: one that allows us to explore chaos, tension and emotional extremes from a safe distance without having to experience the consequences firsthand. 

So if this is the case, what is the harm in exploring this curiosity, especially if the whole point is that we are watching to avoid experiencing these situations ourselves?

There are massive audiences drawn to reality TV shows, and while you might not feel like you are personally being influenced, the culture surrounding these shows trickles into everyday life. From the way people talk about relationships to the popularity of certain dating behaviors, the values and dynamics these shows are promoting become normalized in the real world. 

Take the new Netflix show Cheat: Unfinished Business, for example. The series brings together eight ex-couples who were previously in long-term relationships – until one of them (or both) cheated. While it is framed as an emotional experiment exploring forgiveness and closure, the show ultimately glamorizes toxic cycles, making betrayal seem forgivable if wrapped in enough drama and emotional intensity. Instead of promoting healing, it presents volatility as passion and normalizes the idea of rekindling broken trust for entertainment. Forgiveness is not always healing –  even more contradictory, several contestants begin pursuing new romantic connections while supposedly working to rebuild things with their exes, undermining the show’s very concept and reinforcing the idea that emotional chaos is not just acceptable, but desirable, if it keeps viewers watching.

The glamourization of toxic relationships we see across multiple other reality TV shows such as The Ultimatum (which forces manufactured jealousy) and 90 Day Fiancé (which sets up intense, high-pressure moments of vulnerability) reveals a troubling pattern: emotional turmoil is being repackaged as entertainment. Much like the Roman crowds who cheered for blood in the arena, today’s audiences are drawn to romantic chaos, betrayals and emotional breakdowns – so long as they are framed for our consumption and negative messaging wrapped in pretty wrapping paper. As the viewers of this media, it is critical we question how these shows may impact our understanding of love and whether or not the toxic mindsets that come from it actually harm our views.

During the recent Time100 summit in New York, Netflix co-CEO Ted Sarandos shared his views on the movie theater model, suggesting that the idea of making movies for people to see in theaters is an “outdated concept.” He insisted that the film industry is “trapped” in wanting audiences to watch movies in theaters and should instead “adapt to…[how] audiences want to watch movies.” His insinuation, to nobody’s surprise, is that viewers would prefer to stream movies at home. This, however, makes the mistake of viewing the situation in extremes. Why put the audience into a box and assume that they want to watch movies in a certain way? Is that not a trap in itself? The idea should not be to predict whether or not audiences will want to watch movies in theaters, but to make them want to do so.

Many may argue that attracting audiences to theaters is no longer practical. They may be quick to point out losses endured by movie theaters during the first quarter of 2025, or how chains such as Regal have closed more than a handful of locations in recent years. However, cinema has always been a very unpredictable business; one never knows when it will boom and when it will drop. For example, many of Regal’s theater closings were part of its parent company Cineworld filing for bankruptcy due to the theatrical drought caused by the COVID-19 pandemic, but it soon successfully rebounded from this as people returned to theaters. Some of the closed theaters have even been reopened under new, independent ownership, indicating that the theater business is not going anywhere.

Even the CEO of AMC Entertainment Adam Aron recently dismissed any serious concerns about the future of theaters, calling the chain’s underwhelming first-quarter box office performance “a distorting reality that has already corrected itself.” He is, of course, referring to the recent spate of theatrical blockbusters spearheaded by “A Minecraft Movie” (despite not-so-great reviews) and more crucially, the unprecedented success of “Sinners,” which has performed at levels previously considered unthinkable for its genre. These two films tap into completely different target audiences, both of which evidently appreciate the value of the big-screen experience.

After all, no home entertainment system can live up to the pristine picture quality and booming, immersive surround sound that a movie theater provides, and these are only the beginning of the delights that theaters have to offer. When you sit in a theater and the lights turn off, all you see is what is on the screen. Your attention becomes so much more focused on the film as opposed to the myriad distractions that can come from watching at home. “Larger than life” becomes literal as you witness the images unfold on the massive screen in front of you.

Moreover, the experience becomes bigger than the movie alone. Imagine that you are taking your seat inside a packed theater, full of buzzing moviegoers in eager anticipation of what they are about to witness. For those two or three hours, you will be sharing the same emotions with dozens (if not hundreds) of people whom you have never met. When you laugh, you are joining the theater in an infectious chorus that only amplifies the fun. When you cry, the tears do not run down your cheeks alone; you silently share them with those sitting around you. When an unexpected twist hits, you hear gasps that make you realize how all of you are equally invested and in the same state of tension and vulnerability, as if you are all living through the same experience. When scenes hit close to home, you might find comfort in hearing or even joining vocal reactions from others who can relate to the same moments.

All of this has nothing to do with scale either. Whether watching a big production like “Sinners” or an indie coming-of-age film like “Dídi,” these are the kinds of moments that I have constantly had the fortune of experiencing in packed screenings. Plus, hearing how different people react to scenes gives so much more perspective than what you might have on your own. People might laugh at a joke you do not immediately catch, comment on cultural references that go over your head and more. It makes you a more active and engaged viewer and brings you closer to people, so when you join the audience to erupt into applause during the most gratifying moments, it is truly an experience like no other.

That feeling can never be matched by streaming. Of course, streaming does offer significant benefits; it is a convenient option that makes a wide range of films easily accessible from the comfort of one’s home. However, with the increasingly scattered distribution of films across various streaming services and growing inclusion of mid-movie advertisements, it is proving to be not too different from the days of cable TV, at least in terms of consumer cost. In fact, during the height of the pandemic, debates were rife about whether the rise of direct-to-streaming releases would lead to the end of theaters, as the former seemed like a more affordable, convenient and sustainable option at the time. However, cut to a few years later, and even films which were first commissioned as direct-to-streaming releases — such as Paramount’s “Smile” — have ultimately received wide theatrical releases in order to “maximize” profits. In other words, the audience that believes in the power of the theatrical experience continues to be much larger than skeptics might think.

Market dynamics and viewing patterns have certainly changed post-pandemic, but that does not mean that everyone has migrated to streaming, or that sold-out shows are a thing of the past as Sarandos claims. If that were the case, then we would not be seeing such a resurgence of re-releases. The most recent example would be “Star Wars: Episode III – Revenge of the Sith,” which re-released in April and made $42.2 million at the global box office in a single weekend. The fact that the 2005 film is easily available for streaming on Disney+ has clearly not stopped people from flocking to theaters for the community experience. One might argue that “Star Wars” is merely an exception since it is such an extremely beloved franchise. However, a similar feat was achieved by Christopher Nolan’s “Interstellar” upon its re-release in IMAX last December. Initially intended only as a one-week event, its run was extended in order to meet the massive demand for tickets which led to sold-out shows worldwide. 

The message is clear: with the right movies, people will show up to theaters in droves. If anything, rather than writing theaters off as a thing of the past, the film industry may want to think about more ways to attract people to theaters. For one, Hollywood should consider incorporating intermissions, especially for very long films; this is a near-universal practice in India, for example. Having to sit for three hours at a single stretch can be a tough task that could lead even those who value an immersive experience to prefer the convenience of streaming, where they can pause at will to use the bathroom or grab a snack at any time. Including an intermission could allow viewers to enjoy similar conveniences without missing out on the joys of the theatrical experience.

At the end of the day, people will always crave a meaningful community experience. It is up to studio executives and producers to keep believing in this and support the kind of clutter-breaking stories that will compel audiences to feel that they are best experienced in a theater. After all, a great theatrical experience is nothing less than a celebration. It is a celebration of storytelling, community and the human spirit. Especially during such uncertain times, there is little that could be more valuable than that.

Have you ever walked into a bar and thought, “Man, all I want to do right now is show how much I hate the Jews?”

No? Because in any reasonable society, that should be unthinkable. And yet, on May 3, reportedly, a group of Drexel and Temple students gathered at Barstool in Center City ordered a sign that read: “F*** the Jews.” The waitress, instead of being horrified, proudly danced as she presented the sign, while the students laughed and posted it to Instagram.

In what world is this normal?

I remain in shock. Would it be tolerated if the sign had read “F*** the Blacks?” “F*** the Gays?” “F*** the Latinos?” Of course not. But when it is aimed at Jews, suddenly, it is acceptable.

The owner of Barstool, David Portnoy, is Jewish, and he immediately condemned the incident. He spoke with the Temple student behind it, who reportedly apologized and agreed to visit Auschwitz to better understand the dangers of antisemitism. I hoped the trip would shake him to his core, as it did me.

As I wrote in an op ed entitled “Never Again is Now,” I traveled to Poland with over a hundred college students last year. The trip impacted me so greatly and connected me to my people. I kept a journal throughout with reflections and sketches from the trip, which I recently published titled “My People.” (Drexel students can reach out for a free copy)

On the trip, we stood where millions of Jews were dehumanized, starved and murdered. We touched the cattle cars that transported them. We stepped inside gas chambers and stood by mass graves of Jewish children. It was a wake-up call— “Never Again” is not just a phrase, but a necessity. It taught me that I, as a Jew, need to stand up for myself. I cannot rely on others to save me. 

In the holocaust, so many people became complicit bystanders. Only some brave individuals—“Righteous Among the Nations”—risked their lives to save Jews during the Holocaust. Most people in the Nazi regime simply “followed orders,” watching as their Jewish neighbors were stripped of dignity and life. Today, we face a different kind of bystander: those who shrug off antisemitism, justify it or even laugh at it.

I wanted to believe the Temple student would recognize the gravity of what he did. That he would reflect, understand the harm and change. Instead, he doubled down on hate.

Days later, he appeared on the Stew Peters Network, a neo-Nazi podcast, doubling down on his views. When Peters asked him if humanity should “become tribal against the Jewish community,” he responded, “Absolutely, especially in the case of Americans.”

The Temple student was given a choice: reflect and apologize, or embrace hate. He chose hate. He pledged to stand against the “dirty Jews,” and the host pledged $100,000 worth in his meme coin against Jews in support of his mission. One of the host’s followers—a fellow white supremacist—questioned why so much money was being given to an Arab. The host read the comment aloud, agreed, and admitted that he normally would not support “a brown guy.” Somehow, the Temple student’s hatred of Jews outweighed even the common sense of self-preservation.

Antisemitism unites those who would otherwise be at odds. The phrase ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend’ plays out in real time through moments like this and ‘Gays for Palestine.’ LGBTQ+ individuals support a region that openly persecutes them, while disregarding Israel’s vibrant LGBTQ+ culture. This contradiction underscores a disturbing truth: hatred towards my people can become so blinding that it supersedes rationality, morality and even survival. (National Post)

Many protesters claim they are simply “anti-Zionist,” as this Temple student tried to do. But their words reveal something far deeper. Calling for the erasure of Jewish sovereignty over our ancestral homeland is not about political disagreement. It is about denying Jewish existence and Jewish safety.

Those who justify this as mere “criticism” of Israel need to confront reality. Jewish history, Jewish connection to Israel and the necessity of a Jewish safe-haven are not matters of debate. We have endured centuries of persecution and have finally returned home. 

I have always worn my kippah (head covering) with pride, but in recent years, I have found myself hiding my identity out of concern for my safety. At a recent networking event, I noticed Temple students whispering and glancing in my direction. For a moment, I considered taking it off or even leaving. But in the end, I chose to stay. I refused to let fear dictate my identity. Instead, I stood my ground as a proud Jew, determined to show that antisemitism is not just wrong—it is entirely baseless.

Never again is now. When students go out of their way to promote neo-Nazi views, it is no longer just words. It is a warning.

History has taught us how dangerous warnings can be when ignored. 

According to Peters, “What happened in the bar is a microcosm of humanity… everyone is pretty much like, ‘F*** the Jews.’” When I heard that, my jaw dropped. Is it possible that he is right? Do people feel that way about me and my people? I sincerely hope that he is incorrect. Please prove him wrong. Reach out to your Jewish friends to check on them. Always stand up against hate. Am Yisrael Chai (The Jewish Nation Lives On). 

Forget resumes and LinkedIn profiles — your real first impression is the bag you haul into Wawa at midnight. One walk down Lancaster or a quick stop at Summit, and two favorites dominate the scene: the sleek, navy Longchamp Le Pliage and the slightly battered Trader Joe’s tote. They are less about what you carry and more about what you are quietly broadcasting.

At first glance, they could pass as distant cousins at a crowded family reunion — both durable, both mysteriously able to carry a week’s worth of chaos while still pretending to be “casual.” But make no mistake: these bags are carrying a lot more than your laptop and leftover Chipotle. They are carrying narratives. Because on campus, your tote bag might just be your loudest statement.

In the wild, i.e., the stretch between Millenium and Saxbys, few objects spill the economic tea quite like what you sling over your shoulder. It is not just canvas and straps. It is signaling. Pure, portable signaling.

Enter: Drexel’s two reigning champs of the tote scene. On one end, the sleek navy Longchamp — a $150 whisper that says “I brunch at Sabrina’s and my LinkedIn is a minor deity.” On the other, the Trader Joe’s tote — crumpled, character-filled and quietly screaming, “I’m chill, eco-conscious and yes, I did bring my own cup to Starbucks.”

Let us break it down. The Longchamp is what economists call a costly signal. It is not yelling; it is curating. Think Pinterest-board-turned-purse. It does not just hold things — it holds taste. You can spot it under the elbows of students who look like they were born with co-op offers and who somehow never forget their reusable straw.

The Trader Joe’s tote, meanwhile, is playing a different economic game. It is the thrift-flex. The look-at-me-not-looking-at-you flex. It says, “I care more about carbon footprints than capitalism and I probably thrifted this entire outfit.” And the kicker? It is five bucks. Which somehow makes it cooler. Because, in the right crowd, being above the flex is the ultimate flex.

But here is the catch: both bags are playing the same game. They are signaling identity, status and tribe. One says you summer in the Hamptons (or pretend to), the other says you volunteer at the food co-op (or at least thought about it once). In both cases, the bag is talking before you even say a word.

And this is where social proof sneaks in. One Longchamp becomes two, then twelve and suddenly it is an unofficial uniform. Same with the Trader Joe’s tote. You’re not just carrying groceries — you’re carrying credibility. It is anthropology, but with better fonts.

At a school like Drexel — part business incubator, part liberal arts fever dream — fitting in takes finesse. You’re dropped into a swirl of co-op kids, design majors, finance bros and future TED Talkers. There is no dress code. Just vibes. So you watch. You adapt. You tote.

Because in the chaos of quarter system survival, sometimes the fastest way to say “I belong here” is with the right tote bag.

For a lot of us, Drexel is a huge transition. Maybe you came from a tiny suburban town, or maybe you commuted from a neighborhood where no one cared about “fit pics.” Maybe, like me, you come from a different socioeconomic background, where owning a $150 tote bag seemed absurd. Suddenly, you are surrounded by students whose LinkedIn profiles are shinier than your GPA and who treat spring break trips to Europe like a given, not a flex.

Fashion becomes survival — armor against the cognitive biases that favor the elite.  Tote bags, Sambas, oversized jackets: they are not just trends. They are a silent answer to the question we are all quietly asking: “Do I fit here?” And sometimes, they are the silent hope that one day, the answer will feel like an automatic yes. There is, unsurprisingly, a lot of psychology behind fashion. I like to tell myself that I want a Longchamp because it is cute (and it is). But deep down, there is more to it.

At the end of the day, whether you are team Longchamp, team Trader Joe’s or team “whatever fits my charger and bad decisions,” your choice is rarely just about utility.  It is about signaling the version of yourself you want to project. It is about social proof and the very human urge to belong, especially in environments that can feel overwhelming and new. 

So next time you spot another Longchamp or Trader Joe’s bag breezing past you on the Korman, remember: nobody is just hauling textbooks. They are carrying economic strategies. Psychological biases. And a perfectly curated version of themselves. Totes tell.