When I first saw the trailer for “Civil War,” I made my conclusions about the content of the film like many other people. I pretty much assumed that the film would center around a conservative, Trump-esque figure who leads America towards societal decline. I expected a mention of a Jan. 6-like event that triggered the current war in the film, and for the sides of the conflict to be clear cut and on the nose. And trust me, if that was the movie Garland gave us, then I would have loved it. 

But closer to the film’s release date, A24 released a map outlining the breakdown of alliances in the film’s fictional United States. It revealed that in the film, California and Texas had formed an alliance known as the Western Forces. From that, I knew that this film wasn’t going to be what I was expecting. Once “Civil War” was released and the reviews began to roll in, my suspicions about this film were further confirmed. 

But still, I went to the theater with an open mind and heart, ready to see another film from the mind behind ‘Ex Machina’ and ‘28 Days Later.’ And after sitting on this movie for a few days, I can say that “Civil War” wasn’t what audiences wanted, but it’s what we needed. And that’s because “Civil War” seeks to vindicate no one.

Garland’s fictional United States is, in fact, fictional. Again, California and Texas are allies in the film, which is something that seems less likely to happen in real life than pigs flying. But in the world Garland has created, it’s possible for this alliance to happen. Yet still, for those caught up with realism, Garland invites the viewer to fill in the “gaps” of this story by giving the audience little context. Based on the costuming of the Western Forces soldiers, you can see that this alliance is moreso among the people of California and Texas, rather than their governments. This choice doesn’t give audiences what they wanted to see: a realistic battle between a conservative and liberal state over the fundamental values they each stand on. 

Garland’s fictional civil war is not only seemingly far from reality, but it’s clouded in ambiguity. Garland offers no political motive for either side of this war, nor does he offer any context for what started the war. In fact, the only thing we do know is that there are sides. While watching the film, this felt somewhat unsatisfying. Like any other person, my brain craves this traditional structure. It needs for there to be sides with clear motives. It needs for there to be good versus evil, and it needs that good to prevail over evil. It needs these things to be able to understand the subject matter of a film like “Civil War.”

Garland’s film does not concede to the viewer’s expectations. Instead, he offers us small crumbs of context that beg the audience to paint a bigger picture for themselves. For instance, one of Joel’s (played by Wagner Moura) interview questions for the President of the United States is whether or not he regretted ordering airstrikes against civilians. In addition to this, the film’s protagonists run into conflict with several people along the way to D.C., and the map given by A24 provides us with a bit of context for where these major conflicts occur, and whether or not the people in the places reside in states that are loyal to the United States.

With this in mind, it makes sense that the reviews for the film are mixed. People like realism, and we like for our expectations to be fulfilled. And with the amount of anticipation around this movie, leaving our expectations unmet feels even more unsatisfying. Regardless of this, what made “Civil War” great to me was the fact that it didn’t give me what I wanted. 

This film’s lack of political agenda gives it the opportunity to speak across audiences about the atrocious, destructive reality of war. This is the film that people need to see right now, as it is not one that validates the fears of one side of the political spectrum while simultaneously alienating the other side from the true message of the film. This film’s message was never meant to be about how dangerous conservatives are to democracy. It’s about how in the end, if we allow an authoritative leader to lead us down the path of civil war, we all lose. And ultimately, the motives of war get lost and overshadowed by the mutual destruction faced by both sides.

The neutrality of “Civil War” also does justice to its subjects: journalists. Journalists are meant to be neutral purveyors of truth who document the story as it happened. The film is nearly perfect at remaining apolitical, just as journalists are nearly perfect at doing the same. And similarly to journalists, there are moments in “Civil War” where the film does slip up and reveals the slightest bit of its own politics. But overall, the film does a great job of really diving into the psyches of journalists. I’d even say that this film becomes a kind of journalist in itself, doing whatever it takes, even displaying very graphic and uncomfortable imagery, to give its audience the truth about the brutality of war.

You are a sucker for open communication, and you probably were giggling and kicking your feet while watching “The Hunger Games: the Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes.” You also can’t tell if you’re actually attracted to Tom Blyth or if you’re just attracted to young President Snow.  Your friends are slightly concerned about the way you excuse fascism when the fascist in question has a blonde buzzcut. They also think you have bad taste in men, but they just don’t get it because you’re operating on a higher plane than them!!

Josh Hutcherson (October/Early-November)

He may be a little old-fashioned and out of date, but he’s yours!! You stick to the classics, and you love a comeback. You like to rewatch the same shows and movies over and over because they’re comforting and familiar. Most likely, you rewatched the entire “Hunger Games” series in October. You probably also had a “Five Nights at Freddy’s” phase in middle school and saw the movie to connect to your inner-child. But you also long to go to the past a little too much. 

Jacob Elordi (November/Early-December)

This one depends on which Jacob Elordi character awakened your parasocial relationship with him. If you found yourself attracted to him in “Euphoria” or “Priscilla,” I’m worried for you? If you’re a “Kissing Booth” stan, you probably are twelve and cried yourself to sleep when he said he hated filming those movies. And if you didn’t see the vision until you watched “Saltburn,” well you’re a bit hard to understand but you’ve got taste!

Corey Mylchreest (May)

You are a mom or over the age of 35. You probably found yourself down a rabbit-hole of Queen Charlotte promotional interviews and became deeply invested in whatever was going on between him and India Amarteifio.

The 20 minutes between Apollo and SZA’s sets turned into something of a pre-concert party as the audience started dancing and singing along to a SZA-curated pre-show playlist that included music from Ice Spice and Glorilla. Anticipation and excitement grew with each second that passed, and when the lights finally went down the crowd roared. 

The venue was completely dark, the only visible light coming from the thousands of phones ready to record the opening track — quite a dystopian scene. SZA’s “SOS” morse code began to boom from the speakers as a wave of blue and white lights rolled over the crowd. The sounds of waves crashing together could be heard as SZA began to sing her unreleased song “PSA.” SZA’s set was wonderfully thematic with the nautical concept that carried the audience through the show. It consisted of four acts with all of SZA’s “SOS” hits, including “Shirt,” “Low” and “The Weekend.” SZA closed her show with a “Good Days” encore as she sat on a diving board in a vibrant yellow gown.

Aside from that, I’ll be honest — SZA must have put all of us under a spell because I cannot remember anything else about this concert. That’s not to say that the performance was easily forgettable. But as soon as SZA stepped on stage, a kind of shock took over me that put me into autopilot. While attempting to write this article, I asked my friend who came to the concert with me if she remembered anything from the show. To my surprise, and slight relief, she also said she was having trouble remembering the entirety of the show. As I continued with my struggle to write this piece I started researching the cause for this memory-loss, and apparently this is a symptom of Post-Concert Depression (PCD). While PCD doesn’t have an official diagnosis, it is a very real experience for many concert-goers and can cause feelings of sadness, loss of motivation and memory-loss. The memory-loss comes about as a result of feeling like something that was once a center-point of joy is now a distant memory. Additionally, there is a high rush of adrenaline during concerts, which can cause concert-goers to disassociate from the events taking place around them — similarly to my friend and I’s situation. Nevertheless, I still wanted to publish this piece because we need to normalize having post-concert amnesia.

Rihanna, standing on a platform hanging sixty feet in the air, opened her thirteen-minute set with her 2015 song “Bitch Better Have My Money” in a striking red clothing ensemble. This was much to the delight of her fans who expressed concerns on social media that she may open with her newest single “Lift Me Up.” She then seamlessly transitioned into a mash-up of “Where Have You Been,” “Only Girl (In the World),” and “We Found Love.” 

Next, and my personal favorite part, was a Brazilian Funk Remix of her hit “Rude Boy” that was sure to make you wish you were at a club instead of on your couch. The “Rude Boy” remix also brought the first big choreography section of Rihanna’s set, though it had been preceded by some truly stunning visuals, courtesy of a barrage of dancers clad in white puffer-jackets. Rihanna then brought a calmer side to her set with stripped versions of “Work” and “Wild Thoughts,” before transitioning into a remix of her songs “Birthday Cake,” “Pour It Up,” and “Numb.” Following a skillful product placement of her Fenty Beauty makeup line, Rihanna had an “old but gold” moment with “All of the Lights,” “Run This Town,” and her iconic 2007 hit “Umbrella.” Finally, she wrapped herself in a full-length red puffer — a tribute to her late friend and fashion editor Andre Leon Talley — and gave an intimate closing performance with her smash-hit “Diamonds.”

It’s safe to say that Rihanna’s performance broke the internet almost as soon as she closed her set. Social media erupted with a range of reactions, some of them critical, some of them full of praise, and some of them speculative of whether or not Rihanna is pregnant again (spoiler alert: she is).  On one side of the internet, many were in awe of the performance. Viewers praised her set-list, wardrobe, production design and were overall happy to see Rihanna onstage again. Like myself, many felt that the performance was like a trip down memory lane, as Rihanna took us through her greatest hits. Across social media platforms, the back-up dancers and sign language interpreter Justina Miles were also praised.

Just as many internet-users expressed that they were disappointed with the performance overall. Many of the songs performed in the set included features of other artists, including Drake, Jay-Z and DJ Khalid. But Rihanna decided to perform solo for every track, which was to the dismay of many who expected her to have at least one guest performance. In addition to not having any guest performers, the set also omitted some notable hits such as “Pon De Replay,” “S&M,” and “What’s My Name.” I must say that even my friends and I felt that the “S&M” tease during “We Found Love” was slightly cruel. Rihanna’s decision to forego the element of spectacle that previous halftime performers have utilized was also under scrutiny. 

I found the critical reception to be unwarranted, considering that Rihanna’s performance was objectively good. If an artist gave a performance of that caliber at their own concert, it would be lauded all over the internet. But America has such high standards for halftime shows that even a performance as good as Rihanna’s can be put on the chopping block. The New Yorker called the performance an “anti-spectacle,” but I disagree. Rihanna and the NFL knew the full extent of the cultural significance of Rihanna being the halftime headliner. The fact that Rihanna took the stage for the first time in seven years was a spectacle in and of itself. 

The performance didn’t need to be an exorbitant display in order to be impactful. Rihanna kept her performance minimal with steady vocals, high energy, and outstanding musical composition while also maintaining elements of an extravagant performance. I also think that the criticism is neglecting the fact that Rihanna is pregnant and what that means in relation to stamina and endurance. Pregnancy takes a significant toll on the body. In fact, in a study published in the journal Science Advances, researchers discovered that pregnant women reach the same levels of endurance as extreme athletes but at lower-intensity rates. And while this extra exertion of energy does result in a lack of stamina, this wasn’t reflected in Rihanna’s performance. 

Of course there is much to be said about the remaining criticism of the performance: her set, the length of the performance, the lack of artist collaborations. Overall, I think that the criticism of this performance just speaks to a mindset of women in entertainment owing the public their constantly reinventing themselves and bringing something new to the table with each performance. For example, Justin Timberlake’s 2018 halftime performance was not particularly extravagant, but it hasn’t faced nearly as much criticism as Rihanna’s performance. To those sentiments I say: Rihanna doesn’t owe us anything. For me, the performance was like a journey through my life. I was able to trace each song that Rihanna performed to a specific defining phase of my life. As I and the rest of this generation grew up, Rihanna and her music were always there in the background – on our car radios, on our party rotations, on our overly curated Spotify playlists. The fact that Rihanna did a full set of her greatest hits and still had enough hits for an entirely different set just shows how much she’s given us over the course of her career. Rihanna doesn’t owe us more than what she gave us, and she gave us a lot. I think this is a moment when America needs to redefine what qualifies as a good halftime performance. Because if suspending yourself in the air on a platform as fireworks go off above your head doesn’t qualify as a good halftime performance, then what does?

This year’s midterm results in Uvalde and Broward were especially revealing because they reflected the country’s division over addressing gun violence. In the November 2022 Texas gubernatorial election, Uvalde County overwhelmingly voted in favor of Republican candidate Greg Abbott. Not only is Abbott vehemently against all forms of gun control, but he also expanded access to firearms by legalizing permitless carry. Meanwhile, voters in Broward were strongly in favor of gubernatorial candidate Charlie Crist, a Democrat who has been vocal about his support for stricter gun laws (it’s important to note that incumbent Ron Desantis ultimately defeated Crist at the state-wide level). 

Like many Americans, I was shocked when the numbers in Uvalde came back in favor of Abbott. It would make sense that citizens in Uvalde would vote for a candidate like Beto O’Rourke after the tragedy they witnessed this past Spring. Why didn’t Uvalde vote for the “gun sense” candidate like Broward did? Perhaps Uvalde citizens didn’t prioritize gun violence over other issues like abortion and the state economy. 

It’s easy to say that the tragedy at Robb Elementary wasn’t enough to change the direction of the electorate in Uvalde, but I don’t believe that this is the case. While conducting research for this article, I found it much harder to find voting resources for Uvalde than for Broward. Broward provides concrete information about municipal elections and precinct access, as well as information about redistricting and election day procedures. 

Uvalde on the other hand doesn’t even provide updated numbers on voter registration. The accessibility of election information appears to make a difference in voter turnout given that a higher percentage of registered voters vote on election day in Broward than in Uvalde. The fact that it was so hard to find election information for Uvalde compared to Broward proved to me that political leaders want to make voting as hard as possible for Uvalde citizens.

At first glance, comparing Broward to Uvalde seems fair. But when you look deeper, it’s clear that they can’t be held to the same standards because of the role of race in these societies. Broward is over 60% white and Uvalde is nearly 80% Hispanic/Latino – Uvalde’s elected officials do not represent the racial makeup of the county. This has created what Uvalde natives describe as a racial hierarchy. 

After the incident in May, former Uvalde resident Neil Meyer wrote about this dynamic in the Washington Post. Meyer stated that the white minority in Uvalde places its love of right-wing ideologies over the safety and needs of the Hispanic community. He wrote that Robb Elementary – which is 90% Hispanic and 81% economically disadvantaged – has been at the center of “the struggle in Uvalde over the past half-century to desegregate its schools,” and that he knew the victims would be largely Hispanic when the news broke about where the shooting took place. The majority of Uvalde is Hispanic/Latino, and the majority of Hispanic/Latino citizens generally feel that Democrats care about them more than Republicans. Based on this, Uvalde should be voting in favor of Democrats like Beto O’Rourke and subsequently voting for gun-sense candidates. But Uvalde’s leaders wish to maintain the racial hierarchy because it allows them to stay in power. So they limit access to voting information and resources in order to make voting harder for citizens. Ultimately, this has led to Uvalde voting in favor of Republicans and against gun-sense. 

Broward has homogeneity in its population and its elected officials, and this saves the town from having the same problem that Uvalde has. There isn’t a racial hierarchy between the government and citizens like there is in Uvalde. And the interest of Broward’s white majority is not a threat to its predominately white leadership. As a result, voting in Broward is generally easier than it is in Uvalde because voting information and resources are made accessible by people in power. Voter participation and turnout are naturally increased when barriers to voting are eliminated, and higher voter turnout tends to tip key races in the direction of Democrats and gun-sense candidates.

Broward County and Uvalde County are not split on this issue because one city cares more about the tragedy it faced. Citizens in both towns clearly care about what happened in their communities. They are split on the issue because they don’t share the same challenges. The only thing these communities have in common is that they both were scenes of mass gun violence. Other than that commonality, Broward and Uvalde are different in every other way so we should expect the results of their elections to reflect that difference. Until the racial hierarchy in Uvalde subsides, access to voting information will remain challenging and Uvalde will continue to not vote in favor of gun-sense candidates. 

When I came to Wellesley College, I wasn’t under the impression that the environment would be the same as the one I grew up in. I expected a wide distribution of wealth and backgrounds. After all, the promise of diversity has been presented to my classmates and me from the moment we were admitted. According to the “Diversity and Inclusion” page on the College website, nearly 60% of students at Wellesley College receive financial aid. For me, that figure was not only comforting but also a key factor in my decision to choose Wellesley College. After two months here, I have to say that Wellesley is very socioeconomically diverse. But the broad spectrum of wealth on campus creates a culture divide between students. That’s how I came to the realization that there are two Wellesley Colleges within the institution as a whole.

I began to notice this during orientation week – an already difficult time of trying to navigate a new place and new people. During that first week, I found myself struggling to connect with a lot of the people around me for a reason I couldn’t pinpoint. But retrospectively, the reason why that week was so hard is very clear. There was, and still is, a common factor that determined the extent of the connections I made with people on campus: wealth. 

Of course, I would never intentionally write people off because they’re more or less wealthy than I am. But it’s a matter of relatability. Because I’m not wealthy, the experiences I’ve had differ from my peers who are wealthy – and this applies in the reverse as well. There’s a fundamental disconnect between those of us that aren’t economically advantaged and those who are. The fact that our experiences and backgrounds are so different makes it difficult for strong bonds to be made across the wealth spectrum.

“I’ve surrounded myself with people that have very similar backgrounds as me, and my circle is mostly first-generation and low-income students,” commented Stefany Jimenez ’26, who says that the separation is a matter of comfort for her. “Every time I’ve spoken to someone from a higher income bracket or just has an economic privilege that I don’t, it becomes uncomfortable in a way, and sometimes I don’t feel inclined to develop those friendships further because I know we don’t have that similarity.”

For me, the importance of wealth in interpersonal relationships on campus was somewhat shocking considering that Wellesley College is known for being very progressive. Emily Cao ’26 described the dynamic as “two camps” that, understandably, have difficulty relating to each other. When asked to go into detail about her stance she said, “There’s one with the people like me who came from a privileged background and then one with people who had a less privileged background.” Cao attributes the divide to the priorities of the two spheres. 

While she has a job on campus this semester, she stated that the money she makes is spending money. But Cao said this isn’t the case for some of the other students who work with her. As a result of the weekly five-hour work maximum, students work multiple jobs in order to support themselves, making it hard for those students to prioritize academics. “I feel like my main priority is academics and I don’t have to worry about if I have enough money to last me the semester or anything like that,” Cao added.

There are students on this campus on full financial aid, constantly under the pressure of having no choice but to be above and beyond in everything they do. They are sacrificing aspects of their social life in order to keep up with school work, and further balancing their academic performance with the jobs they work to support themselves. Then there are students who, because they don’t have to worry about the financial aspect of their life, have far more choice in their college experience. They can choose to go out on Friday nights instead of studying without feeling guilty. Or they can fully focus their energy into their academic success because they don’t have to work full-time for a living wage. 

Even wealthy students with jobs on and off campus have a privilege over some of their peers because if they need to they can take the day off for schoolwork without worrying about how it will affect the size of their paycheck. This gives these students an advantage in succeeding on this campus, even though the pressure to succeed isn’t as high because they have the safety net of wealth. 

Going back to the idea of relatability as mentioned earlier: How are these two spheres, who live so differently, supposed to relate to each other? They don’t. The wealthy flock together because their lifestyles align, and the same applies to the economically underprivileged. It isn’t my intention to place blame onto either of these groups for the disconnect. But if we, as a campus, become more cognizant of this issue we can narrow the divide. Instead of placing ourselves in situations where we feel comfortable, we should allow ourselves to be in situations where we might feel uncomfortable. This means trying to understand our differences and recognizing how valuable it is to form friendships with students of diverse backgrounds. By forming friendships across the spectrum of wealth, we can promote a culture on campus that is overall more accepting and inviting to students of all backgrounds.