Wellesley was among the 60 institutions warned by the US Department of Education of potential enforcement actions, including federal funding cuts if they were found failing to protect Jewish students. Instead of specifically addressing antisemitism on campuses, however, the federal government’s politicized use of Title IV presents a coercive ultimatum that grants the administration unprecedented control over higher education.

To combat the overreach, many of the Big Ten schools, the most prominent Division 1 conference housing the country’s largest institutions, have teamed up and signed a NATO-like pact of mutual defense. If the Trump administration were to attack any of the member universities and deny federal support, the others would pool their funds and resources to ensure their academic programs live on.

This unified approach to resisting federal overreach not only safeguards academic freedom but also sends a powerful message of institutional solidarity. In light of Trump’s war on progressive education, Wellesley’s place among the schools being investigated, its liberal arts mission, and historically women’s status make it especially vulnerable to federal attack. 

Now more than ever, Wellesley should align itself with peer institutions in both word and action—defending the integrity of its academic values and the rights of its students against politically motivated interference.

To start with, Wellesley and the Seven Sisters consortium—including Smith, Mount Holyoke, Barnard, Bryn Mawr, and formerly Vassar—could follow in the footsteps of the Big Ten schools. An alliance among historically women’s colleges would help all members  since it could take into account the nuances of being a historically women’s college under the Trump administration, which poses prominent legal challenges that other institutions may not contend with.

Historically women’s colleges are protected in large part due to their private status, which exempts them from the Equal Protection Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment. As a result, they can maintain gendered admission policies without facing legal challenges. The Trump administration has not yet issued a direct threat to women’s colleges as a category, but its Title IX rollbacks, redefinitions of “sex,” and support for exempting religious institutions from anti-discrimination policies have created a more legally uncertain environment—particularly for schools that are inclusive of trans and non-binary students. This shifting legal landscape underscores the urgency for historically women’s colleges to defend their educational mission in the face of potential erosion.

Beyond the safety it would offer its members, a Seven Sisters pact would send shockwaves through the landscape of higher education. It would continue to redefine what institutional resistance looks like—not as isolated press releases, but as an organized, value-driven front. At a time when many colleges are backing away from their commitments to equity and inclusion under political pressure, the Seven Sisters have the opportunity to set a national precedent: the defense of academic freedom, marginalized students, and inclusive education is not only possible, but essential.

More broadly, this alliance could reestablish the role of liberal arts colleges as moral leaders in higher education. In resisting not just for themselves but for the principle of education uncoerced by political agendas, the Seven Sisters could galvanize other less populated institutions—especially those that feel powerless or peripheral—to act in concert. A united front  among these historically women’s colleges could be a tipping point, proving that meaningful resistance to state interference is not the purview of the Ivy League alone.

Wellesley has the history, the credibility, and the responsibility to take the lead. By championing a Seven Sisters compact, it can model what bold, coordinated defiance looks like in a time when so many are shrinking from the fight. Higher education—and democracy itself—depends on institutions willing to speak truth to power, even when the cost is high. Now is the time for Wellesley to stand among these leaders—championing collective resistance, affirming its values, and demonstrating that the defense of higher education and democracy requires courage, conviction, and action.

Humanities majors have historically received Latin distinctions more often than science majors, not to say there is a causal relationship between one’s major and academic rigor. Still, I acknowledge the underlying ways I may approach Latin honors from a position of privilege. As a result, I would likely benefit from the current system in a way that is disproportionate to a student of a different major or STEM degree as opposed to a humanities one. 

Recent conversations among faculty about altering the Latin honors system have cast doubt on its durability due precisely to this imbalance — the upward trend in award recipients may be corroding the distinction’s social weight, and disparities in awardee volume by department call into question the generalizability of Wellesley’s academic rigor.

Over the past several years, the number of students receiving Latin honors has increased significantly. This growth may be attributed to Wellesley’s removal of its grade deflation policy, which remained in place from 2004 until Fall 2019. The policy stated that classes should have an average grade no higher than a B+, encouraging teachers to keep a 4.0 GPA out of reach for most students. Logically, allowing only a select few to earn an A in each class led to a small, elite group being eligible for Latin honors, especially summa cum laude, which demands a GPA of 3.90 or above. In this period of grade deflation, the Latin honors system worked as intended: only the best and brightest Wellesley students (as measured by grades) obtained the highly coveted distinctions. It perpetuated an environment of academic elitism, and the minimal attainability of awards likely encouraged student competitiveness more than the current grading system, which allows more students to reach the pinnacle of Wellesley honors.

As more students achieved the elusive 3.60 or above GPA in the years following 2019, the social weight of Latin honors changed significantly due to their increased commonality. The elite associations with the distinctions are, of course, still pervasive at Wellesley, but less than they were a decade ago. This erosion of prestige defeats a large extent of the system’s purpose but does not fundamentally award individual students’ work either. Latin honors indicate how much students achieve compared to each other and as deemed by faculty. Thus, the honors dissemination reflects Wellesley’s institutional grading practices and students’ efforts. The two factors cannot be disentangled in any conceivable award system because a benchmark is necessary to identify those who excel beyond it. In this context, reinstating the esteem of Latin honors poses a simple path to remedying the current system: decreasing the volume of distinction recipients by making GPA award benchmarks higher, implementing a stricter grading policy, or any institutional alterations that lessen students’ impact on their distinction eligibility.

However, another problem presented by a return to recognizing only the very “best and brightest” is the lack of proper standardization for who fits the bill. Evidenced by the disparities in the number of honors recipients by major — specifically between STEM and humanities concentrations — not all disciplines are created equal. I do not mean that certain majors are definitively more challenging than others, only that numerous factors may contribute to this disparity in awardees: differences in teacher standards across disciplines, reconciling two grades in lab courses, in-class hours vs. outside-of-class work hours. Nonetheless, the imbalance between majors points to the existence of a variable academic experience among Wellesley students. Thus, a system based on the assumption that all fields are comparable only exacerbates the divide between disciplines. Taking into consideration the ethical problem of making institutional factors more prominent to preserve the system’s prestige, I believe the Latin honors system is indeed undurable.

To create a more equitable system, the current Latin honors framework should be reconsidered, considering both the varied academic experiences of students across disciplines and the increasing commonality of these honors. The growing prevalence of the distinctions, while fostering academic ambition, may also dilute the recognition of true excellence. Striking a balance between celebrating individual achievement and maintaining fairness across different fields of study is critical — an honors system should both preserve its prestige and ensure that the distinctions are meaningful, reflecting the rigor and dedication required in all areas of study. A replacement of the current system could allow for departmental determination of the benchmark for receiving honors, such as the required GPA. In doing so, distinctions would more accurately award students for academic excellence by taking into consideration the context of their major’s grade distribution. Ultimately, an ideal system would celebrate academic success without reinforcing disparities between disciplines, encouraging all students to thrive regardless of their chosen path.

One pertinent email reached students in 2025 and only because of the direct consequences we might face following the recent strike authorization vote. In this correspondence, the College vowed to prioritize protecting the academic experience in the event of a strike, but, besides this platitude, provided no material information regarding the state of the bargaining process.

Maintaining separation between the Union and student body via this knowledge barrier allows administrators to continue putting a bandaid on the College’s open wound; students, arguably one of the most powerful checks on administrative action, are unable to enforce its accountability to Union demands.

This power dynamic, however, would shift dramatically away from the College if a strike were to be called. On February 21, the Union announced the results of their vote, with an overwhelming majority of 93% in favor of authorizing the implementation of a strike if deemed necessary by the bargaining committee.

This act effectively increased the pressure on the Administration to respond to the demands of WOAW or face the consequences of a disrupted student body and, by extension, a larger community of alums, parents, and other — tenure-track — faculty. The College, however, continues to reject Union proposals on key issues such as dependent care, foreign national employees, tax assistance and child care benefits, while increasing the already egregious teaching load of non-tenure track professors by 25%.

Evidently, the threat of a walkout is insufficient to force the Administration’s hand. As a result of this, I am firmly in favor of commencing a Union strike. Such a statement might seem drastic coming from a first-year still adjusting to life at Wellesley, but it is more so evidence that the challenges faced by the Union matter deeply to the student body, even its newest members.

The Wellesley community has always been strongest when it stands together; solidarity with the potential strike is an opportunity for students to acknowledge the decades-long sacrifices made by non-tenure track faculty and to fight to preserve the long-term well-being of the college. A momentary interruption to classes is a small sacrifice, and one that I believe students are largely comfortable with, to achieve fair compensation and working conditions for our professors.

The leveraging power of the potential strike resides in the vastness of WOAW; composed of over 125 non-tenure track and postdoctoral scholars, the Union constitutes approximately 28% of all Wellesley faculty. Despite assurances that the College would “minimize disruptions and ensure the continuity of [its] academic program,” it is highly infeasible that these disruptions would indeed be minor. With more than a quarter of the academic faculty gone, a costly contingency plan would be necessary to cover the immense number of classes taught by Union faculty members. Hiring guest lecturers, hosting online courses and employing adjunct professors are a few ways gaps could be covered in the short term, but maintaining this patchwork solution would be unsustainable due to its monetary costs and organizational complexity.

In addition, the disparities in educational quality between these methods would undoubtedly cause student concern, sowing distrust of the College’s Administration among students. Ultimately, both the strike and the College’s current response tactics would place students in a precarious position — but there would be no escaping community backlash against Administration. I am hopeful and confident that this unified front would force the Administration to make direct concessions to the Union’s demands.

The situation unfolding between the Wellesley Administration and the WOAW Union presents a pivotal moment for our community. The Administration’s lack of transparency and communication regarding the ongoing negotiations has created a significant knowledge gap, leaving students in the dark about the real challenges facing non-tenure track faculty. As we witness the Union’s overwhelming vote in favor of strike authorization, it’s clear that this issue cannot be ignored any longer.

A strike, while disruptive in the short-term, would serve as a necessary step to remind the Administration of the deep value non-tenure faculty bring to the academic experience, and encourage enduring change. The strength of the Wellesley community has always been in its solidarity, and now, more than ever, it is crucial that students stand alongside their non-tenure track professors in support of fairness and equity — in support of a strike.

Contact the editor(s) responsible for this story: Caitlin Donovan

TikTok was reportedly made re-available in the United States due to “President Trump’s efforts” — Trump being only president-elect at the time of this message — a subtle and premature seizure of social power. The whole proceeding reeks of a thinly veiled tactic for Trump to garner youth support and solidify his control over the media. He also added TikTok’s CEO, Shou Zi Chew, to the front row of supporters in his inauguration crowd, among other industry staples.

There is a clear danger in this politically-motivated appeal to a younger, highly impressionable crowd, but politicians puppeteering mass media poses a more pressing concern. The involvement of political figures on these platforms is not unique to TikTok’s current situation — social media has always been a prominent forum for campaigns. However, the new danger posed by the partnership between Chew and Trump lies in its comprehensiveness.

Trump is no longer using the social media site to produce original videos and further his campaign goals; he may now be in a position to censor the totality of what content will be available to the American public. If such a complete information monopoly is granted to Trump, or anyone for that matter, we face a threat to free speech.

While no concrete findings have directly linked Trump and censorship, it is widely noted that content moderation may already be occurring. Most prominently, users have reported limited search results and the removal of comments using phrases that were allowed before the app’s brief darkness — including words related to current activism movements and political discourse, like “Free Palestine.” Regardless of its relation to Trump, this content moderation is deeply concerning, as it casts a shadow over the essence of free expression that social media platforms like TikTok are intended to promote.

If any one entity gains the power to suppress certain viewpoints while amplifying others, the democratic foundation of the United States is undermined. The manipulation of content not only affects the type of information available to the public, but it also stifles the diversity of thought that is vital for healthy political discourse.

Moreover, this isn’t just a matter of Trump wielding his influence over TikTok; it’s about the broader implications for the future of social media platforms. Once the precedent is set that the government can dictate what content stays or goes, the slippery slope becomes difficult to reverse. The ability to filter or censor content in the name of national security or political correctness can quickly morph into a tool for silencing dissent or suppressing movements that challenge the status quo.

What makes this issue even more troubling is the relative lack of transparency that surrounds social media algorithms and moderation policies. The processes by which content is removed or manipulated are not always transparent to users, making it even harder to hold those in charge accountable. When it isn’t even explicit who’s calling the shots behind the scenes, it becomes nearly impossible for the public to understand the scope of censorship, let alone protest it effectively.

Thus, while the reinstatement of TikTok under Trump’s influence may seem like a minor political victory at first glance, it signals a much larger issue. If we are to safeguard our democratic ideals, we must ensure that no one, president or corporation, has the unchecked power to control the flow of information, manipulate the content we see or determine the narrative of public discourse.

Our right to free speech is not just a constitutional guarantee, but also the cornerstone of the open exchange of ideas upon which our society stands. Without it, the very foundation of democracy is at risk.

The disparity between the actions of higher-ups and students’ desires is evidenced by the school’s persistent failure to utilize gender-neutral language — in place of solely female identifiers — on its marketing materials, website and school-wide communications, much to the chagrin of many students, who have shown their overwhelming support for the presence and recognition of trans and non-binary communities on campus for several years.

In recent semesters, further incongruence of Wellesley’s leadership with the priorities of its students has bled dangerously into its academic policies, specifically regarding the language departments, like East Asian Languages and Cultures (EALC). Despite the increasing demand for Korean language courses, the looming contract termination of the department’s beloved Professor Eun Ha Hwang, the Korean Language Table sponsor and enthusiastic Korean Student Association (KSA) supporter, was made evident to students upon returning for the spring semester.

The gradual reduction of funding for language studies has sparked past unease among students, but the college’s decision to drastically reduce the Korean department through the dismissal of Professor Hwang has catalyzed student advocacy efforts in full force. After twenty years of hard work building the department from the ground up, the efforts of EALC faculty would be undermined if Wellesley’s decision is carried out.

The KSA has circulated a petition calling for the reinstatement of Professor Hwang as a matter of preserving not only the Korean department, in which she is one of three professors, but the future of language studies at Wellesley as a whole. The petition succinctly summarizes the implications of Hwang’s termination on the ethos of Wellesley’s academics: “The loss of Professor Hwang would set a dangerous precedent — that Wellesley can undervalue and dismantle non-STEM disciplines at will, disregarding the crucial role these fields play in fostering global awareness, empathy and cultural understanding.”

As an avid language student — double majoring in English and Spanish — I wholeheartedly agree with this evaluation; language and culture programs are essential to fostering the global connections required for truly impactful societal advancement. Wellesley’s mission is “to provide an excellent liberal arts education to women who will make a difference in the world,” the foundation of which resides in a well-rounded education in the arts, sciences and social sciences.

Wellesley’s status as a liberal arts institution is one of its main points of pride, yet the integrity of this mission is threatened by the termination of Hwang, and, consequently, the possible dismantling of the Korean department due to a lack of faculty. In the context of Wellesley’s ever-expanding STEM resources and recently reimagined Science Center, decreasing the options for students in the languages further demonstrates an emphasis on the sciences and social sciences over the humanities, misaligning the school’s offerings with the intentions of its liberal arts origin.

The potential termination of Hwang, and the subsequent jeopardization of the Korean department, is a pivotal moment that demands a response from all who believe in the power of education to transcend borders and foster meaningful connections across cultures.

As students of Wellesley, we have a responsibility to stand united in our advocacy for the preservation and expansion of all academic disciplines, including language and cultural studies. We cannot afford to let the college narrow its focus at the expense of a well-rounded education that values both the humanities and the sciences. 

Whether you are a language student or not, your voice matters in this conversation. By signing petitions and providing personal statements regarding Hwang’s significance to the student body we can collectively remind the college of its mission — to educate leaders who will make a difference in the world. Let us continue the tradition of student advocacy at Wellesley, ensuring that future generations of students have access to the diverse and rich academic experiences that make our community unique.

As much as we joke about living in a Wellesley “bubble,” such an isolated existence truly does exist when it comes to politics. A recent Wellesley News poll found that nearly 90% of students voted for Harris, clearly illustrating the campus’ staggeringly blue majority. Consequently, it is easy to believe that most Americans hold the same beliefs as us because we are constantly reinforced by a campus of students who do. In the week leading up to the election, there was a pervasive hope so tangible that it seemed counterintuitive for Kamala to lose. How could she when our school championed her candidacy so strongly? Surely the rest of Massachusetts would agree and, even if it was marginally close, so too would America. Only in retrospect can I see the error of these ideas; my consumption of political one-sidedness led to a disastrous oversight on where the rest of the country, and even my home state of Arizona, stood; in the end, they both came up Republican.

The Wellesley “bubble” is a beautiful place to purposefully engage with like-minded individuals in order to catalyze social change, but it is not reflective of the world beyond campus. This is a harsh reality we must reckon with to stay politically informed, and, much more importantly, engaged. Complacency due a perceived political unity poses a threat to democracy when citizens fail, or are unable, to participate in the election process. Awareness of the country’s enduring party split is essential in reminding those disengaged that their vote and voice matters; there is no democracy if half the country doesn’t participate. The revival of a Republican student organization on campus is one way in which productive political discourse could be encouraged. Perhaps debates about prevalent topics could be held between the Republican and Democratic groups, leading students of both parties to engage with the others’ views. Individually, we can also make an active effort to consume media from all sides of politics, such as podcasts that cover both Democratic and Republican current events, publications by a party we may not personally align with, or discussions between politicians of opposing viewpoints. Both of these initiatives would ensure that the Wellesley “bubble” doesn’t remove us too far from the reality of America’s political climate by reintroducing the presence of Republican ideals. Although engaging with these ideas could be argued as legitimizing them, which some Ddemocrats likely wish to avoid, political discourse is an opportunity to evaluate the extent to which ideological beliefs are rooted in logical justifications. Engaging with opposing viewpoints not only broadens our understanding of political beliefs but also strengthens our democratic system by ensuring that both ideas we agree and disagree with are thoughtfully assessed.

The apparent party unanimity felt at Wellesley can make it easy to disengage from politics under the assumption that your vote doesn’t matter. But as many of us so recently witnessed, election outcome predictions can be easily influenced by our surroundings, especially on Wellesley’s largely Democratic campus. To ensure that we remain politically literate and engaged, we must actively seek out diverse perspectives, challenging our own beliefs and broadening our understanding of the complexities that shape our national discourse. Ultimately, by confronting the nuances of this landscape and stepping beyond the echo chambers of our immediate environments, we can become more conscious participants in democracy.

On principle, disenfranchisement laws that prevent Americans with felonies from voting are undemocratic; they violate the foundation of a “government by the people” on which this country is supposed to operate. Due to the existence of these laws across 48 states, 1.7% of the voting-age population is unable to participate in the election process. While this is an already staggering figure, it is even more concerning when we consider that marginalized racial identities are disproportionately prosecuted by the criminal justice system, and, consequently, disenfranchised at a much higher rate than their white counterparts. Not only does this mean that citizens of color are more greatly impacted by disenfranchisement laws, it suggests a disparity in the party affiliations of ineligible voters, as a majority of non-white American consistently vote for democratic presidential candidates. Thus, election results from the current pool of eligible voters do not accurately reflect the views of the American people as a whole. By making the right to vote conditional, the very promise of power in the people falls short.

Disenfranchisement laws are especially concerning with regard to citizens in active incarceration. Laws that legalize forced manual labor in prisons persist around the country, reflecting the long-standing practice of exploiting incarcerated people as an inexpensive workforce; prisoners are paid only $0.33 to $1.41 an hour on average and make do with the bare minimum when it comes to food, clothes and hygiene supplies. Despite being active members of the country’s labor force, involuntarily and without fair pay I might add, these people are barred from voting. They can benefit the country economically, but they cannot have a say in how it is run — a concerning dichotomy in a country that prides itself on justice for all.

In conclusion, the disenfranchisement of individuals with felony convictions represents a profound failure of the democratic process in the United States, undermining the very principles of political equality and participation. While millions of Americans are stripped of their right to vote, the systemic racial disparities in the criminal justice system make this issue even more egregious. Furthermore, the continued exploitation of incarcerated people, many of whom are denied both the right to vote and fair wages for their labor, exemplifies a troubling contradiction within a nation that claims to champion freedom and equity. The failure to extend the right to vote to all citizens is a grave injustice that perpetuates inequality and denies people the opportunity to fully engage in the democratic process. Until these laws are abolished, the promise of a truly representative democracy will remain an incomplete ideal.

Contact the editor(s) responsible for this story: Caitlin Donovan

Despite the best efforts of many parents and the frustration of teachers across all levels, recreational reading is at an all-time low. This phenomenon stretches into college life, where the state of dorm libraries is abysmal. While dorm libraries are never an advertised feature of Wellesley’s academic life, they pose an opportunity for collective dedication to reading. However, these libraries frequently fall short of their potential. 

As the most accessible collections on campus while Clapp is closed, dorm libraries tell a clear story about reading on the Wellesley campus. There is no formal organization system for these books, meaning the contents of each residence hall vary greatly. Some, like Munger, have a variety of textbooks, classics and a few contemporary novels while others, such as Tower, contain little to no modern literature. Lulu’s collection within the Anderson Forum is also notable – it largely showcases reference materials, similar to Tower. Despite the large volume of titles that reside in these nooks across campus, recreational reading materials are in short supply and are frequently outdated. 

The emphasis on academic texts may factor into a lack of recreational reading at Wellesley and reflects the general downturn in the prevalence of reading across the United States. The National Assessment of Educational Progress reported only 43% of fourth graders achieved reading proficiency on the 2022 exam and an absence of full-text usage in elementary and middle schools reported by the EdWeek Research Center corroborates this lack of mastery. Experiencing a truncated literary education during primary schooling may be impacting both the academic and recreational lives of college students; if undergraduates are struggling with the long-form texts required by classes due to underdeveloped reading stamina, additional voluntary reading seems a meager possibility.

While the closed library and consequently limited access to books pose barriers, reading as a leisure activity can still be encouraged via campus initiatives, such as the “Rec Reading” request form. The QR code can be found around the Mods, which holds the current collection of leisure reading materials. This form allows students to solicit titles for acquisition by the college in order to bolster access to recreational reading. Nevertheless, this effort is not widely known, largely due to the building’s distance from the central campus. Increasing usage of social media or spam to advertise what the Mods offer in regard to leisure reading could augment the visibility and usage of these resources. 

Additionally, improving the state of our dorm libraries is far from impossible. One of Wellesley’s most beloved unofficial traditions is Sustainability Bins, where Wellesley students can donate clothing or furniture items they no longer need. These items are then available to Wellesley students until they are collected and donated at the end of the year or resold at the start of the year in the annual Sustainability Sale. As a start, we could use a similar model for our dorm libraries: at the end of the year, Wellesley students can donate books they no longer need. While this is an imperfect system, some of these books likely need to be donated to outside organizations due to spacial concerns anyway. This creates a tradition of annual donations, which could increase the likelihood that dorm libraries would at least contain up-to-date textbooks and novels from the past decade. While both of these strategies are unlikely to solve the recent decrease in recreational reading, they are achievable first steps to revitalizing a culture of reading here at Wellesley.

Today’s job market is more competitive than ever, with a 31% surge in applicants but a mere 7% increase in openings, according to a Workday report. In light of this trend, Wellesley’s abundance of opportunities for professional growth, including funded internships, the Upskill program and fellowship opportunities, is necessary and invaluable. Logically, the increasingly competitive job market has led students to have a heightened awareness of their resumes: participating in extracurriculars, running for leadership positions, securing internships, shadowing professionals — the list could go on and on. Consequently, navigating our usage of CareerEd’s programs in light of this pressure has become more difficult as well. With more offerings than time to pursue them, it is easy to feel like you aren’t doing enough.

Consequently, overcommitment is a frequent occurrence among Wellesley’s highly ambitious student body. In order to prevent burnout from this drive, it is crucial to reflect on the motivations behind your actions, choosing to act on individual needs, rather than external expectations. No two students have the same aspirations, and therefore no two students will use CareerEd in the same way; humanities majors may benefit more from Upskill than STEM majors that find research internships more valuable. Instead of striving for quantity in professional experience, align your efforts with your interests and intentions. I recognize, though, that this is much easier said than done, especially at a college with a notably decorated student body. Nevertheless, acknowledging the individuality of our paths is a decision within our control and can gradually reduce the pressure to “keep up” with peers if actively practiced.

As a first-year, it’s a blessing in disguise that CareerEd has also implemented effective guardrails to mitigate how much I can participate in its programming.​​ New, first-year students at Wellesley are usually unable to apply for funded internships or utilize career-specific advising. This way, first-years can focus on their academics and the transition to college rather than gaining career experience. To further discourage overexertion, CareerEd could create a guide that details its resources but advises students to take on only what they can handle — committing to every encountered opportunity is not a sustainable path to success. This message holds more influence coming from the college than from peers and could downplay the intensity of the campus’ pre-professional culture. 

Nevertheless, the shared experience of imposter-like feelings among first-years underscores the importance of building a healthy relationship with the resources provided by Wellesley CareerEd— for students of all grade levels. While imposter-like feelings may arise due to the increasingly competitive nature of the job market and the continual abundance of professional development programming, maintaining an internal locus of control can help to alleviate them. In a world, and campus, where comparison is all too easy, let’s strive to create a narrative of success that honors our individual journeys and acknowledges the value of self-care amidst professional aspirations.

At the federal level, restaurants reserve the right to refuse service to customers, including potential reviewers, as long as it is not in violation of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 or Americans with Disabilities Act. However, the essential workers of Wellesley’s dining halls experience no such protection. They are vulnerable to students’ behavior, regardless of what it may comprise, creating an unbalanced power structure that can, and has been, exploited through reviews. One such instance, involving an allegedly negative review of the Bates Dining Hall gelato, sparked discussions among the Wellesley student body about the language used to discuss campus food in light of this lopsided dynamic.

The general consensus of Wellesley students on social media site Sidechat was that negative dining hall feedback should not be voiced. Even so, I don’t think this black-and-white value judgment is sustainable. Instances of food poisoning from AVI Fresh, Wellesley’s dining hall servicing company, provide tangible examples of the need for honest feedback. Thus, barring negative comments can perpetuate service deficiencies, underscoring the need for both critical and acclamatory discussions. Boundaries remain an important consideration, nevertheless, as such commentary can directly impact “people’s livelihoods.”

No definitive lines exist, but the intrapersonal implications of a review should be taken into account for more mindful decision making: How directly will my comments interact with the creator of the food I am discussing? Was a team involved or a single person? Is my feedback constructive or defamatory in nature? These questions can inform both formal food journalism and casual judgment-making that aligns with widely accepted ethics of reviewing.

The student body’s unity in regard to minimizing negative dining hall reviews illustrates the crucial role of Wellesley’s essential workers as part of the campus community. While both positively and negatively-connotated feedback are necessary to advance Wellesley’s dining experience, the essential workers who form the backbone of the system should not be taken for granted. It is easy to overlook their dedication when interactions with them compose a sliver of our everyday experiences, but a small, intentional effort goes a long way.

Respecting the work of the dining hall staff extends beyond ethical reviewing practices. From returning dishes to their proper disposal containers and abiding by service hours, it takes little effort to create a more interconnected campus. By embracing a nuanced perspective on food reviews, we can help cultivate a dining culture at Wellesley that prioritizes both accountability and appreciation for the individuals who nourish our community.

Contact the editor(s) responsible for this story: Caitlin Donovan