In the inaugural article of our new Opinions series “Office Hours,” various Swarthmore faculty members share their thoughts on the role of professors in services of the liberal arts.
In this edition of Swat Says, students share their favorite dining hall meal, reveal the craziest thing they've heard from a professor in class, and discuss the buildings with the worst vibes on campus.
Swarthmore women’s soccer forward Lauren Lior ’27 hails from Fairfield, CT, and is a graduate of Greens Farms Academy. During her first year with the Garnet, she had a stellar season, breaking into the starting lineup, and cementing herself as an integral
As we head into the middle of the fall semester, Swarthmore’s sports schedules will become increasingly busy. While exams and paper deadlines approach quickly, varsity athletic teams plunge into the middle of conference play, when the significance of winning is the most
In the post-COVID era, the art of dressing well seems to have slowly and sadly started to fade into antiquity. No longer are the schools of America flooded with fashion-forward students determined to dress their best. Chic jeans and sweaters are disappearing,
Welcome to “How To Do Things You Suck At,” every Swattie’s go-to guide on how to try something new and (eventually) succeed in it. Want to learn how to crochet? Play badminton? You’ve found the right place, then. Every month, you’ll follow
“I think I love this place.” The first text message I ever sent from Pennsylvania. Sunday, Aug. 24, 2025, 9:30 p.m. I was holed up at the Hampton Inn in Media, fresh out of a shower that had washed away all the
First year. First semester. First weeks. I had no idea what to expect. I was still settling into life at Swarthmore: adjusting to the campus environment, my new roommate, my dorm, all my classes, the hundreds of names I (for the life
Wyatt Brannon ’26 advocates for the centering of autistic voices in the wake of Donald Trump’s and RFK Jr.’s inflammatory statements about supposed causes of autism.
like crystals you touched the glass and it broke your leaves at full bloom but dust covers the path forward why does your heart race leave mine cold i want to talk to you about it about how the rose lost its
fisting your hair i jumped off the boat ready to float and flee and fly but then you asked if this was what i had always longed for if this was it i didn’t have an answer so i waited for you
squeezing life out of rustling trees pouring mint tea into birch mugs listening to the birds watching colors of the sky change and change living in an eternity our scribbles are golden inking in barks glimpsing dawn our eyes following the earth
catching your hands as they fall rose petals glimmering in your eyes as we bike towards the sunset rushing forward into the future not backing it building it sunlight flickering in our path oblique creations we’re molding still and sitting in silence