Narples. The expensive piece of brick that replaced the old ski-lodge-looking stone we called Sharples. It is the poster child of the power that donors have on Swarthmore. The Swarthmore ship depends on its sea of money to keep floating and expanding
MySwat, our dear friend. The one who holds our hand, guiding us through our Swat experience. The first entity in this college to know our names, our pronouns, and our home address. Sometimes MySwat can be the bearer of difficult news, like
COVID, or as I like to call it: the bug. Most of us have had that flea bite us in the ass at some point — and I can tell you, mine itched for a while. At this point, getting bitten by
Today it’s take-out time. The clock ticks; the rush-hour Sharples adrenaline kicks in. I pass people by and the New Yorker within comes out of me. I’m so sorry. I get my food into my cardboard takeout container, letting it brew with
