Olivia Huang ’29 challenges the popular belief that increasing reliance on artificial intelligence is unavoidable and urges readers to embrace the human spirit.
In this edition of Swat Says, students reveal their go-to news sources, share which bad habits they would be willing to give up for a month, and reflect on the 2026 midterm elections.
First-year Dylan Myrick is a freestyle, Individual Medley (IM), and breaststroke specialist for the Swarthmore men’s swim team. The Eugene, OR resident swam at his first collegiate meet on Oct. 24, where Swarthmore, Franklin & Marshall College, Ursinus College, and Dickinson College
For much of Swarthmore’s history, students faced the reality of Sharples’ abbreviated hours: if you didn’t make it by the 8 p.m. closing time, you were going into the night without dinner. Student athletes would oftentimes be forced into rushing to the
Outside hitter Isabel Adam ’28 has been lighting it up for the Swarthmore volleyball team this fall. She came into this season with extensive on-court experience, playing in all but one game in her first two years at Swarthmore, and earning All-Centennial
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.
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