This Monday, March 31, marks the annual celebration of Trans Day of Visibility, a day emphasizing joy and the flourishing of trans people. In 2025, it comes in the midst of a wave of anti-trans legislation and policies. Much of this activity is being undertaken under the banner of Christian nationalism.
Like many Boston College students, I am a creature of habit. I blast music in the communal showers, always reach for the same pair of jeans, and drink my coffee with a splash of milk and one Splenda. Lately, I’ve been reflecting on habits—specifically, my bad ones.
I have tried to conceal my political opinions in my columns, but not anymore. It’s time to talk Wu-Tang. No, I’m not referring to some extremist group that takes its name from the iconic 1990s hip-hop group. I’m talking about how the rise of ironic political disengagement—embodied in a $35 Wu-Tang lawn sign—is killing America.
I’m a better person in New York City—more optimistic, kinder, and more relaxed. These qualities are probably the exact opposite of how the average person would describe NYC. The city’s constant, insatiable noise and energy are stressful for most, but, for me, they absorb my worries right up.
I’ve always loved bubbles. But maybe my fondness for them isn’t just because of their seemingly magical qualities—it’s because I live in one.
Puerto Rico, the island in the Caribbean I call home, only has a little more than three million inhabitants within its 3,515 square miles. Everyone I know knows each other, looks alike, and holds similar values and beliefs.
In my town specifically, every student goes to one of five schools and will eventually live right next to everyone they have ever known. I loved it, and I still do, but within the beauty of my innocently iridescent bubble, I never saw the world for what it truly was.
When I was in elementary school, I was no stranger to nightmares. Though many of them featured outlandish scenes of giant spiders, one particular nightmare haunted me with its unsettling realism.
For nearly fifteen years, this nightmare remained fictional—until this past weekend.
Editor’s Note: This is the debut edition of Civil Discourse, a new column where Isabella Pieretti and Conor Richards share their perspectives on a political story or event covered by The Heights. This first column is a response to “BC History Professor Denounces Musk’s Actions as “a Coup” to Millions of Social Media Followers.”
Erectile dysfunction affects 19 percent of the male population and receives five times more research funding than premenstrual syndrome (PMS), which 90 percent of women endure each month. In addition, 31 percent of women experience severe reproductive or gynecologic problems, yet a narrow 2 percent of publicly funded research is dedicated to female reproductive biology.
If you give a ginger a Guinness, she’s going to want Lucky Charms. If you give a ginger Lucky Charms, she’s going to want a four-leaf clover—the list continues with all the Irish nosh and haberdashery that I believe I should be showered with this St. Patrick’s Day.
The Heights is endorsing Andrew Cimino and Brody Whetzel for UGBC president and vice president.
After in-depth discussions with all three teams and a careful review of their platforms, The Heights believes Cimino, MCAS ’26, and Whetzel, LSEHD ’26, will effectively lead UGBC with an outsider perspective, a focus on transparency, and realistic expectations of what their administration can achieve.
