To the person who wrote “I Have F***ing Had It With This College’s Leadership”,

You should join an organized activist group on campus.

Last month’s headlining story, reflected a sentiment that many of us have had at one point or another: Olin’s administration is prioritizing making money over student, faculty, and staff voices and values. This piece is not to debate the validity of the sentiment, nor to try to point to where it stems from. For now, I will leave those discussions to your personal experiences, thoughts, conversations, and opinions. This piece is not just addressed to the person who wrote last month’s article; it is written to anyone who has passionately disapproved of a decision that has been made at Olin, to anyone who has been subject to a change outside of their control, and to anyone who has tried making change within the school. It is written with the intent of providing some advice on how to channel whatever anger, tiredness, disillusionment, jadedness, sadness, or whatever other emotion has come out of it. So, with that established:

To the person who wrote last month’s article,

You should join an organized activist group on campus, and I will offer to you Olin Climate Justice. Let me expound. I know what you’re feeling and I’ve been there before. You came here expecting to be able to make change, to be able to have autonomy in shaping your experience at Olin. Heck, it might be the reason you came to Olin in the first place; we certainly market ourselves as a co-creation paradise. But when you got here, it seemed like that was false advertising, that the only control students have is performative at best because everything you try to do fails or falls upon deaf ears. Now I want to be fully clear: that anger comes from a power dynamic that exists between administration and the rest of the college. You’re feeling powerless because, as a single person, you have no formal power to make change, especially in contrast to the few at the top that make the final decision. Even as you talk with peers that are feeling the same thing, what can you do? I have been in this situation, and it makes you feel alone and powerless against a system that you can’t change.

And that is why I encourage you to join an activist organization. The goal of activism is to gather these voices and more importantly, to organize them. In organizing, you combine the experience and knowledge of others. Many voices are taken and empowered to speak out as one. Making change gets complicated fast. Thinking about what change needs to be made is the easy first step, but thinking about the strategy, goals, methods, motivations, and everything else involved in making that change will quickly become incredibly daunting. You need more knowledge. You need more time. Most importantly, you need more support. Luckily, it exists. 

You need more knowledge. Decades of activist philosophy and learning have been compiled specifically for higher education institutions within the United States. They include what has worked, what hasn’t, what strategies exist and how to use them, and everything else about structuring and organizing. It has all been picked apart and put together. It has been tried and refined. And it has been documented so that the rest of us can learn and think and act with them. Even at Olin, OCJ has in-depth resources and documentation of activist movements going back to 2016, along with alumni contacts. Since we began as an organization in 2022, we have intentionally noted changemaking strategies, processes of decision-making, and reflections on actions and their impacts. We have made changes to our structure and strategies as we’ve learned. We have noted what hasn’t worked, and more importantly, what has. This knowledge exists in countless documents and in the memories of leads of any activist organization; go ask them for it. You don’t have to figure it all out yourself.

You need more time. An activist group distributes the work of organizing and running a campaign, allowing people to utilize their strengths and not have to take on everything at once. Organizing takes work. Strategizing, drafting arguments, researching, attending meetings, and a thousand other things need to be done for a well-run campaign. The amount of time that it would take one person to do all of this – especially at the college that studies the most – would be nearly impossible. A campaign needs a graphic designer just as much as it needs a legal researcher. This division of effort means that a changemaking effort isn’t dependent on one person, but can be worked on by many at a time. You don’t have to do all the work yourself.

And you need more support. Challenging any power structure alone is terrifying. There is uncertainty. There is loneliness. Prominently, there is risk and its associated fear. You don’t know how your friends or community will react – if you will be ridiculed or ostracized – which leads to hesitation in expressing yourself. You don’t know if there will be formal retaliation in the power structure, leaving you isolated or even exiled from your community. You know so little about so much that could happen, and it feels like there is no safe place to express yourself. And while I hope you can find trust and confidence in your friends, almost all activist organizations will serve as this safe space. Organizing is stressful and emotionally draining. Trust me, I understand this. It is essential to the functioning of an activist group to be a safe place – there needs to be a solidarity that is only built with trust. These places are intentionally created. We understand that while it’s useful for knowledge to be shared and work to be delegated, it is necessary for the team to trust itself and be comfortable with each other. But you don’t have to be by yourself through it.

I find that we’re often tempted at Olin to fall into a “do it yourself” mentality – a mentality that we should have the spunk to be able to look at any problem and find its solution. But speaking from experience, that will only serve to burn you. Any community problem is incredibly complex. When it comes to making a change, you need to remember: you don’t have to figure it all out yourself, you don’t have to do all the work yourself, and most importantly, you don’t have to be by yourself through it.

I want to end by quoting something in your piece: “Maybe they came with some grand ideas of how to change this place for the better, and found out that real change is hard.” Reflecting on myself, I know that this is true. I came here with grand illusions of how easy it would be to make large-scale change and shape my community for the better. My rose-tinted lenses were promptly smashed off my face as I was repeatedly punched over and over again. It hurt. And while I can’t speak for the experience of others, you may be right, maybe the administration also had this experience. Maybe you did as well. 

I don’t want anyone to have to go through that experience. I see the cure to it lying in more knowledge, time, and support. I humbly offer OCJ as a place that can hopefully fill those three in some capacity, but it doesn’t have to be us. There are plenty of other resources and people, on and off campus, trying to create change in a way that is informed by activist methodology and strategy. I mention OCJ because we are the only officially established activist organization on campus (so we get better snacks off that sweet CCO budget), but you have other options. You can take a Wellesley course on activism (shoutout to Laura Grattan)! You can get involved in an organization in Boston! You can find cool people and events to reach out and go to! And you can do umpteen other different things! (Although I will also mention that OCJ always starts our meetings with a share out on some aspect of activism and an exercise that teaches some organizing skill, typically unrelated to climate justice. If you want to just show up for the start, you’re welcome to do that as well!)

Changemaking is hard, and no one should have to do it alone. Find a place where you will have years of knowledge backing you. Where you will have the time and effort of others aiding you. And where you will have the support to be able to get through the rough days. We have a stronger voice together, and that’s what organizing is fundamentally about.

Find a place where your frustrations of powerlessness can be channeled into forces of power. 

In solidarity,

Ike

And just to complete the shameless plug: OCJ meets in the PARC 6:30 – 8 every Tuesday. All are welcome :) 

This summer, I worked at Olin with Professor Sam Michalka and eight other Oliners on the CALL initiative. While our main objective was to find ways to integrate AI and emerging technologies with higher education, Sam pushed us to consider the real purpose of higher education. And more existentially, whether that purpose still matters.

Following one of these large discussions, Diana Garcia ‘25 and I were chatting after work when she asked me, “Swasti, what’s your perspective on Olin’s future?”

And without thinking about my answer I said, “I dunno man, I just want to get my degree and get out of here.”

“That’s so interesting… I didn’t expect you of all people to be so jaded”

I must have followed with a defensive quip of how all upperclassmen are jaded but I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was unequivocally right to judge me. 

She was right because I’m not a laid-back, nonchalant person. I am so chalant! I be chalanting!! I get involved in situations that don’t particularly ask for my input. I meddle. I care. And it’s my, perhaps naive, belief that most Oliners chose to be here for that same reason: to be with other engineers who care about making an impact.

So what’s happening?

Well, it feels like nobody believes Olin is going to last. It feels like half my class is expediting their graduation date as quickly as they can. And I catch myself counting credits to see whether I can graduate early too. Where is this trend coming from?

I remember a conversation later on in the summer that I had with Ian Walsh ‘26 and Alex George ‘26. It was so heated that it bled into our lunch break. The topic of discussion was what defines an Oliner. We talked about how in the past*, it seemed like Oliners were more willing to take risks, no matter how frivolous. More willing to spend 20 hours exploring something just because “it seemed interesting and fun.” The average Oliner’s capacity for play and exploration has been depleted since then. Is it that the new Oliners just aren’t the same goofy risk-takers we supposedly used to be? I refuse to believe so. I fear it is that Olin no longer provides the safety net it once did. 

Leslie Bostwick ‘26 said it best in her recent resignation email: “[The old] system [was] based at a time where Olin’s student body was still 50% on full tuition scholarship. A student body who didn’t need to choose their extracurriculars by the opportunities that further their future career in order to buy back the student loans sooner.”

We’re looking for quicker, easier ways to become competitive professionals. Which is increasingly desirable when there’s a looming sense of instability, financial and otherwise. We cannot be the same “goofy risk-takers”. How can we? 

I don’t have a clear-cut answer to how we can adapt our system to these unprecedented constraints. All I know is that there must be a better-formed alliance between students and those making systemic decisions.

Olin’s conflicts have historically been students versus Big Bad Admin shrouded in smoke. But I want to believe that Admin is fighting hard to make a name for Olin. So why the constant inability to hear one another? Are we not supposed to be on the same team? Is it not Olin’s cardinal lesson to collaboratively design a better system?

I recognize that plenty of students have interacted with admin to enact change, only to return with frustration and less progress than before. And it’s wildly presumptuous of me to suggest that those people haven’t done their due diligence in their attempts at collaboration. I must clarify that I am criticizing myself and others like me who continue to let those small few burden the load of being the only points of contact. Today’s Oliners are chronically stretched thin, wearing several campus identities, constantly.

Echoing Leslie once again, “time is our most precious resource.” So I understand that none of us have the time or energy to expend on involving ourselves with Student Government. At no other institution would we have to plead with our students to cough up a Student Body President. And by no means am I prescribing you as the reader to suddenly stand up and sign up for a position that you have no bandwidth for. If I’m honest, I’d have never engaged with CALL if it weren’t for the fact that I was getting paid over the summer to do so. 

At the risk of appearing as a Leslie superfan, there was another incredibly important point I want to bring up. “Student engagement that’s for the future of Olin should compensate you in the form of academic credit, allotted time or monetary.” 

My high school had a for-credit course dedicated to student government. As it stands, Olin’s structure does not prioritize student opinion purely because there is no incentive for the average student to take on such a large initiative. We must find ways to value student time and effort if we also wish for students to be co-creators of their education. And if leadership isn’t aligned with that goal, well then, I see why the active few are so frustrated and the student body is so resigned. 

I don’t want to be resigned and jaded. I care about this place and the people who make it Olin to me. Despite grappling with some existential questions over the summer, our CALL group has formed a pretty formidable bond with one another. It’s so adorably human, the desire to create a community wherever you go. If higher education has a role beyond the academic material, it has to be the space to define yourself relative to the community you are surrounded by. And in the special case of Olin, the ability to define your community relative to yourself.

*The view of ‘past olin’ represented here is extremely romanticized. I urge everyone to be critical of their biases and be critical of my thoughts as well. We all stand to gain from holding each other in mutual disagreement and respect.

Disclaimer: Spoilers ahead.

The Wild Robot is perhaps the most transformative movie I have ever watched. I was talking to my good friend, Al Gore, and he told me something very interesting: “Family isn’t an obligation, but instead a choice.” I think that the 2000 election changed him. Afterwards, he never smiled and he never wept; he simply stood. He no longer thought that the people of America were his family. He no longer championed the climate for which he had fought so hard to protect or the people of the country that betrayed him.

Much like a hanging chad, his life was perpetually suspended in limbo, an uneasy balance between the death of his soul and the very alive body which so indignantly propelled him through time. I tell you about Al not to paint a tragedy but to make a point. I spent years trying to pull him out of that slump and I couldn’t do it. It took something bigger, it took someone better; we needed The Wild Robot.

The Wild Robot starts with a simple premise: what if a robot was taken out of its environment? 2000 pounds of steel and wiring is dumped in the forest in the form of Roz, and immediately the entire woodland community hates her. This cleverly references the reaction of Glen Falls, Vermont when I dumped 2000 pounds of steel and wiring there. The Wild Robot gears you up in the first couple minutes for a heartwarming story about living in a community, examining your biases, and environmentalism above all. That is not what this movie is about.

The Wild Robot delivers a series of sucker punches. The first of which is that unlike WALL-E and The Terminator, there is no sci-fi eco-fable happening; this is a movie about the struggles of parenting. Perhaps this is only shocking if you haven’t seen the trailer. When Al and I walked into the theater that Saturday afternoon, we certainly had not. It’s jarring, but it isn’t bad. You’re going to spend the next 2 hours watching a robot raise a goose. You watch Roz and the goosling grow to form a family. By the end, the payoff of Brightbill leaving the nest is earned (in a way that Bush’s presidency certainly was not).

A lesser movie would end here – not The Wild Robot. In the last half hour, The Wild Robot has no less than 3 movie-ending emotional payoffs. Al’s reaction was something to see. The first payoff hits when Brightbill migrates south, leaving Roz behind. Looking right for but a moment, I see a single tear roll down Mr. Gore’s face, the first hint of emotion he’s betrayed since November 7th, 24 years ago. 

And before you can recover… BAM!! Payoff number 2: every carnivore and herbivore in the forest has been stuffed together into a little room and they’re all attacking each other. Roz, perhaps powering down for good, makes a speech with the last morsel of energy she can muster from her fuel cells. The fighting stops, the animals lay quiet, and Al Gore texts his children for the first time in 14 years. He’s smiling – he’s actually smiling! Roz has succeeded not only in stopping the conflict in the forest but also the conflict in our beloved 45th Vice President’s heart.

BAM!! Not even 5 minutes later, they do it again. At this point I must admit that I lied earlier; this is an eco-fable after all. The Rozzum corporation attacks the forest and nearly burns it to the ground. Fighting back, the community of animals bands together against this ALeGOREy for consumerism, rampant exploitant of the environment through industrial processes, and unenlightened technocentrism. It is then that Roz says the line: “I am a Wild Robot”.

Upon hearing this, Al, who was now bouncing with excitement in his seat, simply died. The EMTs who arrived on the scene could not help as they were too transfixed by Dreamwork’s newest release in IMAX 3D. I am told that his carotid artery burst, the tragic downside of his heart growing three sizes that day.

I tried to weep but could not. Al had lived more in those twenty minutes than I had seen him live in twenty years. This is how he would want to be remembered. He would want you to know what he’d seen. He would want you to know, even if only for a moment, that he was alive.

A-Tier: Despite my personal opinion, I can’t help but adore these tropes; they made this movie so much more than I expected it to be.

B-Tier: I’m not usually a fan of these tropes in most movies, but their inclusion in this one was to its benefit.

• Title Drop – Usually cringe-worthy; in this instance, however, the title drop was the funniest part of the movie.
• Grew Beyond Their Programming – Ok, I’m a bit sappy.
• Crippling Overspecialization – Has unparalleled ability to learn and extensive databanks but teaches a goose to do the front crawl like a human person.
• No Kill Like Overkill – From tube arms to railguns real quick.
• But Now I Must Go – A very realistic decision to surrender and return; no power source:  no robot.

C-Tier: I’m neutral toward these tropes.

D-Tier: I usually like these tropes, but this movie did not do them well and suffers for it.

• Nature is Not Nice – Had more realistic prey/predator relationships at the beginning, but they backed out of it halfway through.
• The Power of Love – Where is the love physically kept??? It’s a robot?
• Animal Talk / Translation Convention – We could’ve had more variety in how the animals sounded; there is no difference in grammar despite a broad range of species.

F-Tier: I might appreciate these tropes in other media, but they are so poorly executed in this movie that it does the whole film a massive disservice.

• Spock Speak – They attempt this convention at first, but it is so quickly discarded that it only serves as a mild distraction at best and a nuisance at worst.

Recently, I’ve heard people complaining about different groups of people on campus not being reachable. I realized my experience has been quite different. I am the student who emails admin invitations to the dining hall and introduces herself to as many dining hall staff as she can. Here are some ideas so that you can start your own conversations.

To Meet Dining Hall and Facilities Staff

• Say hi to them in the hallways and introduce yourself! 
• When they help you out on campus, thank them and go from there!

To Meet Students

• Sit with them in the dining hall. Really just sit down if there is an empty seat next to them and introduce yourself. Oliners like to talk!
• Email them! Even if it is a stranger.
• Email our CORe representatives! There are elected members who run events, meet with admin, and much more. Feel free to reach out to Kenneth Xiong… he’s happy to talk CORe or about parking spots in Boston…
• Reach out to a fellow student who you want to get to know better! You know you have that person; send them a random text or email about meeting up!

To Meet the President’s Cabinet (if you are wondering who they are, try a google search)

• Email them! 
• Sit down with them in the dining hall. Al Sacco and various members of the cabinet have lunch in the dining hall on Thursdays from 12-1. They are there to meet everyone!
• Show up to their office. If the door is open, go in and say hi!

To Meet Staff and Faculty

• Email them! Most of them have informational pages on the Olin website. See what they do and reach out about it.
• Sit with them in the dining hall, schedule a meeting with them, or go to events that they advertise!
• Ask them about their research or what they studied in college!

To Meet Babson Police

• Say hi to the officers when they do their rounds through campus. They like to hear about our projects!

To Meet President Barabino and the Board of Trustees

• Send an email to gbarabino@olin.edu or boardoftrustees@olin.edu
• Message the board member on Linkedin

These might all feel awkward at first and that’s okay. To help, I have added a few tips below:

• People want to talk with other people! That means you!

• Some conversation starts: Favorite hobby? Favorite sports team? If you could only eat one meal for the rest of your life what would it be? 
• To send an email: Start with “Hi my name is ___!” and maybe follow that up with something like “I do XYZ at Olin. I would like to learn about XYZ things you do. Could we find a time to meet this week?” 
• My favorite thing to do when I meet up with someone: Get some ice cream! Suggestions of places: Trim for soft serve, Olin dining hall when we have it, Truleys in Wellesley.

I challenge you to do one of these things listed above and meet someone new this month! I am looking forward to meeting more of you! 

SWE was founded in 1950 with the mission of empowering women engineers. Women were (and still are) a gender minority in engineering. Nowadays, this mission can extend to the transgender community because they are also gender minorities who are more likely to get fewer job offers and lower pay than cisgender men. This is why the SWE conference exists: for gender minorities to make connections with each other and have space to pitch themselves to companies for jobs. For us, it is a way to increase opportunities. For exhibitors, it is a way to expand diversity within a company. It’s a corporate win-win.

In 2020, HeForSWE was created as a diversity affinity partner. It’s a group for men to support the mission of SWE and to “grow inclusion and advocacy efforts”. If a man is a HeForSWE member, he can attend the SWE conference and career fair. He can pitch himself for jobs at the fair and interview with companies, just like a regular SWE member.

I can see how this can be helpful for the trans community. If someone can’t out themselves as transgender, they can enlist as a HeForSWE member to access the conference. This is not what I have an issue with.

What I do have an issue with is cisgender men seeing HeForSWE as another way to scope out jobs without recognizing that this space is not meant for them. They who within the engineering field are set for success as they are perceived by society as the “higher being” and the “moneymaker” while women are only ever set for housewarming and, at most, a marketing position. They who, when entering a space such as the SWE conference, are not only actively attempting to take away opportunities for gender minorities but are also being absolute dicks while doing so.

I could not count the number of times I and other SWE members would get dirty looks from men at the SWE conference for just standing in line behind them. As if I was invading their space when, in fact, it was the other way around. Why would you attend a conference meant to give gender minorities opportunities for engineering internships and jobs? Why would you greedily see the SWE conference as another way for you to get a job under the guise of being supportive of SWE’s mission?

In my eyes, allyship means stepping aside and letting gender minorities have the spotlight. It means extending a hand when society hinders gender minorities from having a successful engineering career. It means recognizing your current place in society in comparison to gender minorities. It means understanding why a conference like SWE needs to exist in the first place. With all these in mind, it creates a valid argument for imploring one very simple thing:

Don’t look for jobs at the SWE career fair if you’re a cisgender man. 

Want to attend the talks? Sure, they’re pretty cool and valuable. But please, don’t look at the career fair sign and think, I can get a job from this. Even just standing in line to try to get a job at the conference means you’re just adding to the barrier that gender minorities face in a place that is meant to aid in dismantling that barrier. 

By choosing not to go, you actually prove yourself as an ally of SWE, regardless of whether you’re registered in HeForSWE.

Disclaimer: This article is my required follow-up project for my Gilman Scholarship. More details below.

I spent my 6th semester at Olin, Spring 2024, studying abroad in Stockholm, Sweden under DIS Study Abroad. My participation was sponsored by the U.S. State Department’s Gilman Scholarship.

What is the Gilman Scholarship? According to their website, “The U.S. Department of State’s Benjamin A. Gilman International Scholarship Program enables students of limited financial means to study or intern abroad, providing them with skills critical to our national security and economic prosperity.” Applying for a Gilman Scholarship is probably a good financial decision and isn’t an endorsement of U.S. foreign policy. You are eligible to apply if you’re a Pell Grant recipient.

My decision to study in Sweden was not well-planned. I applied to DIS Abroad because I had heard good things. DIS has two programs: Denmark, Copenhagen and Stockholm, Sweden. I indicated preferences for one program in Stockholm and one in Copenhagen so that the admissions committee would decide for me. In the end, I was assigned Stockholm, likely because they are trying to develop a new program.

I will not recommend nor discourage Stockholm as a study abroad location, but I will endorse the DIS Abroad organization. I felt very supported navigating all the logistical difficulties of studying abroad. All classes are led by DIS Abroad (as opposed to a local university), and they have a modest diversity of offerings. I used my study abroad to get my AHS concentration done – “Scandinavian studies.” My classes: history of the Vikings, transgender culture in Scandinavia, Scandinavian crime fiction, and Scandinavian fashion.

One of your classes is your “core class” – mine was Vikings – and you’ll travel with your class twice during the semester, all-expenses-paid. The first trip is shorter, maybe 4 days. My class went to Uppsala, a city not far north of Stockholm to look at Viking stuff. Later, we went to Oslo, Norway and Reykjavik, Iceland to look at… more Viking stuff. We were also treated to some dope Indian food in Oslo, which I’ve heard is the best place for Indian food.

As far as personal growth, I became very good at cooking rice and beans. That’s all I ate for two meals a day for over two months. This was also a good financial decision if that’s your thing. Overall, studying abroad will probably have a neutral impact on my future. I suppose it was nice to have classmates that are more uniformly distributed across humanly traits than Oliners are for a semester. Besides that, Stockholm in the winter is very cold and dark, so beware.

As for the Gilman Scholarship, there are plenty of resources at Olin that can help with your application: myself, writing tutors, and Courtney Beach. I’m glad to chat if you have questions or want to get a sense of your personal fit.

My Olin Mad Libs Adventure: Swimming in the LPB

It was finally happening! After __(number)__ months of planning, we were ready to throw our beach day palooza in the LPB! We had all the best decorations prepared. A  ___(noun)___ to set the mood, ___(noun)___s to bring the hype, and 7 ___(noun)___s to top it off. Everyone came in their ___(adjective)___est  ___(noun)___, and stood waiting by the poolside. Dave Barret says to never  ___(verb)___ in the LPB pool because it’s for his robot  ___(noun)___, but  ___(name an Oliner)___says it’s fine, and they’re basically as ___(adjective)___ as Dave. So we took off our  ___(noun)___, and took a dive. “ __(exclamation)__!” each Oliner would yell as they hit the pool floor. Everyone was having a  ___(noun)___, but then we realized the floaties on the water were  ___(verb)___ing. We realized it’s because of all the  ___(noun)___ in the water, which would lead to horrible  __(medical condition)__, but that was the risk we were willing to  ___(verb)___ after we passed the LPB training. After  __(number)__minutes of  ___(verb)___ing around, we all left the pool. Every last one of us had turned into  ___(noun)___, and we were all covered in  ___(noun)___es.  ___(Name an Oliner)___was in a particularly  ___(adjective)___situation, because now they were growing a new  ___(body part)___. We were about to  ___(verb)___ it off with a  ___(noun)___, but just then, speak of the  ___(noun)___, Dave Barret, the  ___(noun)___ himself,  ___(verb)___ed open the door. We all ___(verb)___ed, and hid in the  ___(noun)___ until he left. Dave, suspicious, looked around, admired the decorations, and once he was confident no one was there, grabbed a  ___(noun)___, and hopped in the pool. We escaped by the skin of our  ___(noun)___, and we vowed never to  ___(verb)___ in the LPB pool ever again!

♈ Aries: March 21–April 19

• Horoscope? More like whore of scope?! More like whore…O-scope?!!! Return them please?!!!!!!!! MY WHORES?!

♉ Taurus: April 20–May 20

• Taurus? More like. Clitaurus. Wait, where’d it go?! The asteroid made them go extinct.

♊ Gemini: May 21–June 21

• Have you shown up to DesNat recently? Kate has probably been more than you have.

♋ Cancer: June 22–July 22

• They’re inverting the dogs! They’re transposing the cats! That’s Kamambla’s eigenvector!

♌ Leo: July 23–August 22

• Is Charmander bicurious? Only in theory, not in practice.

♍ Virgo: August 23–September 22

• Did he tell you to come? No, he did that all by himself.

♎ Libra: September 23–October 23

• Wait! I think we have that song on Rock Band. Wait! I think we broke the drums on Rock Band. MaaAaAaAAAaaAaps.

♏ Scorpio: October 24–November 21

• I’ve fucking had it with Frankly Speaking! Posting shit all over the Dining Hall… I could have used that paper to wipe my ass.

♐ Sagittarius: November 22–December 21

• Team bonding? No no no, team bondage. What’s our PIE budget?

♑ Capricorn: December 22–January 19

• Feeling overwhelmed? Have you considered quitting FWOP? Quitting Formula? Quitting CORe? Quitting the first year?

♒ Aquarius: January 20–February 18

• Just so you know, it’s your fault I’m leaving. -Aurelia

♓ Pisces: February 19–March 20

• Go white boy go! Hot To Go?! H-O-T-T-O-G-O! You can take me hot to go.