President Donald Trump’s recent decision to end DACA seems to show, above anything else, that he and those around him struggle to understand the perspective of those whose lives they are drastically changing. Empathy can be difficult, especially if the other person’s life seems too far away and separated from one’s own. Some feel as if immigrants are “other:” different people who share nothing in common with ordinary Americans. Today’s political situation does not help either: immigrants are depicted as terrorists and criminals rather than as people.

The state of men’s tennis today is, in a word, bizarre. For most of the season, the No. 1 player in the world was Andy Murray. This year, Murray won just one tournament (the Dubai Open in February). In the four Grand Slam tournaments, he failed to make it to a single final and lost before the quarterfinals in all but the French Open. He didn’t even play in the U.S. Open, the year’s final Grand Slam. This made for an interesting dynamic, since the top player in the world was rarely considered a favorite in any of the biggest tournaments. Now, rightfully so, Murray is no longer the No.

On behalf of the Association of Amherst Students (AAS), I would like to welcome the Class of 2021 and incoming transfer students. I write to introduce new students to the AAS in terms of what student government at Amherst looks like and what we do.

As another year at Amherst gets underway, the differences from the previous school year become more and more apparent. We notice the new haircut of a classmate or the worldly experiences the study abroad students have gained. The routine of asking what you did over the summer or about class schedules floods back. Our relationships are forced to adjust to the change as well. What seemed so second nature last semester seems to differ from that, reality this semester.

When I fell on hard times over the summer, I turned to writing. I wrote down my thoughts and feelings. I poured my heart out. Then, when I was finished, I shared the story with my friends online. I confided, and in doing so, relinquished ownership of my story. My history — my life — was no longer just mine. It was now also the readers’. Through surrender, I had achieved catharsis. I felt as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, and I could finally breathe.

In “Between the World and Me,” Ta-Nehisi Coates claims that America was “built on looting and violence.” If this is indeed the case, then the nation has returned to its roots.

When we watch videos from Charlottesville and see white supremacists in militant formations, a few questions come to mind: Do they know who Hitler was, and what he did? Have they always lived their lives with a sense of immunity?

When arriving at any new place, unfamiliarity and disorientation are expected. These feelings are both imagined and physical. Here you are, with unfamiliar thoughts, hallways and buildings. There’s a nervousness that comes with the mystery, but also a thrill. There’s an implicit promise that the corners will unfold themselves and that this place will lose its mystique and become a home.

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