"War…what is it good for?" is the chorus of a famous Edwin Starr song. The song's central question reflects the anti-war feeling of the Vietnam War era by expressing doubt that war has any purpose at all. The question still exists today on the angry lips of anti-war activists.
In times of wealth, in the days of yore, during peak hours of foot traffic, with the turn of a magical key, an appointed Burns security official conferred the status of "express" upon two of the three elevators in 245 Lex. This key allowed for speedy travel up and down the elevator shaft with stops only at assigned floors.
In the middle of a recent Hebrew class, I found myself thinking up a letter I would love to write to my elementary school Hebrew teacher: "Dear Morah Ronit, I have been meaning to write you this letter since my first day of Hebrew class at Stern College this past fall, when in my 1104 Lower Intermediate class my teacher announced that along with the textbook and worksheets we would also be learning through supplementary videos, including Rechov Sumsum [Sesame Street].
I attended a debate on April 21st at Rockefeller University and my thoughts before the debate were not akin to a "Typical Stern Girl." I thought that a woman has a right to choose if she wants to be a prostitute or a call girl. "If she is happy and enjoys what she is doing professionally and it doesn't bother me, then why not?" was my train of thought.
Government bailouts are simply stupid and irresponsible. They will produce incompetence and higher taxes for years to come. I take the extreme position that not a single company should be bailed out. The truth is that this financial crisis is everybody's collective fault, and now we have to pay the price for it.
Growing up instilled with a passion for helping the Jewish community, I was at a loss to determine how exactly to help the community. It is best to aid others by using one's strengths, thus optimizing one's ability to help and increasing the quantity and quality of help the recipient receives.
How quickly time passes. It was only a year ago that I was still cherishing my year in Israel. Last year, Purim 5769, was a Purim meshulash, a celebration three days long in Jerusalem. Those three glorious days of Purim gave way to a wave of celebration that resounded throughout Israel.
As a product of the network of Bais Yaakov schools, I proudly consider myself a student of Sarah Schneirer, the pioneering founder of Bais Yaakov in early 20th century Poland. In my mind, all women who receive a Jewish education owe a similar debt of gratitude to Sarah Schneirer.
I am what I like to call a weather-person-a person whose mood is strongly affected by external conditions. Although I occasionally enjoy this aspect of my personality, it has recently become quite frustrating, as I seem to have come down with a terrible case of cabin fever.
On February 24th, I was fortunate enough to have been able to participate in a lobby mission along with forty-three other YU students. It was the first time I had ever been to Washington (while cognizant of my location- I also went when I was a couple months old).