Congratulations to the Class of 2020! As of yesterday, many of you have finally gotten the graduation ceremony you deserve. 

We know it’s been a long time since you were here, but we owe you proper recognition. It’s more or less customary for the Campus Times to give the graduating classes an affectionate 15 seconds of fame and our well-wishes. Much like everything else, however, custom and familiarity got pushed to the wayside during spring 2020.

But we haven’t forgotten about you.

We want to give you the congratulations you missed and the acknowledgement you deserve. It’s been two years since you left campus, and hopefully those of you reading this article have discovered that the world after college isn’t so bad (or maybe it is). No matter where you are right now, CT wants to applaud you for finishing your degree under the worst possible circumstances, without even a proper graduation ceremony to send you off.

Welcome back to Meliora Weekend, this time as an alumnus. Campus looks a lot different than it did when you left — the hoards of students are back, but this time, fully masked. Classes have returned to in-person. UR has (almost) returned to normal.

We know you must be feeling nostalgic, maybe disappointed, as you walk around campus seeing the current seniors experiencing the final year of college you never got to have. We know you entered the “real” world (read: the job market) completely obliterated. We know it must have been difficult, and continues to be difficult. 

But we’re proud of you, and we wish you continued luck. Or, if you need it, ever better luck.



Dinner for Peace was an unconventional way of protesting for Palestine

The dinner showcased aspects of Palestinian culture. It was a unique way of protesting against the genocide, against the Israeli occupation, against the university’s involvement with the genocide.

Notes by Nadia: The myth of summer vacation

Summer vacation is no longer a vacation.

Making first impressions: Don’t get stuck in your head

Perhaps the only way to prevent yourself from sinking into that ocean of once-seen faces, to light a rescue beacon before it’s too late, is to do something remarkable.