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Please stop messing with my pants

It started off with small things. One morning, the cuffs of my pants were slightly shorter, almost imperceptibly so.

Whatever happened to the dormitories of yesteryear?

Two images come to mind: One is of cinder block-walled rooms hidden behind brutalist edifices, and the other is of air-conditioned suites bathed in natural light.

Conversations can’t happen in empty rooms. Join us.

It can be uncomfortable and deeply frustrating to hear people say things about these sensitive topics that feel inaccurate, unacceptable, and sometimes hurtful.