Like many on the staff of The Daily Tar Heel, I had no intention of coming to UNC to become a writer.
What are streets for? This seems like a relatively dull and easily answerable question to many Americans. “They’re for cars! They’re for taking you from point A to point B, nothing more, nothing less.”
I started smoking cigarettes this summer. This will come as a serious disappointment to my lungs, 5K time and my mother when she reads this column.
Leslie Knope can do it all. How could any one person so confidently organize the Harvest Festival (while being under a curse), turn a horrible pit into a park, win a seat on the town council and, in Ann Perkins, foster the cutest friendship ever?
Sidewalks, the North Carolina Department of Transportation and Winter Storm Jonas walk into a bar. This is the beginning of a bad joke that I won’t finish, but the relation between the three is unmistakable.
For a formerly miserable suburbanite, the town of Chapel Hill is a breath of fresh air. I grew up in a city of 60,000 on Florida’s east coast, one in which the richest public life occurred in supermarket parking lots. By 18, I knew I had to leave.
“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”
There are some days when being proud of UNC’s sustainability initiatives is easy. Watching my peers pedal across the brick paths on Tar Heel Bikes and easily composting organic material through a residence hall program makes me proud of our school’s commitment to being green.
I t’s very easy to come off as a pessimist when talking about environmental issues.
By operating under laws designed for another conflict and allying with repressive regimes, the President has put us in a precarious strategic and moral position in the country’s fight against ISIL.
A view towards Hillsborough Drive on Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd. On Tuesday morning, the road was clear, and the sidewalks remained obstructed.
