Asst. Halftime Editors — $oaquin Martinez, Alex Hwang, Quinn Ross
sports:
Executive Editor — Anna Cordova
Sports Editor — $ulia Maurer
Asst. Sports Editors — Andrew Swank, Stella Linn
Halftime Editor — Eileen Weisner
Asst. Halftime Editors — Vince Gude, Lila Gizzie
2esi30:
Design Editor — Paige Benish
Spread Editors — Maggie Zhang
Cover Editor — Michelle Wang
Asst. Design Editors — Pia Cruz, Sophie St Amand, Shabad Singh
cop4:
Copy Chiefs — Isabella Baldwin, Madison Weis
Asst. Copy Editors — Lila Wesner, Sonia Pensa, Michelle Lee
multime2ia:
Multimedia Executive — Olivia Fanders
Podcast Exec. Producer — Katie Reddy
Podcast Editor — Romy Abu-Fadel
Podcast Asst. Editor — Alaena Hunt
Asst. Photo Editors — Yunji Yun, Ella Qu, Ayman Alam
o0li0e: Online Executive — Connor Dwin
Asst. Website Editor — Apara Chandavarkar
Social Media Editor — Maysam Ider
5usi0ess: General Manager — Amber Bai
Asst. Manager of Alumni Outreach — Elyse van Houten
Asst. Manager of Accounts & Sales — Ally Rogers
support:
Contributing Editors — Tina Solki, Sam Monteiro, Emma Cameron, Alex Lalli, Ninabella Arlis, Eileen Miller, Katie Doran
“Georgetown University was founded on the idea of educating the
person, not the machine.” PG 13
Staff Contributors — Izzy Wagener, Ali Chaudhry, Rhea Banerjee, Leah Abraham, Olivia Li, Bradshaw Cate, Cassie Delinsky, Annie Egan, Massimo D’Onofrio, Elle Marinello, Elizabeth Foster, Alexandra Hamilton, Katie Han, Rina Khoury, Michelle Lee, Belinda Li, Aidan Munroe, Rory Myers, Christina Pan, Mahika Sharma, Alexis Tamm, Hannah Yu, Minhal Nazeer
Apply to the Steve Pisinski grant!
I am very excited to share that the Voice is o9ering its Steve Pisinski grant again this year. Started in 2019 and named after the first editor-in-chief of The Georgetown Voice, this grant is meant to aid Georgetown students seeking careers in journalism.
This year, we’ll be funding four grants of at least $2,500 each to subsidize the costs of unpaid or underpaid journalism internships. The money can help o9set housing, food, transportation, resources, and other costs.
Journalism is not a lucrative career, and decreasing newspaper jobs don’t bode well for the industry’s future. But if journalism is to survive—and thrive—the industry needs a generation of committed, welltrained, and ethical journalists to assume leadership.
That generation will never arrive if unpaid or underpaid internships obstruct students from securing the much-needed experience that entering this field requires.
Further, it is essential that this generation is full of reporters from all backgrounds. The financial burden placed by underpaid journalism internships actively obstructs low-income students, who, due to a larger national wealth gap, are disproportionately students of color.
When journalism is penned only by wealthy and white hands, the industry, and the public, su9ers.
Therefore, it’s critical that the industry endeavors to make entering the field more accessible. But because we realize institutional solutions to unpaid internships aren’t going to materialize overnight, the Voice o9ers an, admittedly, stopgap solution: the Steve Pisinski grant program.
We hope that if you’re an aspiring reporter and pursuing an internship places you in a di:cult financial position, you’ll consider applying for the grant.
Applications are due at 11:59 p.m. EST on Friday, April 10, 2026. If you have any questions, feel free to reach out to me, Eddy Binford-Ross, at editor@georgetownvoice.com
Your application will be reviewed by a committee of faculty and professional journalists assembled by Georgetown’s Journalism Program, not the Voice. The Voice funds and administers this grant, but applications are evaluated independently.
Eligibility:
1. Georgetown first years, sophomores, and juniors.
2. Have demonstrated interest in working in journalism as a career, including through pursuit of the journalism minor, participation in one of Georgetown’s student publications, and/or previous work experience.
3. Be applying for or accepted to a summer internship in the following fields: media, photojournalism, video journalism, broadcast journalism, podcasting, radio, editing, print and/or digital journalism, and editorial graphic design. Executive leadership of a student publication may also count as an “internship.” (note: grants will only be processed upon receipt of an o9er for a position)
4. Internships do not need to be unpaid, but those pursuing unpaid internships are encouraged to apply.
Thank you to the Gridiron Club and Foundation, and to the alumni of the Voice, for your generosity which made this grant possible. You can learn more about the grant's history at georgetownvoice.com/grants.
Apply here! <3
As FinApp funding stalls, clubs across Georgetown feel money tighten
BY AUBREY BUTTERFIELD AND SEHR KHOLSA
GRAPHICS BY PIA
CRUZ;
LAYOUT BY
PAIGE BENISH
Each year, 13 student organizations and advisory boards spend hours crafting a presentation for GUSA’s Finance and Appropriations (FinApp) Committee to secure their funding for the following year.
Many organizations rely solely on FinApp’s allocation of resources to fund their events.
FinApp finalized club budgets for Fiscal Year 2027 (FY27)—the 2026-27 academic year—as of March 15. Due to low initial allocations in mid-February, many boards filed appeals, arguing that they needed more money to provide their services to the student body. Despite these efforts, few secured their requested budgets and many saw significant cuts.
Groups that receive FinApp funding include the Advisory Board for Club Sports, Performing Arts Advisory Committee, Lecture Fund, Outdoor Education (OE), and nine others. Those organizations that oversee various clubs, like Media Board, are now beginning the process of internal allocations.
This year’s FinApp allocation process, according to GUSA’s FinApp Chair Han Li (MPP ’27), was particularly difficult as funding for club boards remained the same: $1,331,786. This comes even as the amount requested by advisory boards climbs year after year.
Li had anticipated a larger budget, as funding has steadily increased by around 4% since 2022. FinApp’s money comes from the Student Activities Fee, a $101 cost paid through tuition, but because more Hoyas went abroad this year than usual, fewer students paid the fee.
At the same time, Li said academic departments that have historically
provided support funding for some club events have “pulled that back,” as their own budgets tighten.
“It’s affecting all of our groups,” Li said. “It’s just been very difficult across campus to find money to just do events.”
Li said GUSA aims to distribute funds from students equitably and fairly, and it is their responsibility to both oversee allocations and ensure that funds are used correctly. While multiple organization members acknowledged and appreciated that this is a difficult task, they also expressed concern that the significant cuts could interrupt club programming.
Cuts to funding could impact club programming: OE, GUSA Executive, and Media Board
Organizations like GUSA Executive and OE, which rely solely on funds from GUSA’s allocation process, are particularly worried about how they’ll manage with diminished funding.
For GUSA President Darius Wagner (CAS ’27), this year’s allocations were concerning. GUSA Executive, which operates separately from GUSA’s FinApp, saw a 53% drop in their final allocation from last year’s.
“I think it was disheartening to see the amount of things that we had to take off with the level [of funding] that we're currently given. What we could do with $15,000 versus $7,000,” Wagner said.
For GUSA Executive, their priority continues to be supporting clubs and organizations on campus, even if that takes from their budget. However, Wagner notes that the team still needs significant funding to be operational.
“I think having the funding that is the bedrock of what we can actually be a functional exec with is also really important, and we’re doing our due diligence to find our way to make our money work,” he said.
OE received $9,000—less than half of what they requested, and a 10% cut from FY26.
The funds, OE Guide Kyra Macomber (CAS ’28) explained, are necessary for guide preparation. The wilderness first responder training remains funded, so that the club can continue to partially subsidize the cost of the required course, but new pursuits, like climbing training, and traditions, like the end-ofsemester capstone backpacking trip, are now uncertain.
Macomber is also worried that OE’s lack of funding could raise safety concerns. Following spring trainings, OE guides are expected to lead Georgetown’s Outdoor Pre-Orientation Program (GOPOP), which centers around a multi-day retreat to local sites. Currently, guides pay $250 out of pocket, but with budget cuts, training might
become more expensive or less guides will be brought on to cover the reduction, as training is mandatory.
“It’s very much a risk for us to put people who only have classroom experience into that situation where it’s them, two other guides, and seven freshmen. So really, we can’t cut that kind of thing,” Macomber said.
Additionally, transportation for GOPOP was not funded by FinApp. While Li explained that FinApp does not typically fund GOPOP, Macomber expressed concerns over accessibility for the program. Given that the program already costs upwards of $400 for students interested in exploring the outdoors, organization members thought that FinApp would at least consider the appeal.
For Macomber, GOPOP was a Georgetown-defining experience. Raising costs for students to participate in the program or other OE-led initiatives would defeat the purpose of the club, she said.
“I would really hope that future students don't feel like before they have even gotten to campus, there's already a barrier in place for them to participate in student life,” she said. “College isn’t just a place for preparing for your career, it's a place of personal exploration and reflection. Really building that idea of cura personalis is something OE really exemplifies, and I just sometimes wish in the allocation process that that was reflected a little bit more.”
The Media Board, which represents 13 campus organizations including student publications and WGTB Georgetown University Radio, also took a hit. They were awarded $81,818, a 13.88% decrease from FY26. While this is a larger decrease than previous budgeting changes for media, the Media Board Voting Officer representing The Georgetown Independent , Lorelei Schwarz (CAS ’29), highlighted that this outcome was, in some ways, anticipated.
“I think that we had expected maybe a little bit more, but we knew that this was going to be a difficult year for GUSA and I don’t think we expected a huge amount,” Schwarz said.
oriented organizations. ABSO’s request of $120,000 increased from FY26’s $96,000 request due to increased engagement, according to ABSO Chair Zoe Burke (CAS ’26).
“We’re having more organizations under us, growing them through our New Club Development process,” Burke said, referring to the applications to begin clubs at Georgetown. “We’re having programming at pre-pandemic levels and are having more members in them, they're doing more activities, so that requires more funding as well.”
to student life and help support us to continue our mission,” Giordano said.
The Campus Ministry Student Forum, which received $34,000 in initial allocations with no additional funding in appeals, also saw no change in its budget from last year. Although the organization originally requested $42,780, FinApp expressed concerns regarding their transportation, food, and catering costs, believing that those expenditures should be reduced before they increase their funding.
However, she worries about what the reduction of funding could mean for media organizations and students who want to participate in them.
“We want them to be able to focus on just producing what they can and being very open access,” Schwarz said. “We want as many students to be involved in media as possible and when we have to monetise the events that we’ve run, it makes it harder for students.”
Some growth in funding: McDonough Student Advisory Board and Center for Social Justice
Despite limitations on the overall funding pool, a few boards received increased budgets. The McDonough Student Advisory Board (MSAB), which oversees campus business clubs, saw a significant increase, up from $3,968. Although the $15,000 allocated by Finapp amounted to just 36.8% of its original request, due to “some concerns with MSAB operations which remain to be addressed,” according to the budget document, their allocation marked a 278% increase from FY26.
“This year, we gave more money to the MSAB,” Li said. “[This is the] continuation of a process to slowly integrate McDonough, McDonough student organizations, and the McDonough Student Advisory Board into the operations of GUSA.”
Although Li explained that the fiscal cycle is too “constrained” to lend more support, he believes that MSAB engagement—and funding requests—will increase in the future.
For the Center for Social Justice Advisory Board for Student Organizations (ABSO), FY27 brings $100,000 in funds, an increase from their initial allocation of $96,000 to cover 55 social justice-
Burke also highlighted the use of the Center for Social Justice (CSJ) vans as a proponent for increasing allocation. CSJ, she explained, pays to use the vans, but does not cover maintenance for the vehicles. Though the organization pays a flat rate every year, that cost has increased from $30,000 to $45,000 for the next fiscal year.
Internal reductions: Lecture Fund and Performing Arts Advisory Committee
“We’re having increased usage of the CSJ vans, and the CSJ van price has increased,” Burke said.
Though grateful for the increased funding after the appeals process, Burke expressed that the fulfillment of their initial request would have been ideal.
“We definitely wish we had our full $120,000 ask that we requested,” Burke said. “We’re very intentional in our financial requests to ask for what we need, internal review of the past nine fiscal years, analyzing our status. To support our mission of supporting the social justice initiatives of our organizations, we are grateful that we received more money after the appeals process.”
The largest receiver: Advisory Board for Club Sports
Some organizations, like the Advisory Board for Club Sports (ABCS), received significant portions of the $1,300,000 funding pool. ABCS was allocated $300,000, equal to 22.53% of the total available funding.
No change: Georgetown Program Board and Campus Ministry
Some clubs saw their allocation remain consistent from last year. Georgetown Program Board’s (GPB) $138,000, one of the largest allocations, was similar to last year’s budget and a 94% fulfillment of their request.
GPB President Amelia Giordano (SFS ’26) highlighted the organization’s self-assurance in receiving its funding, given their levels of engagement.
“While the FinApp process depends on the level of funding GUSA has to work with, which is never guaranteed to be the same as in the past, we felt confident the FinApp chairs would recognize GPB’s necessary contribution
The Georgetown Lecture Fund was allocated $73,150, marking a 5% decrease from the previous fiscal year. As explained by the organization’s treasurer, Jackie Early (CAS ’26), this was a choice made by the Lecture Fund itself due to a failure to meet their internal “Parity Policy,” which aims for 50% of speakers to come from racially marginalized backgrounds.
“We failed to meet that policy pretty much every year since 2020, so our chair had the idea to implement and concretize that policy through a slashing hard budget 5%, if we feel we have not met the values of charity,” Early said.
Though self-imposed, Early believes that the decrease in budget will make it difficult to bring in speakers.
“Our budget has been on the decline for several years now, which has made it quite difficult because speakers have only become more expensive,” Early said.
The Performing Arts Advisory Committee similarly reduced its overall request from FY26, requesting $152,752 rather than the $167,877 requested last fiscal year. To FinApp, this choice suggested “a more precise and responsible budget,” based on prior spending patterns. While the organization did receive $125,000, marking a 6.84% increase from FY26, ad hoc or “as-needed funding” was reduced from $35,000 to $10,000.
Looking toward next year
Despite disappointment from many club leaders, Wagner encourages his team and other organizations to continue producing high-quality programming despite constraints.
“There’s only so much time you can spend wallowing in the bleakness of it all, versus getting to work and trying to find, ‘How can we leverage our institutional connections to find ways to fill some of these resource gaps, and put on events on a restricted budget?’” Wagner said. !
Safety Not Guaranteed: Signature Theatre’s newest musical guarantees a good time
BY PHOEBE NASH | DESIGN BY ELLE MARINELLO
Although safety was not guaranteed at Signature Theatre during the Feb. 11 showing of a musical by the same name, a good time certainly was. With exciting lights, quirky characters, and the alluring tunes of contemporary indie rock, Safety Not Guaranteed introduces audiences to a magically realistic depiction of friendship and time travel in the Pacific Northwest.
Bored out of her mind working as a local journalist, young writer Darius (Mia Pak) decides to join her controlling boss Jeff (Preston Truman Boyd) and eager journalism student Arnau (Tyler Dobies) on a trip to the fictional town of Ocean View, Oregon. They’re investigating a mysterious classified advertisement for a story: “WANTED: Someone to go back in time with me. This is not a joke. You’ll get paid after we get back. Must bring your own weapons. SAFETY NOT GUARANTEED.”
Upon arriving in Ocean View, Darius and her crew stalk the master time traveler, Kenneth (Gunnar Manchester), at the P.O. Box listed on his ad. Darius skillfully befriends Kenneth, joins him for an intense training regimen, and helps him complete his machine, all while evading the ever-looming authorities. Essential aspects of a sci-fi thriller—a heist, a complex machine, and the term “quantum limb theory”—are contrasted against heavier reflections about what they are willing to give up to relive the past.
As a Pacific Northwest native myself, the musical’s creators accurately characterize both the coastal town and the contrasting metropolis of Seattle: local magazine rivalries, the barber shop where everyone knows your name, and the “Beach Ahead” street signs as you wave the city goodbye. Darius and Kenneth bond over diner french fries, as I often did with high school friends, and escape to their wooded hideout, of which I had many. I wouldn’t bat an eye if I saw the characters walking around town (even if they were training for their mission) or serving me an $8 latte.
Inspired by a real ad published in 1977, the musical is based on a 2012 film of the same name, starring Aubrey Plaza and Mark Duplass. Watching it in Signature Theater brings the 14-year-old storyline to life and centers the ever-lovable friendship between Darius and Kenneth.
The performers were excellent. Pak’s ability to energetically belt in solo musical numbers while simultaneously immersing herself in the moodiness of a post-grad writer stands out as proof of her range. Manchester (take this as a true compliment from an expert) was so convincingly West-Coast-weird that I truly believed in his multi-dimensional mission. Boyd made my skin crawl as an innuendoobsessed, frustratingly incompetent boss.
Erin Weaver, who played Jeff’s summer hookup, the town hairdresser, as well as a range of other characters, was versatile and convincing in every role. Joshua Morgan, who played Arnau’s librarian love interest, was likewise endearing, another gem in a relatively small but rock-solid cast. But it’s Dobies who stole the show as he leaned into his charming love story with Morgan’s character and his brainy sidekick role. He was truly lovable and his arc was significant, though secondary.
Benefitting from its indie-rock roots, the musical’s dynamic songs and scenes made for a propulsive performance. Each number received thunderous, welldeserved applause as epic singing backed by a full band sprang from earlier dialogue. The energetic band traveled across the stage on a moving elevated platform, a welcome shift from out-of-sight orchestras.
Another standout element was the lighting and special effects. While a pre-show warning gives audience members a vague idea of what’s to come, the smoky haze and creative lighting designs emerge as an astounding conjunction of sci-fi thrill, coastal town, and rock concert. The factory break-in stands out as a display of the production’s technical prowess, with realistic lasers, mysterious ambiance, and blaring emergency lights. Additionally, the changing lighting scheme brings the live band in-and-out of focus, a creative way to bring the music closer to the audience.
And, just as I remembered the work I had to do following my midweek adventure, the actors were bowing on stage.
Safety Not Guaranteed is, in many ways, a millennial musical. Perpetually early-2010s, several jokes and references felt like outdated relics from a slightly older generation. But, if famous playwright Lin-Manuel Miranda’s internet footprint can teach us anything, perhaps we can tolerate the slightly embarrassing as a worthy trade for brilliance. Luckily, theater is a multi-generational community. Even on a Wednesday night, Signature Theatre was filled with an array of theatergoers—fans who both totally understood and failed to get the “All Star” by Smash Mouth references.
It was a heartwarming reminder of the power of the arts community. Even though it took the better part of an evening, largely derailed any late-night studying, and required a multi-step route from campus, the journey was well worth the effort. Signature Theater is a haven for performing arts lovers to sit alongside fellow fans and be rewarded with 100 magical minutes of comical characters and moving music. serves as a
resonant reminder of the importance of taking risks, time travel-related or otherwise. Ask your class friend, situationship, or fellow theater nerd to join you on a musical adventure before closing night on April 12. In your journey across space and time, you might just find yourself along the
Bop with it, lean with it, open a pit with it!
BY PAIGE BENISH
DESIGN BY PAIGE BENISH
In terms of potential and demand, Georgetown should be destined for a fruitful music scene. This campus is abundant in empty living rooms and basements. A fair share of the student body has diabolical weekend liver habits. And, most importantly, we have plenty of emotionally repressed teenagers who know how to play electric guitar.
So, I’ve been racking my brain trying to figure out why I can count all of the local bands on my left hand, and all of the house shows per semester on my right— and still have several fingers left over to twist my mustache with. But, after three semesters of intensive field research, I have a diagnosis: Our crowds are terrible
The majority of the student body’s knees are seemingly injured and stiff. I saw more action and hip movement at my great-grand-pappy’s funeral in rural, ultraconservative German Wisconsin than I did in the front row of one of the best on-campus live musical performances. Many of our lungs must also be wrought with bronchitis, given that my little, microscopic 5-foot-2 self has often been the loudest hooter and hollerer in many of these crowds. Backs must be broken, seeing as no one is willing to throw it back. Even worse, no one seems to know how to back up and make room for any local savior who dares to shake what their momma gave them. You could find more spirit in somebody who has recently undergone an exorcism than I have found in some of these basements.
Thankfully, there are some exceptions to the rule. The crowd at the Dr. Badar Khan Suri Solidarity Concert in February was incredible; the community rallied together with an energy so lively, I left feeling genuinely rejuvenated. And, the following week, Hoyas at Asian American Pacific Islander House’s Hieroglyph show properly released their inhibitions, turning
many LinkedIn connections one has, is a quiet plea for a music scene that allows the soul to breathe. But if we want a music scene that actually matches the talent on stage, we must be a crowd worth playing for.
There’s a symbiotic relationship between the crowd and the band. The band feeds the hungry souls of the crowd with the rhythm, and the people need to feed the band back with gregarious praise. This is a worship ceremony where your nonchalant, arms-folded posture of self-perceived “coolness” is beyond sacrilegious. You have to bop with it! Lean with it! Even open a pit with it! You just must, for the sake of everything good in this world, dance!
For once in your life, take a break from being serious and academic and just be.
There’s this devastating lie going around that’s eating our society alive like rot. A lot of people believe they “can’t” dance. Nothing could be more untrue. Your body’s most fundamental capability is to have a pulse. And to dance, all you need to do is feel the pulse of the drums and rock your hips to it. What you do from there with your arms and feet is dealer’s choice, but just about anything is acceptable as long as it catches the rhythm. You can also listen for the loudest, most consistent sounds—like a snare drum or a bass—and tap your feet, nod your head, or sway your body back and forth. The most important
more life to the room than any amount of liquid courage could. That being said, the rest of the crowd must give the front some room. And prepare to get bumped into if you’re up near the band.
Aside from dancing, it’s vital that the crowd listens to the band. Cramped living rooms and basements get very loud very quickly. If people aren’t able to contain their small talk when the mic pops on, the concert becomes nothing more than a house party where the most magical guests in attendance are being ignored. Hoyas, we must contain our vanity and silence our mouths when short stuff with the guitar starts shredding. You are going to miss the most important thing that will ever happen in front of you. You will miss this rare glimpse at the most raw manifestation of the human soul’s glory and beauty. You must pipe down. You must listen to that boy shred.
After the band has given the night’s sermon and your ears are ringing, the most important thing you must do as a good crowd member is talk to the people around you. Talk to the band, talk to the strangers you danced with. And, soon enough, after enough shows and sweaty basements endured together, the crowd becomes your community, and you’ll wonder why you weren’t dancing together in the first place. !
Men’s basketball season recap: A season of setbacks
BY EILEEN WEISNER
DESIGN BY PAIGE BENISH
game, and appeared ready to step into the leadership gap left behind by former Hoya guard Micah Peavy, who was drafted 40th overall and now plays for the New Orleans Pelicans.
On March 13, the Georgetown Hoyas (16-18, 6-14 BIG EAST) stepped off the court for the final time in the 20252026 season, leaving behind a streaky record with both energizing highs and hair-pulling lows.
Despite a victory over DePaul (1616, 8-12 BIG EAST) and an upset over Villanova (24-9, 15-5 BIG EAST) in the BIG EAST Tournament, the third round was not the charm for the Hoyas. They left Madison Square Garden at the bottom of the regular season conference rankings after losing to the No. 7 University of Connecticut Huskies (30-5, 17-3 BIG EAST) 67-51 in the semifinals. This is the sixth time in seven years that the Hoyas have finished with a losing record.
The tournament felt like a microcosm of the season as a whole. A surprise upset followed by a game in which the Hoyas never led, reflecting Georgetown’s tendency to show glimmers of hope ultimately dampened by inconsistent scoring. Despite winning two early games against Kentucky and Clemson, from Dec. 31 to Jan. 21 Georgetown lost six conference games in a row, then won the next four before another six-game losing streak began.
The Hoyas had a 44% field goal percentage on the season, and made just 31.8% of their three-pointers. Their free throw percentage was 74%. Considering Georgetown lost at least five games by four points or less, every point matters. In a league with big dogs like St. John’s and UConn, Georgetown needs to at least stay consistent and healthy to stand out.
Junior guard Malik Mack was poised to have a breakout season as a leader on the squad. In the 2024-2025 season he averaged 12.9 points and 4.3 assists per
While Mack was certainly one of the team’s centerpieces, he struggled to fill Peavy’s shoes. Mack started all 34 games this season, averaging 13.6 points per game (PPG), the second highest on the Hoyas behind junior guard KJ Lewis. During the BIG EAST tournament games, with senior center Vince Iwuchukwu playing limited minutes and Lewis out, Mack took on the brunt of their scoring pressure. However, he occasionally seemed hesitant to pass the ball, opting for oft-missed three point shots (he made only three of 13 in the post-season).
next level. One of those factors is crafting the vibrant home fanbase Georgetown once boasted. At the beginning of the season, Cooley emphasized the need for a home-court advantage, telling the Voice he hoped students would “infuse energy and strength” into the arena.
Even opponents suffered from underattendance at home games. After a game at UConn’s Gampel Pavilion on Feb. 15, Cooley said, “Honestly, I was surprised there were empty seats up in some sections. I mean, you’ve got a national championship team. This place should be sold out every day.”
Lewis, who played in 28 games, averaged 14.9 PPG but had fewer overall points than Mack. Iwuchukwu rounded out the top three in scoring with 11.6 PPG, but started only six games. They both missed games for health reasons: Lewis injured his left ankle on Feb. 24 against Marquette, and Iwuchukwu, who suffered cardiac arrest while playing for the University of Southern California in 2022, sat out following a medical procedure in November.
Students, however, might not currently see enough reason to invest in the team. Top-level high school recruits bring significant competitive power to their collegiate programs. Georgetown has not had a five-star recruit since 2014, and Cooley did not recruit any high school graduates for the 2025-2026 season. While transfers like Iwuchukwu and Lewis contributed when they were on the court, injuries kept them off for far too long.
Next season, the team must prioritize consistency. The Hoyas’ second-half play fell flat time after time—largely due to breakdowns in team play. Placing emphasis on passing plays and moving the ball around poises Georgetown to capitalize on individual talent by creating better shooting opportunities for everyone.
Despite the team’s setbacks, graduate guard Jeremiah Williams had nothing but love for head coach Ed Cooley and his brief time with the program.
“Playing for Coach Cooley was an awesome experience. He really cares about us, cares about all the players, all the staff, the support staff,” Williams said in an interview with Georgetown Athletics.
As Georgetown men’s basketball moves into the offseason recruiting process ahead of the 2026-2027 season, that positive team environment can be a draw for transfer players looking to take their game to the
In addition, on March 24, Lewis told sports outlet On3 that he plans to enter the transfer portal after just one year at Georgetown. To build a powerful team, students expect to see retention and player development over a longer period of time—not just a constant recycling of talent.
Still, the BIG EAST Tournament wins over DePaul and Villanova infused muchneeded energy into the end of an otherwise lackluster season. Williams received motivation from the Georgetown support at Madison Square Garden.
Reflecting on the Madison Square Garden atmosphere during their DePaul matchup, Williams said, “It was a great feeling to hear [fans chanting Hoya Saxa. ...] Our fans showed out [...] so it just meant a lot, and it’s going to give us some energy going into tomorrow.”
And they certainly did bring that energy against Villanova before ultimately losing to UConn. Moving forward, the team needs to bottle and feed off of that support to drive themselves forward as they move into the offseason and beyond. !
Women’s basketball season recap: New team, same season
BY JULIA MAURER DESIGN BY PAIGE BENISH
Entering this season, Georgetown women’s basketball (1417, 6-14 BIG EAST) had big shoes to fill with the departure of star guard Kelsey Ransom. She led the team in scoring—averaging 20.4 points per game—and was a force for the team on and off the court.
“She was a big part of our team last year, and she was a big leader in the way she played,” sophomore guard Khadee Hession said in an interview with the Voice at the beginning of the season.
Ransom’s scoring ability was no doubt the reason for much of the team’s success last year, and in her absence, fans entered this season hopeful—yet unsure of who was going to fill her shoes. Of the 15 platers listed on this season’s roster, eight were new transfers or freshmen, and two—graduate forwards Chetanna Nweke and Brianna Scott—had missed the 2024-2025 season with injuries. The new faces on the roster this year gave head coach Darnall Haney a chance to rebuild the team and its systems.
When asked how he planned to replace Ransom in scoring, Haney told the Voice, “Well, it’s gonna be by committee. [Ransom] kind of had to do everything for us last year. This year, you don’t have an individual person who has to do as much as she did.”
Haney’s new recruits. One bright spot was junior guard Khia Miller. Miller averaged nine points per game, second on the team behind Rivera, and, more importantly, brought a level of defensive intensity and energy that the Hoyas desperately needed during many of their games this season.
Miller earned 42 steals and 13 blocks on the season, but the stats don’t show the key moments when Miller forced shot-clock violations, drew offensive fouls, or scored through contact to fire up her team and the crowd. The stats made Miller a good player for the Hoyas, but how she showed up made her integral to the team this season.
Haney was right. This year, none of Georgetown’s players averaged more than ten points per game, with senior guard Victoria Rivera leading the team with 9.4 points per game. Unfortunately for the Hoyas, Rivera played in only nine games this season, her last being against Delaware State University (7-23, 4-10 MEAC) on Dec. 13.
While the Hoyas struggled to find a singular player to consistently perform offensively, there were certainly highlights from the season—most of them coming from
received more attention from opponents, without Ransom drawing defenders away. Nevertheless, Hession averaged just 5.6 points per game, down from 8.1 last year, and she scored in only 10 of 29 games played.
Nevertheless, parts of Hession’s game shone in patches throughout the season, and hopefully she can return with renewed drive to perform offensively and be a key scorer and leader for the Hoyas next year.
Another quieter yet key component of the team was sophomore transfer guard Summer Davis, who played in 27 games this season. While she only averaged 5.2 points per game, when she found the back of the net, she made it count. In a Dec. 7 game at Wake Forest, with just one second left, Davis sank a threepointer to win the game 58-56.
Off the ball, Davis had a big impact as well. She had 36 steals on the season— the fourth-most on the team—and was known for consistently finding her teammates with assists.
The biggest game of Georgetown’s season this year was their first-round win in the BIG EAST tournament over Butler University (12-19, 6-14 BIG EAST). The postseason win came just thirteen days after a loss at home against the Bulldogs. In the rematch, the Hoyas demonstrated a level of intensity that was often only present in flashes in other games, allowing them to edge out a four-point victory.
While the season had highlights, Georgetown struggled in key areas, leading to several losses. Most of all, the Hoyas struggled to find a consistent offensive playmaker. Playing without Rivera, the offensive burden was carried by a few players who often showed up strong in one game, but not another.
Additionally, Hession hit a bit of a sophomore slump. While she was named to the BIG EAST All-Freshman Team last year, this year she was not the key player that she could have been. Much of this is likely attributed to the fact that Hession
Overall, the Hoyas showed improvement both throughout the season and compared to last season. By the end of the 20252026 run, they demonstrated a level of cohesion and an ability to string together four quarters of solid play—something they struggled with in November. They also marginally improved from last season, with a committee working to replace Ransom’s production. Georgetown ended the season 14-17—winning two more games than last year—and once again bowed out of the BIG EAST tournament in the second round.
Looking forward to next season, the Hoyas need to show growth in several key areas. Whether because of new team dynamics or for other reasons altogether, the Hoyas struggled to run systems and plays, and often relied on the talent of individual players creating shots for themselves. Much of next season’s success will rely on the returning roster, as well as who Haney is able to bring in. Notably, Rivera will not be on that returning roster as she has announced her intent to enter the transfer portal as a graduate student.
Currently, Georgetown has at least one committed freshman, power forward Stella Lockhart from St. John Viannay in Holmdel, New Jersey. Lockhart was named MVP in the championship of The Throne national high school basketball tournament.
If this season is any indication though, the Hoyas are likely to pick up several players out of the transfer portal, which does not open until April 6. If Haney is able to recruit well for next season, and more importantly, if he is able to keep key players like Miller and Davis, he has a good chance of making Georgetown a team that can compete with the top teams in the BIG EAST. !
Same origin, different experiences: The lives of twins at Georgetown
BY BRIDGETTE JEONARINE GRAPHICS BY MASHA MILLER; LAYOUT BY LUCY MONTALTI
Before her Georgetown acceptance, Jacqueline Correa (CAS ’29) had committed to Florida State University (FSU). Correa assumed, as a firstgeneration low-income student, that she would be rejected from Georgetown. And if she was accepted, she worried that she would not receive enough financial aid to justify attendance.
During their senior year of high school, her twin sister Bella had planned on staying in their home state of Florida and attending the University of Central Florida, just five hours away from FSU.
“When I committed to FSU, Bella was so happy because she was like, ‘Then we can see each other on the weekends, and we could take the bus up.’ So she was really excited about it,” Correa said.
However, the sisters’ plans changed dramatically when Correa received her acceptance letter from Georgetown. When her financial aid offer made attendance a real possibility, Correa knew that attending Georgetown was something she needed to do for herself, since the location fueled her interests in law. While Bella had expressed a desire for both sisters to attend college in Florida
applied to all the schools she applied to because she wanted to go to college with me,” Correa explained. “I always knew that I would end up out of state and she would end up in-state.”
Jacqueline is not the only Hoya to have experienced the complex reality of the college transition with a sibling that is attached to so many life achievements. The Voice spoke with four twins or triplets attending Georgetown about their experiences navigating college with and without their siblings on campus, finding new communities, and developing their individuality.
Finding their way alone
Though she described them as “best friends,” Correa said that she never felt that she and her twin were tied together as individuals, due to them being fraternal and attending different classes growing up. She explained that they both have their own distinct personalities, with Bella being more introverted.
Though she had prepared for the eventual separation, Correa said that she felt alone after her move-in process.
connect with her extended family as much as her sister, who makes regular weekend visits back to Orlando, their hometown.
As she’s adjusted to college life, Correa said that she particularly misses Bella whenever she is going through a rough time or having a bad day. Back in Florida, the pair would drive around and “rant to each other” about their problems, finding comfort in the familiarity of each other’s presence.
“Now when I’m upset, I can’t be with her in-person. Yes, I could still call her and complain, but it’s different because it’s less intimate,” she said.
However, Correa also said that being away from Bella has pushed her to become more self-sufficient. With her sister no longer there to remind her about deadlines or everyday responsibilities, she’s learned to manage her time and tasks efficiently.
“Bella would help me so much at home with random miscellaneous things,” she said. “So being [at Georgetown] has definitely taught me how to take care of myself better because I always kind of relied on her for that.”
“In the first week of being alone, we would call for hours a day,” she said.
Now, though the pair does not communicate as much as they did before starting college, Correa said she calls or texts her sister every day.
“I think it’s one of those things that even though you’re not with the person 24/7, when you guys see or talk to each other, it’s like no time has passed,” Correa said. She acknowledged that while they try to keep regular contact, there are still parts of her sister’s new life that she does not know. She also expressed disappointment in not being able to
Taking on college together
Though Correa had to learn to be independent, Alyssa and Sophia Koval (MSB ’27) had to relearn how to attend the same institution after spending their freshman year apart. During their senior year of high school, Alyssa had planned to attend Georgetown while Sophia was set to attend Villanova University.
As identical twins, both Alyssa and Sophia said that they had frequently been tied to each other in their youth. For Alyssa, attending Georgetown meant establishing a sense of individuality she had never experienced.
But when Sophia began her freshman year at Villanova, she did not fit into the campus culture as seamlessly as she would have liked. She did not make any immediate plans to transfer, hoping that her feelings would change over time. However, after realizing that Villanova wasn’t the right fit for her, she applied to transfer schools late in the transfer period, leaving her with few options.
Though Alyssa knew Sophia was applying to Georgetown, Sophia did not
immediately let her sister know of her acceptance and plans to attend. During Alyssa’s freshman year move-out, Sophia broke the news to her sister, unsure of how she would react.
“I was so nervous,” Sophia said. “I almost started crying because it’s such a big deal for her to have established herself here and all of a sudden, there’s two of us, and we look exactly the same. It just completely warps your experience.”
Alyssa had a complicated reaction.
“I was excited for her, but felt apprehensive about the change. I knew how much she disliked her previous school, so of course I wanted what was best for her, but for the first time in my life I was able to have my own identity,” Alyssa said.
When discussing her transition to Georgetown, Sophia said that having her sister with her made the process “seamless.” Sophia arrived on campus before most of her classmates to attend a pre-orientation program, and said that when Alyssa arrived for her peer ambassador training, it felt like “a sigh of relief.”
“If I’m overwhelmed, I can be with her, and I also just felt so much less scared to do everything because she was like, ‘I’ll show you.’ Any question I had could easily be answered without me having to reach out to some outside source,” Sophia said. “It was really nice at the start.”
Although they share mutual interests in business, Alyssa and Sophia made a conscious decision to get involved with different clubs. Alyssa joined Georgetown Ventures, a student-run startup accelerator, and Sophia joined the Georgetown University Alumni and Student Federal Credit Union, Georgetown’s student-run banking system. They both said that this separation has been a good way to branch out individually and build separate connections.
Even so, they found that Sophia meshed well with Alyssa’s established friend group, introducing their friends and becoming close with the group over time.
When interacting with peers, Sophia said that she appreciates when individuals make a “visible effort” to distinguish the pair. Now both tour guides for Blue and Gray, Sophia explained that a friend within the group would correct anyone who referred to her and her sister as “the twins.”
“She would really make an effort to make sure that everyone in the club knew we were different people which I had never seen before,” she said. “But I also just stopped caring because [being a twin is] such a big part of my identity.”
For Alyssa, having her sister with her at school has strengthened their bond.
“We have always done everything together, had all the same friends, and been interested in the same things, and nothing has changed since we started attending college together,” Alyssa explained. “We are now able to grow with each other in a different environment.”
While being a twin may come with its own set of unique challenges, Sophia said that she is “really proud” to have this shared identity.
“I wish everybody had that same experience, because my life would be so different without her,” Sophia said.
Siblings near and far
While some twins or triplets find separation to be disorienting, that is not always the case. For Madison Fox-Moore (CAS ’26), closeness is less about physical distances, but rather a shared history and understanding. Madison is a triplet with her sister, Connor, and sibling, Mags.
During their senior year of high school, Fox-Moore said that she and her siblings knew that they all wanted to attend college outside of their hometown in Syracuse, New York. They assumed that they would all end up in different places.
That assumption was only partially correct: Mags committed to Wheaton College in Massachusetts, and after a year of studying in Europe and South America, Connor committed to George Washington University (GW), just a few miles from Georgetown.
Fox-Moore recalled that being apart from her siblings for the first time during her freshman year was difficult after spending so much time together, particularly during the COVID-19 pandemic. She said that spending time away from her siblings “was unimaginable.” They kept in contact by scheduling FaceTimes and texting.
“That first time apart from them was definitely really hard, but I think it made us stronger as siblings. I realized that it’s not just meeting in the same household that makes up for importance,” FoxMoore said.
Her sophomore year, when Connor started attending GW, Madison said she felt she could rely on her for support.
“It was super fun because I was able to introduce her to my friends at Georgetown and to D.C.,” Fox-Moore said. “It was nice for both of us to have that support.”
During their childhood, Fox-Moore said that she and her siblings were almost always referred to as “the triplets.” Like Correa and Koval, she said that coming to Georgetown and not being known for
her identity as one-third of a set was a “jarring, but almost freeing” experience.
“I like that being a triplet is now something that I decide to share with people. It’s a fun fact, but not necessarily who I am,” she said. “It’s been good to reclaim that individuality that I just really never had growing up.”
Last year, Connor graduated one year early from GW and is now living on her own in a new city. Madison said that she now feels a new sense of distance between her siblings.
“I feel for the first time in our lives, we’re not at the same point in life, which is a little bit strange to manage,” she said. “But I can always count on them; they know me better than anyone.”
Beyond the hilltop
Even as their paths begin to diverge, some milestones remain intertwined. In May, Mags and Madison are set to graduate on the same weekend.
Although Fox-Moore and her siblings are planning on following their individual paths—whatever they may be—Correa and the Koval sisters expressed interest in staying with their siblings after their time at Georgetown.
“We have plans to stay together and get an apartment in New York City. If, for some reason, that does not happen,
You’re cute jeans: The denim dilemma
BY JULIA CARVALHO DESIGN BY MAGGIE ZHANG
I bought new jeans.
For those of you who might be confused about the magnitude of that decision, allow me to explain.
I own 75 articles of clothing and am deeply committed to keeping that count consistent. If I purchase new jeans, I have to trade out an older, often beloved pair.
This quota leads back to the Paris Climate Agreement, an international treaty adopted at the 2015 United Nations Climate Change Conference aimed at limiting global warming. The Hot or Cool Institute, a think tank that researches sustainable fashion, released a 2022 report stating that a “su!cient” wardrobe consists of 74 to 85 articles of clothing in order to meet the treaty’s global temperature target.
I did not get my hands on this information via a think tank report—I read it in Vogue. Throughout my tumultuous high school career, I challenged myself to align my lifestyle with my political values (She was 17! She was stuck in the suburbs! She was woke!). That meant adopting sustainable practices I discovered in magazines and condemning myself to a life of minimalism, thus limiting my options when it came to purchasing denim.
Jeans are an unequivocal staple of the teenage American wardrobe and, even beyond, stand at the heart of fashion and culture
around the world: our favorite celebrities model them, beloved characters don them in popular media, and you can buy them virtually anywhere.
Jeans have become a kind of global uniform. Therefore, the nuances of each pair take on greater meaning. We lament the impossible decision between high-rise and low-rise; bootcut and wide leg; light wash or dark. We scrutinize the number sewn into the waistband, hoping that if we stare at it long enough it might just get smaller.
The denim we wear communicates parts of ourselves to the outside world, providing others with a system to categorize us within a universal standard.
Somewhere along the way, the “jean” became less of a pant and more of a physical manifestation of who we are, or hope to be. The right pair of jeans has the ability to distinguish you from the masses and transform you into the most authentic version of yourself (plus make your butt look good).
Turns out, my denim dilemma wasn’t a phase. Ironically, minimalism continues to take up space in my life, requiring attention and intention. And, this lifestyle does complicate matters when I choose to buy something new.
Thankfully, I was able to find two new pairs of jeans that I liked without a problem. Now, I am immersed in the painstaking process of determining which of my old pairs I am going to donate or recycle. Let’s take a look at the contenders:
1) My mom bought me two pairs of Hollister’s “Ultra High-Rise Dad” jeans before I started working as a busser in a local restaurant. Nearly four years later, they’re falling down, worn with holes, and still smell faintly of a Jojo’s Crispy Chicken Sandwich. Since leaving the restaurant, I struggle to remember what my life was like before passing periods with a parade of Longchamp bags and 80 pages of nightly reading. These jeans feel like the last piece of what once
was, a lifeline to the world that I know best and love most.
2) I took a pair of my mom’s bootcut Lucky Brand jeans with me when I moved out. Growing up, these pants were the epitome of class and sophistication. They were my mom’s “nice” jeans, something she bought but couldn’t necessarily afford, and were to be treated as such. I watched closely as she transformed into a different woman each time she slipped them on. No longer a single working mother worn thin, but a dazzling woman whose passion for life commanded attention. Part of me hopes these jeans will do for me what they did for her: transform the mundane into the near-sacred. Unfortunately, I’m not yet my mother, so her jeans now suffer from a tear in the knee from a fall on the sidewalk and charcoal stains from my evening drawing class.
3) As a recent high school graduate, I purchased vintage Levi’s from a British e-consignment shop. This marked my entrance into the climate movement: I was standing for something, crafting tangible change. Were the carbon emissions emitted transporting a pair of pants across the world greater than if I just bought some at Target? Probably. Do they fit me well? Not at all. Is it time for them to go? I’m still attached. I still don’t know what to swap out. I’ve carefully pressed and folded my new jeans, and there is little room in my dresser for the old. Staying true to my commitment, it’s time to let go—not of the life I’ve lived, the people I’ve loved, and the things I’ve stood for—but the ratty, ill-fitting pants that barely pass as acceptable in public.
In the last year, I moved out, left my hometown, sold my childhood home, and my family started over in a new place. As I change, I think it makes sense for my wardrobe to do the same—not on the premise of the latest trend, but in accordance with the person I’m becoming.
While my old jeans, and the person who wore them, have served me well, I’m looking to allow the present to take up more space. I want each of my precisely 75 articles of clothing to reflect where I’m going, rather than memorializing where I’m coming from. There is a time and place for heartbreaking nostalgia, but there’s also a planet to save—and I just don’t have the room in my closet.
Be comfortable with stupidity—stop using AI to sound smart.
BY ELAINE CLARKE
DESIGN BY SHABAD SINGH; LAYOUT BY PAIGE BENSH
Iwould rather fail a test than use AI.
To get vulnerable with a real-life example, I recently did mediocre on a history test. Since I didn’t study for the exam as much as I could have, I did not get an ideal grade. But, I’ve made my peace with this: I got the grade I put the work in for.
Of course, I could have turned to other resources to prepare for this test beyond speed reading everything from the start of the semester and taking sad, last-minute notes on it. While I wallowed away in Lauinger Library hopelessly unprepared, some of my classmates likely did turn to other tools—namely generative artificial intelligence (AI).
I hate ChatGPT as much as the next Luddite, but I do recognize its merits when it comes to making tedious work more efficient. Study guides, discussion responses, reading summaries—they come much easier when you just ask “Chat” to do the unexciting tasks for you.
Despite the efficiency of AI, I argue that it is imperative to do this work yourself to preserve your integrity and pursue knowledge. Copying homework that AI copied from others, checking your grammar with its (often inaccurate) software, and asking it hyper-specific questions instead of your expert professor are strategies counterintuitive to the aims of higher education.
In my view, the entire purpose of college is to gain knowledge, experience, and skills that will grow you into your complete and full personhood—or what Jesuits call cura personalis. Whether this is through taking classes that deepen your intellectual passions, adventuring into the world with newfound adult freedom, or getting out of your comfort zone through joining clubs on campus, college is a time when you have incredible opportunities and liberties to wholly explore yourself.
After two years at Georgetown, however, I’ve found many seem to treat college as an achievement to put on their resume rather than an opportunity to
grow. While getting a job is important, going to college is a privilege many don’t have—but still some Hoyas speed through homework and check o just to finish their degree, instead of thoughtfully engaging with courses that others dream of being in.
Recently, Georgetown Interim President Robert Groves announced the university will offer Google’s AI assistant, Gemini, “to support research, pedagogy, and administrative work.” However, this implementation of AI seems to contradict the university’s stated mission of an AI platform into our university’s dayto-day will only encourage students’ dependence on a machine to replace the act of learning.
Yes, it is easier to summarize 60 pages of assigned reading with Gemini, but you are better off learning the art of skimming—searching for patterns and quickly finding the necessary, important information. Although skimming is another form of cutting corners, it is a skill that allows you to connect deeper with the text and draw conclusions relevant to your unique thoughts, rather than having a machine regurgitate generic summaries. The introduction of university-sanctioned AI conforms to the culture of treating the degree as a stepping-stone to the workplace.
While some Hoyas may use AI in certain courses to make time for their passions in other subjects or activities, in general, students in America have been engaging less with their class studies. A 2016 study found that students spent an average of 19.3 hours per week in class or on homework, compared to an average of 24 hours per week in 1961. At universities like Georgetown, many students fill their time with extracurricular activities.
Georgetown is a campus with an ultra-intense, hyper-competitive preprofessional club culture. Instead of clubs acting as spaces to grow and meet people with similar interests, they too have
to be uncomfortable in order to grow. Learning requires accepting that you don’t know things. Instead of exacerbating environmental damage with AI usage, ask your classmates or professors for help, even if it’s intimidating. Connecting further with your professors by attending office hours and bonding with your classmates over a particularly difficult class not only advances your learning, but can also make Georgetown feel more like home. Being comfortable with your ignorance pushes you to put yourself out there, instead of artificially sounding “right” with your chatbot of choice. Take a chance and speak up in class even when you aren’t sure of the right answer, because we learn best when we make mistakes, not when we get things right. Even when you are overworked, growing requires failure. It can be hard to balance clubs with schoolwork, but part of being an adult is learning to take responsibility for your commitments instead of delegating tasks to AI.
Georgetown University was founded on the idea of educating the whole person, not a machine. Our community should remember that mission so we don’t lose sight of the joys that come with being a part of a learning community. College is a privilege that is wasted if completion takes priority over comprehension. I implore you, Georgtown—let’s become comfortable with our own stupidity.
Age, Jennette McCurdy is twice as candid
BY ALEX LALLI AND JACOB GARDNER
DESIGN BY LUCY MONTALTI
Content warning: this article discusses grooming and sexual content.
After debuting her Nickelodeon breakaway with a witty yet harrowing memoir, I’m Glad My Mom Died, Jennette McCurdy returns with her first novel—and another pithy title that speaks for itself— Half His Age
The novel follows Waldo, a socially isolated teenager living in Alaska who becomes increasingly entangled in a relationship with her creative writing teacher, Mr. Korgy. Though Half His Age is fiction and I’m Glad My Mom Died is a memoir, their emotional DNA is unmistakable; both explore female rage and fractured authority. The key difference lies in perspective. Where the memoir offers retrospective clarity, the novel withholds it.
From a technical perspective, McCurdy’s structural choices are among the novel’s most compelling features. In its 288 pages, Half His Age contains more than 50 chapters, creating a tense, fragmented reading experience that suits its provocative and ethically fraught subject matter. Scenes arrive and vanish quickly, mirroring Waldo’s impulsive, restless psychology. Yet that same velocity comes at a cost: while the novel attempts to engage with sex, class, loneliness, power, internet culture, and digital-age validation, its short chapters
often leave those themes underdeveloped.
Still, the form ective.
McCurdy said in an interview with Interview Magazine that Half His Age is “not at all focused on the taboo itself,” but rather on the experience as a whole, and the structure reinforces that aim. Rather than building toward a clear moral thesis, the book accumulates fragments of shame, thrill, self-justification, and humiliation. The reader experiences the relationship as Waldo does: piecemeal, confusing, and contradictory.
Although the novel does not hinge on shock value alone, the glaring taboo of the student-teacher, age-gap relationship provides an avenue to grapple with Waldo’s relationship with sex. In the task of “courting” Mr. Korgy, Waldo experiments with just how much she can push the boundaries of her sexual prowess, gaining a newfound sense of her sexuality through powerplay. She bends Korgy against his family, his profession, his morals, just for the chance to sleep with her.
McCurdy hardly advocates for such a relationship, though, and she certainly doesn’t romanticize it. If anything, Waldo’s sexuality is clawing, carnal, and absurd. Often, age-gap romances set the younger woman up to be “taught” by her older partner, a naiveté which is fetishized and blatantly exploited. But Waldo never feels like Mr. Korgy’s sexual pupil or plaything. She appears “in control,” completely intent on using her sex to claim an indulgent, forbidden fantasy. Of course, Waldo is still a victim, and Mr. Korgy is at fault. But if we accept that base moral wrong, McCurdy presents us with a more interesting look into the internal power struggle of female sexuality.
Intertwined with this exploration of sexuality is a concern with consumerism and the marketing of personal fulfillment. Waldo’s sex is in many ways a frantic chase for fulfillment that is inextricable from the capitalist culture that feeds off of it. Waldo frequently masturbates to tacky, ad-plastered products you could buy at a CVS or a Chili’s. She grinds on a bottle of TUMS, gets off to designer cologne, and in one of the novel’s more visceral moments, sticks her “chili-cheese-stained” fingers
inside herself. All of these experiences elicit a stinging discomfort, a mismatch of what many would consider to be selfpleasure. Waldo acts as a masochist, shoving out-of-place objects inside her body to try to make herself whole.
The way Waldo shops also mirrors this desire. While getting ready for a date with Mr. Korgy, Waldo tears through her closet “like a madwoman,” searching for what she calls “different identities,” each with the promise to fill the void of what she cannot be or have. The scene evokes Cassie’s ever-relatable Euphoria (2019–present) morning routine, or more recently, The Substance (2024), where beauty devolves into violent self-sabotage.
Ultimately, Waldo admits that her desperation is perhaps her object of pleasure. She confesses that sex is the only context in which she can “want” without the limits of societal judgement or her credit card: “The one place where my needs aren’t too big and all my yearning is acceptable. The one place where I can show how deep the well is within me. The void. The one place where I can beg and whine and scream to have it be filled.”
Here, McCurdy captures perhaps one of the most honest, unmitigated accounts of sex in recent years. Despite Waldo’s frequent frustration with and disgust of her mother’s self-proclaimed addiction to men who can’t seem to love her back, as the novel progresses, Waldo becomes more willing to admit to that same destructive need. In naming that void so plainly, McCurdy renders sex as an excavation, an attempt to reach the bottom of a need Waldo slowly realizes she has inherited from her mother.
It is this same unflinching attention to desire and self-perception that allows Half His Age to function almost as a bildungsroman, or coming-of-age novel. Waldo’s coming-of-age unfolds not simply through romance or rebellion but through consumption, surveillance, and the performativity of modern life. Waldo believes she is exceptional, mature, and capable of handling an adult relationship, when in fact that belief reveals her vulnerability.
In this sense, Waldo’s growth comes not through triumph but disillusionment. What first feels like agency gradually reveals itself to be desperation; the novel’s arc follows her recognition that the power she’d imagined she had was never really hers.
Evidently, Half His Age does not clarify so much as it accumulates. In doing so, it captures something rare: the uneasy realization that what once felt like control was never control at all.
T WICE raised me. Now it’s time to let them go
BY CHIH - RONG KUO
GRAPHICS BY MARIAM OKUNOLA; LAYOUT BY MAGGIE ZHANG
Content warning: this article contains mention of depression and suicide.
For many Gen Alpha kids, the Korean pop (K-pop) group TWICE may only be known for contributing vocals to the soundtrack of KPop Demon Hunters (2025), which recently won two Oscars. But the band, which celebrated its 10th year in 2025, shows no signs of slowing down as it delivers its fourth world tour in a ferocious display of stamina, vocals, and charisma.
When TWICE announced they were coming to D.C. for the first time ever, my friends and I appointed a brave representative who eagerly waited for hours on the Ticketmaster website, hoping to score us decent seats. For the band, D.C. was just another leg of its fourth world tour, “This is For.” But for me, it was the culmination of eight years of anticipation and fandom frenzy. Yet, I also suspected it might be the moment to say goodbye to my fanfare days.
Before the success of KPop Demon Hunters, major hits like “APT.”, and the adoption of the K-pop model by nonKorean girl groups like Katseye, being a K-pop fan was, at best, a niche interest and, at worst, embarrassing. The only acceptable forms of Asian representation at the time were on the screen, and even then, many portrayed side characters— think Cho Chang from the Harry Potter franchise and London Tipton on The Suite Life of Zack and Cody (2005-2008). It felt like no one wanted to listen to Asian singers, especially if the songs were sung in Korean, even if decorated in glitzy choreography and hooks.
youthfulness and novelty. For TWICE to remain at the top of its career for its 11th year is an impressive feat, but its longstanding success isn’t by chance.
TWICE’s concept has been striking since its debut. Composed of nine members—five Korean members, three Japanese members, and one member from Taiwan, the group was a trailblazer in opening up the Japanese and global music markets. I got sucked into TWICE because of member Chou Tzuyu, a fellow Taiwanese person, and the first Taiwanborn K-pop idol. Although I’m not Korean, I felt a surge of pride when “locals” (nonK-pop Twitter users) would discover a
as academic pressure built and COVID restrictions in Hong Kong, where I lived, emerged. Soon, I was stuck in front of a computer screen for seven hours a day until even the energy to turn on Zoom felt too taxing. My mom would play TWICE’s “Wake Me Up” in the morning to get me out of bed, and she’d encourage me to learn their dances to keep me active. Even my sister, who was a vocal hater of K-pop, learned the names of the nine members and would play Buzzfeed quizzes about the group with me.
TWICE song and enjoy it.
I rarely discussed K-pop at school or with friends, and confined my interest to the digital realm. Subsequently, I grew up on the battlefields of K-pop “stan” Twitter in the late 2010s, witnessing K-pop groups rise and fall amid bullying controversies and poor management.
The K-pop industry is brutal, precarious, and gendered. Korean boy groups often weather membership changes, shifting artistic concepts, and military enlistment, remaining active decades after their debut. However, girl groups often phase out within seven years—the typical length of an initial contract—or less, due to the additional pressure to maintain
It felt as if the broader Asian community rallied in solidarity to celebrate K-Pop’s wide-reaching success.
Yet, I don’t think I’ve been a fan of TWICE for so long just because of its cultural impact. In truth, they were interwoven with every step of my adolescence, especially shaping my journey with mental health. In July of 2019, member Mina Myoi announced a hiatus due to medical concerns related to extreme anxiety. That same year, two prominent K-pop idols, Sulli and Goo Hara, died by suicide, raising concerns about the impact of the K-pop industry on idols’ mental health.
In late 2019, I was diagnosed with anxiety and fell into a destructive slump
Later, when I was looking for a roommate on CHARMS, Georgetown’s internal roommate selection app, I searched for “TWICE” on a whim, and ended up with the roommate that I’m still living with three years later (it’s no secret that our New South dorm was a TWICE shrine).
Myoi’s return to TWICE with a live performance of “Feel Special,” a song with intensely personal lyrics that broke through the traditionally opaque barrier between idol and fans, preceded my own recovery, and made me feel like I could get better. Six years later, those same tears flooded my eyes as I drank in TWICE’s encore of the song at Capital One Arena.
Looking around the arena, I realized the demographic of Onces (TWICE fans) has changed drastically. People of all ages and races crowded the seats. Some looked to be Asian college kids like me who grew up listening to TWICE. Others brought coworkers or friends, appearing to be enjoying a casual night out. Most notably, there were groups of preteens in wigs and full costumes as Rumi, Mira, and Zoey from KPop Demon Hunters.
As I stepped out of the arena, I felt a flush of tiredness rush over me. I had internship applications, midterms coming up the following week, and club commitments to worry about. I love them, but I can’t remember the last time I retweeted about TWICE. Walking away, I kissed a grateful goodbye to the group that stayed with me over many idle and anxiety-ridden nights. I caught a glimpse of a group of children next to me, unashamedly singing and dancing to the song “Strategy,” and I thought to myself, “We’ll be just fine.”
