Boston University Archives - Boston Magazine https://www.bostonmagazine.com/tag/boston-university/ Sun, 22 Feb 2026 22:11:04 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 https://bomag.o0bc.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2017/10/cropped-boston-magazine-favicon-32x32.png Boston University Archives - Boston Magazine https://www.bostonmagazine.com/tag/boston-university/ 32 32 Why Boston Is Becoming the World’s Next Leading Longevity Hub https://www.bostonmagazine.com/health/2025/03/28/boston-longevity-research/ Fri, 28 Mar 2025 13:00:59 +0000

Illustration by Benjamen Purvis

While Silicon Valley chases immortality pills and uploads consciousness to the cloud, Boston has quietly become ground zero for actually living longer, better lives. As part of our April issue on aging well, here are how three academic institutions are helping the city become the world’s next longevity hub.

At Boston University, they’ve discovered centenarians’ secret isn’t what they do—it’s what they don’t.

What began as a mild curiosity for Thomas Perls turned into his life’s work. While a Harvard geriatrics fellow, he was assigned a group of patients at Hebrew Rehabilitation Center in Jamaica Plain, including two people more than 100 years old. Wanting to speak with them, he assumed they would be easy to locate, likely confined to their beds due to their age. Not so: The 102-year-old woman was in high demand playing piano on different floors each day, and the 101-year-old man, a lifelong tailor, was teaching his craft to younger patients and staff. Perls would have to make an appointment just to get on their busy schedules. Fascinated by their vitality, he launched the New England Centenarian study in the mid-’90s, which has been based at Boston University since the early aughts and is now the world’s largest and most comprehensive study of centenarians and their families. At first, Perls’s biggest hurdle was finding enough 100-year-olds. He first checked voter records before discovering a critical shortcut: local newspapers, which frequently celebrated people’s 100th birthdays on the front page. Now, after 32 years, Perls has studied those who’ve lived past 100, 105, and 110, finding that they often don’t develop many health problems until their mid-nineties and that their age-related illnesses are very compressed at the end of their lives. What separates Perls’s research from others is his focus not on what causes diseases, but what prevents them.

Also at BU, they’re fundamentally changing longevity research.

George Murphy, cofounder and codirector of BU’s Center for Regenerative Medicine (CReM), found Perls’s approach compelling. Ten years ago, Murphy had developed a groundbreaking technique to create master stem cells from blood samples without using embryonic tissue. At first, his team applied this method to develop treatments for heart and lung disease, but their focus eventually shifted. “We kind of turned everything on its head a couple of years ago, at the behest of collaborating with Tom, and started harnessing all the power of our center away from disease to resilience. Everybody gets exposed to diseases throughout their lives but vary in the way they respond to these things.” Inspired by centenarians’ ability to evade age-related diseases better than others, Murphy and his team are now studying the genes and factors that prevent people from getting sick and developing therapeutics that can help people live longer.

MIT AgeLab. / Courtesy

At MIT, they’re making aging better—and having a blast doing it.

Walking into MIT’s AgeLab is a bit like entering a real-life Pee-wee’s Playhouse. You are greeted by the host, founder and director Joseph Coughlin, an exuberant man in a natty pastel sports coat and bow tie who can’t wait to show off his toys. Most immediately eye-catching is “Miss Daisy,” a full-size, cherry-red VW Beetle that is actually a driving simulator, or as Coughlin jokes, “a several-­million-dollar video game.” While driving Miss Daisy, some of the AgeLab’s thousands of participants each year face a large external ­projection screen that simulates different weather and driving conditions, which, as you navigate and steer, lets Coughlin and his researchers “track your eyes, reaction time, attention, pulse rate, skin conductance, palm sweat, and ultimately how stressed you are under certain conditions,” he says. Coupled with the AgeLab’s collaborations with government transportation officials and car companies such as ­Volkswagen, the technology allows for the study of various age-related issues (including impaired vision and the impact of medications on focus and reaction time) so products can be modified accordingly for older people, allowing them to do the things they’ve always done.

Next up is AGNES (age gain now empathy system), a full-body suit that Coughlin says “gives you the joys of feeling two or three chronic conditions that you’re likely to experience in your late seventies and early eighties. To understand and feel the friction, fatigue, and frustration that older adults with arthritic hands or diabetic neuropathy feel.” Pepsi, Coke, General Mills, and GlaxoSmithKline, as well as auto manufacturers like Daimler, have all used AGNES to develop aging-friendly consumer product packaging, including over-the-counter medicines. Notably, CVS redesigned its new stores with lower shelving, wider aisles, and higher-contrast “lollipop signs” after consulting with AGNES.

With 11 students and 32 full-time staffers, Coughlin and his colleagues at the MIT AgeLab are clearly having fun doing serious business. “MIT is about envisioning and inventing the future. I want the AgeLab to write a new narrative of a 100-year life,” Coughlin says, adding that it’s about “setting the agenda for what 100 good years could be.” In some ways, he already has: His latest book, Longevity Hubs, shows how Boston’s unique mix of aging residents, universities, businesses, and government programs focused on seniors led Inc. Magazine to call it the “Silicon Valley for the octogenarian set.”

At Tufts University, they know what’s on your plate determines your fate.

Dariush Mozaffarian delivers a straightforward message: “Eat your veggies.” Or, as the director of the Tufts Food Is Medicine Institute more eloquently puts it, “It’s no secret—we all know what leads to longevity. It’s a very simple recipe of a healthy diet, physical activity, good sleep, low mental stress, and having meaning in life.” So rather than looking for a magic molecule or breaking down the components into some form of pill, he says his institute looks for “very real and practical ways to help people eat healthier food.”

Much of the organization works with healthcare systems and policymakers to bring “food-based nutritional therapies into healthcare,” as Mozaffarian puts it. The goal is simple: Doctors should be able to prescribe “a medically tailored meal, grocery basket, or fresh produce” that insurance covers, like drugs or surgery, or reimburses for, like gym memberships. Right now, the institute is bringing together healthcare providers, government officials, and nonprofit and business leaders to work on a variety of projects, including improving the nutritional quality of food assistance programs such as SNAP, WIC, and school meals. “Through healthcare, federal nutrition programs, and healthy food policies,” Mozaffarian says, “we could pretty radically improve health and longevity in this country.”

This piece was first published as part of a package in the print edition of the April 2025 issue with the headline: “Live Long and Prosper.”

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The New Boston University President Is a Renaissance Scholar’s Dream https://www.bostonmagazine.com/news/2024/11/21/melissa-gilliam-new-bu-president/ Thu, 21 Nov 2024 12:00:10 +0000 https://www.bostonmagazine.com/?p=2786609

Photo by Janice Checchio for Boston University Photography

Most teens dream of celeb encounters. Melissa Gilliam? She spent time as a kid lounging on Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s living room couch (perks of her friend’s mom being a judicial icon). But for this Washington, DC, wunderkind, rubbing elbows with the Notorious RBG was just the opening act. Fresh from her stint as Ohio State’s executive VP and provost, Gilliam’s résumé reads like a renaissance scholar’s dream: college bigwig, educator, research whiz, and doctor who spent her early days as a pediatric and adolescent gynecologist, championing young women’s health. Now steering the ship at Boston University as its president, Gilliam has a boatload of ideas for the future of the school—but if you ask her, the best thing about Boston is simply being surrounded by water.

First of all, do you make your family call you “Madam President”?
[Laughs.] I’m lucky if they call me and ask, “Mom, what time is dinner?”

If you had to choose three adjectives to describe your leadership style, what would they be?
I think I’m collaborative. Humanistic. I care a lot about people. And I’m radically optimistic. My husband calls it toxically optimistic. [Laughs.]

What made you want to come to BU?
When they called me about this job, I picked up the phone, and they talked about this amazing institution that could do even more amazing things. It was sort of step-by-step. I wasn’t looking or saying, “Boy, I want to be at BU.” It was more like, “That’s intriguing. And that’s intriguing.” And then I followed the breadcrumbs, and I found this amazing institution at the end.

You have tremendous style. What’s your signature?
Do you know what I wear all the time? Hoop earrings. That’s my thing.

Person you most admire, living or dead?
It depends on the day of the week. So what’s today? [Laughs.] I think about Congressman John Lewis a lot. It helps me a lot, especially in difficult times. My mom’s an inspiration. My father’s an inspiration.

You have degrees from Yale, Oxford, Harvard, and the University of Illinois. Are they all on the wall of your office?
Not a single one is on my wall. You carry your degrees inside of you. I don’t need them on my wall.

Courtesy Boston University

Your father was an artist, and your mother was a journalist. What made you want to become a doctor?
When I was young, it was about wanting to make a difference in the world. And then I started graduate school, and I thought I’d keep my nose directly in the books. But again, I had this sense that I wanted to do something that would really have an impact on society, so I stopped. I did all of my medical school interviews, completed a master’s degree, and went to medical school. It was about trying to have a direct impact on other people’s lives.

Has women’s health historically taken a back seat when it comes to research and funding?
Absolutely. Statistically it has. There’s been an effort to try and correct it, but what’s also happened is that women haven’t been included as much in clinical trials. We don’t include pregnant women in clinical trials to the extent that we should. So we don’t have the knowledge.

What prompted your initial transition from gynecology to the administrative side of higher education?
Well, I always had an administrative role, while I’d also see patients and do research. Then, in 2016, the University of Chicago asked me to come into the central administration, and initially, I really didn’t want to. But then I thought, “Maybe I’ll learn something.” I also didn’t actually have to quit my other two jobs, so I was able to be in higher ed leadership, still do research, and still see patients. Then, when the pandemic came, I suddenly had to leave the operating room. I had to leave the clinic. And I realized I was still okay. I could be in higher education only and still feel fulfilled. I think I needed the pandemic to cut the cord.

Do you miss seeing patients?
I do. It’s wonderful sitting across from a teenager and really getting to talk about her life. And then I had a large part of my practice that was taking care of patients with disabilities, and so I don’t get to do that anymore. I miss that.

Photo by Jackie Ricciardi for Boston University Photography

Your areas of professional expertise are sort of at the intersection of everything that’s happening in the current political discourse. The repeal of Roe v. Wade, healthcare, campus protests… does that feel overwhelming to you?
I think about it in a couple of ways. The first is that I have expertise in working with adolescents and young adults, and I find that’s a good thing to ground myself during this time. But in terms of having navigated protests and things like that, it makes you realize that you have to take the long view. These are moments. They’re episodes, and they pass, sort of in waves. So part of what I’m doing is really focusing on the long-term and what’s important about a university and running an educational institution. I think, in many ways, my experience gives me perspective.

What are your thoughts on the repeal of Roe v. Wade?
It saddens me. It just saddens me.

How do you intend to handle the inevitable campus protests?
There are three things. The first is to really engage deeply with the students. I spend a lot of time listening and talking to students, trying to understand what they want and what they’re thinking. But the second thing is that it’s really about making sure we get the work of the university done, which is to educate students and create knowledge. I want to make sure that we protect people’s right to free speech, but at the same time, be sure that we’re doing the day-to-day work of the institution. And the third thing is that this should be a time of learning about the issues, so how do we give people the opportunity, even amid all of this, to learn and actually understand the issues, as opposed to forming opinions without having the opportunity to learn and discuss. We’ll definitely be creating forums for discussion.

Do you own a lot of your father’s artwork?
Yeah, a fair amount. My sisters and I own some together, and then I own some of it on my own.

Do you have any artistic inclinations?
Yes. I’m a ceramicist. I started working at BU in July, and I realized I have to figure out a new solution for a studio. It’ll probably need to be in my basement. At times, I’ve had studios in my backyard. When you’re really busy, you have to have something very nearby to be able to keep doing it.

Your mom started working as a reporter at 17. What was your first job?
Working at a store called In the Bag. I sold bags—luggage, handbags, all sorts of things. It was really fun because it was in Georgetown, and I got to talk to all the different people who came in. I would meet the rich and famous or the person who just broke the strap on her purse and needed a new one. It was interesting.

You’re clearly a super high achiever. Do you feel like you need to measure up to your parents?
Well, it’s funny, when you grow up in Washington, DC—I tell the story of being dropped off at my friend James’s house and sitting on the couch with his mom, who was Ruth Bader Ginsburg. I literally rode in the carpool with Judith Viorst, who wrote Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, and the carpool in the story was my carpool. In DC, you grow up with the kids of congresspeople and senators, so I never thought much of it.

Any thoughts on student-debt forgiveness?
Debt forgiveness? That’s the government’s issue. But for us as an institution, we really want to pay attention to debt at graduation. My goal is for students to graduate and be able to do what they want to do with their lives, so the less debt, the better. I would love it if the government would pay. But I also understand the logistics there, so part of what we want to do as a university is to continue to think about that. And BU is fantastic. At this point, we’re spending $500 million a year on scholarships and institutional aid. That’s about a $300 million increase in the past decade alone. So we take it really seriously.

What was the thing about BU that surprised you the most?
I wasn’t aware of its scientific excellence. I knew it was strong, but this is a place where they have literally created new fields. There’s a creativity and an imagination that I just hadn’t anticipated. And the reason is because, a lot of times, you hear, “This place is a powerhouse,” or “That place is a powerhouse.” BU has been more modest, so you don’t realize what amazing things are happening here until you look more closely.

Photo by Janice Checchio for Boston University Photography

It’s a city university. Do you think there’s a difference between that and a more bucolic academic campus?
I spent two years at Oxford. It’s a tiny city. You’re away from everything, right? It’s a little bit removed from the world, and you can imagine you’re in summer camp. I love that feeling. But at BU, we are part of the city. We look at the city. We think about the city. And we have a particular role to play within that urban landscape. That will be a really big focus of what we do.

How so?
I think there’s a really nice aspect to do with having a medical school and Boston Medical Center, being able to care for the poor and underserved. So it’s not just that we’re urban. It’s our relationship to the city. We’ve always been integrated in a way that I think many universities haven’t had to be. We’ve always been very dependent on the city for infrastructure and for the way that we work, and we expanded over time. It’s always been a part of Boston, built out of Boston. A lot of our buildings are things like former car dealerships.

Do you have a favorite building or place on BU’s campus?
I really love our new Center for Computing and Data Science. That’s kind of an easy one because it’s our architectural marvel, the stacked-books building. It’s a net-zero building, completely sustainable. It’s helpful when I talk about the future and what’s possible to point at that building and say, “We can do this.”

What do you consider your biggest challenge at BU?
I think right now it’s, well, the euphemism is “deferred maintenance.” We have a big campus with lots of old buildings that we’ve acquired, and we have people in spaces where they can’t necessarily do their best work. So I’m trying to improve that.

Any other major goals that you have for your presidency?
Just one? [Laughs.] I have several. One tremendous goal involves the medical school. I want to really create a great alignment with our medical center and make it one of the premier medical schools, in conjunction with the medical center, in the country. We have so much potential, and we’re already doing such great things. I’ll also focus a lot on those operational things I’ve been describing, the infrastructure and the labs, and recruiting faculty.

What’s your favorite thing about Boston?
I’m really excited about being surrounded by so much water. It’s just so beautiful.

Most important question of all: Have you sworn allegiance to Boston sports teams?
I have sworn allegiance to Terrier hockey. We have a great athletics program, and I am completely down with it. Seriously, though, having come from Ohio State and seeing how athletics can be the tie that binds, I’m so excited about our scholar-athletes here. That’s where my allegiance is.


By the Numbers

BU All Stars

Boston’s largest university has produced some exceptional individuals.

129

Number of Grammy Award–winning alumni.

17

Number of former BU players who were on the NHL roster for opening night last season.

3

Number of former BU students who appeared on the Time 100 Most Influential People and Time 100 Next lists in 2023.

2

Number of alumni—Martin Luther King Jr. and Óscar Arias Sánchez, former president of Costa Rica—who have won the Nobel
Peace Prize.

21

Number of Pulitzer Prize–winning journalists who have graduated
from BU.

First published in the print edition of Boston magazine’s November 2024 with the headline, “Brainiac in Chief.”


Previously

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How October 7 Galvanized Boston’s Jewish Community https://www.bostonmagazine.com/news/2024/10/03/october-7-jewish-community/ Thu, 03 Oct 2024 12:00:11 +0000 https://www.bostonmagazine.com/?p=2783537

Illustration by Benjamen Purvis / Image via Getty Images

Mia was a high school sophomore living north of Boston when her life changed in an instant on October 7, 2023, the day Hamas militants launched an attack on Israel, killing nearly 1,200 people and taking some 250 hostages, including young children and elderly people. Over the next few weeks, Mia—who, like many Jewish people, has a strong connection to Israel—couldn’t stop thinking about the unspeakable brutality of the attack; it haunted her every hour of the day.

But while Mia’s friends in Israel constantly called her with frightening updates, her high school friends, who had no connection to Jews or Palestinians, were very upfront about their pro-Palestinian views—views that only strengthened as Israel retaliated with its scorched-earth military campaign in Gaza. That made Mia, whose name has been changed to protect her identity for fear of reprisal, feel a sense of isolation and fear, emotions she’d never really felt before. She’d always proudly worn her Star of David necklace, but after the Hamas attack, she left it at home or tucked it underneath her shirt. “I didn’t think that my Judaism set me aside from my classmates,” she says, but after October 7, “I started feeling very on edge.”

Soon, Mia’s mother began to worry about her daughter. A few weeks after the attack, she took Mia to an event at Gann Academy, a Jewish high school in Waltham, where local teenagers were invited to discuss what they were going through. During the car ride, Mia didn’t think much about where they were heading; she’d bottled up her emotions for so long. But once she was in a room among other Jewish kids, sharing their thoughts and fears in a safe place, she watched her own feelings being put into words. “There was so much raw emotion in the room that I hadn’t seen in so long,” she says. “It was really, really comforting and affected me a lot more than I thought it would.”

As they walked out of the meeting, Mia asked her mother if she could transfer to Gann for the spring semester.

Mia’s mix of emotions reflected how many Jewish Bostonians processed the days and months after October 7, a time when the region’s college campuses became epicenters of anti-Israel protests and antisemitism—blatant or inadvertent. On the day of the attack, nearly three dozen student groups at Harvard cosigned a letter in the Harvard Crimson blaming the Jewish state for the violence inflicted against its citizens—a letter which, given the complexity of the region’s history, many people defined as antisemitic. Soon, college campuses, including Harvard and MIT, were overtaken by pro-Palestinian encampments. Meanwhile, across the region, there were reports of bomb threats to synagogues, swastikas being painted on roads and school property, and harassment of Jewish people in public spaces. All of this was underscored by the Atlantic’s April cover story by Franklin Foer—who has a brother living in the Boston area—declaring that the golden age for American Jews was ending.

In sum, October 7 was a pivotal moment for Boston’s Jews, leading many to reevaluate everything from their identity and connection to Israel to their most basic political beliefs. In an effort to understand how much things have changed over the past year, we asked dozens of people, from rabbis to community organizers to worried mothers and fathers, to share their deeply personal stories. Together, they describe a people who are keenly aware of rising antisemitism but also deeply divided on their commitment to the Jewish state—even as, more than anything else, they yearn for unity.

Growing up as a non-observant Jew in Newton, Todd Bresler remembers the moment some 30 years ago when his father sat him down and told him that one day he would have to defend Israel. “It’s going to happen in your lifetime,” his dad warned. “Be ready for it.”Bresler, whose grandfather was a Holocaust survivor, had been taught that one of Israel’s primary functions is to provide a safe haven for Jews when antisemitism boils over, which has happened with frequency over the course of history. Since the Romans conquered Jerusalem some 2,000 years ago, Jews, who were indigenous to the region, have lived in diaspora. They’ve found temporary homes in Russia, Europe, North Africa, and Asia, but their safety has never been guaranteed. As a minority clinging to unique traditions and values, they are often regarded with suspicion and have been among the first ethnic groups to be attacked during times of economic or political instability.

The movement to establish a Jewish state began in the 19th century in response to a deadly rise in antisemitism, particularly within the Russian Empire. After World War I, the British took over Palestine, a region in the former Ottoman Empire where Russian Jews had settled since the 1800s. During World War II, the lack of an established Jewish homeland equated to certain death for millions of Europeans, as all nations of the world, including the United States, were reluctant to accept Jewish refugees fleeing the Holocaust. Following the war, in 1947, the United Nations approved a two-state solution in Palestine, with a Jewish state and an Arab state each taking a percentage of the land. Most Arab leaders, though, considered the very existence of Israel—a country the size of New Jersey—an infuriating act of Western incursion and vowed to block the initiative until it was destroyed. Still, Israel was established as a nation in May 1948 and an estimated 700,000 Palestinians were displaced from their homes in Israel. The region has been engulfed in waves of conflict since.

Seventy-six years later, frequent attacks have led to increased military and political responses, thwarting all peace efforts. Now, millions of Palestinians live as permanent refugees in a handful of countries around the Middle East and on a sliver of land adjacent to the Mediterranean Sea called Gaza, while their continuing outrage over Israel’s existence has become, for many Arabs, a core tenet of their shared worldview.

Meanwhile, in America, antisemitism has escalated, not only on the far right where it has long thrived, but also increasingly on the far left, with many young students and activists viewing Israel as the “oppressor” in the Israel-Palestine conflict and blaming the Israeli government’s treatment of Palestinians for Hamas’s brutal act of terrorism. Indeed, shortly after October 7, “we were already starting to hear this spin of victim-blaming,” Bresler says, mentioning the Harvard student group’s statement. “I do not use this analogy lightly, but the tone of that statement was saying, ‘Israel stayed out too late. Israel shouldn’t have dressed like that. Israel shouldn’t have gotten so drunk, and she shouldn’t have let her friends leave her. She got what she deserved.’”

Quickly, openly anti-Israel reactions from colleagues and friends caused “the ground underneath the Jewish people in Israel and here in America to fundamentally shift,” says Marc Baker, president and CEO of the Combined Jewish Philanthropies (CJP). “I think some things that we considered to be true proved not to be true—in particular, the safety and security of Israel.”

Bresler was one of many Jews who felt isolated after October 7: “We went to the supermarket, to work, to school, to the park, to pick the kids up from school and drop them off at school. [And we were feeling] intense anger, deep sadness every minute of every day, completely preoccupied with what had happened in Israel to our family, to our friends.”

Bresler responded to his sense of isolation by searching for community. He launched a private Facebook group in his town and was surprised when it hit nearly 100 members in just a week. Through that group, he built strong friendships with other Jews. They organized weekly walks dedicated to keeping the plight of the hostages front and center. Bresler also learned through Facebook about the Massachusetts Teachers Association’s December ceasefire motion, urging the U.S. government to stop funding Israel’s “genocidal war on the Palestinian people in Gaza,” which some viewed as openly anti-semitic. Since then, he has spent his free time working with educators, administrators, and policymakers to combat antisemitism in Massachusetts’ public school system.

Like Bresler, Dena Snyder felt compelled to build community following the Hamas attack on Israel. She refers to herself as “a proud Zionist. Loving Israel was kind of imprinted on my soul.” A few weeks after the Hamas attack, Snyder, who grew up in Lexington and lives in Newton, connected over Teams for the first time with a few of her Jewish colleagues at Northeastern University. She says that October 7 was “such a shocking and horrible time that we were barely functioning, and it was just nice to have a little bit of solidarity.”

Soon, a member of the group suggested that they ask Northeastern’s administration for permission to establish an official Jewish affinity group to support Jewish faculty and staff. There was already a Latinx affinity group, an LGBQTA+ affinity group, and a Black affinity group. Why wasn’t there a Jewish group? “I think it’s because people are like, are you a religion? Are you a people?” Snyder explains. “It’s just one of those things that people don’t really know what it means to be Jewish.”

Northeastern instantly agreed, and the new Jewish affinity group at the school, Snyder says, became a godsend, signaling to her that her employer “recognized the trauma that having anti-Israel protests with a lot of antisemitic tropes on our campus would cause.” Through the affinity group, Snyder says, she felt that the senior administration seemed to understand “why having a group of people yelling ‘from the river to the sea’ or ‘one-state solution intifada revolution’ is antisemitic, because it’s calling for the annihilation of the Jewish state. I didn’t feel like I had to explain or justify why having this was problematic. They got it.” This is no small thing, she notes: “College campuses have been the darkest places for Jewish people to exist in the last year.”

As CEO of Eastern Bank, Bob Rivers took a similar approach to Northeastern, guided by other influential leaders, especially Robert Kraft, who poured his heart and soul into educating the business community and educators about the history of Jews, Israel, and antisemitism following the Hamas attack. After visiting the temporary Auschwitz exhibit in Boston, Rivers prioritized giving employees from all backgrounds a sense of community within their groups so that they could support one another. “Both Jews and Muslims are hurting for different but similar reasons,” he says. He believes that business leaders today are “frozen by this issue—they feel like it’s a no-win for them.” Rivers’s answer: “Don’t pick sides. Just give people safe spaces to come together.”

Social justice activist Andrea Silbert went further; she focused on educating her peers because she felt that they lacked critical context in a situation that lacked easy answers. Growing up in Brookline during the 1970s, “There was a lot of antisemitism,” she says. “My family was one of the first Jewish families that was accepted to the Skating Club of Boston. I was not able to go to the cotillion or the coming-out dances that my boyfriend went to because I was Jewish. So we dealt with it, and my attitude was always, Yes, their loss, right? Whatever.”

Silbert’s family briefly lived in Israel when she was a toddler, and her commitment to the nation is inextricably linked to her Jewish pride, but supporting Israel wasn’t always easy. In 1973, when Silbert was nine years old, she walked into the living room and saw her father sitting in front of the TV as news of the Yom Kippur War streamed in. “He was just catatonic. He was shaking his head and said, ‘Andrea, it’s all going to be lost. No one will stand up for us.’”

In the years that followed, Silbert says, she noticed antisemitism increasingly coming from so-called progressives. “We all knew about the Ku Klux Klan. But frankly, I’ve always known that the greater threat to American Jewry is from the far left,” she says, noting the virulent strains of antisemitism traveling across the Atlantic from Russia and Arab countries in the 1970s. Even so, she concentrated her energy on fighting for gender equity, founding a nonprofit in Roxbury nearly 30 years ago to help women start and grow their own businesses and running unsuccessfully as a Democrat for lieutenant governor in 2006.

It wasn’t until Silbert’s daughter was an undergrad at Harvard that she began to see just how deeply antisemitism had permeated the left. After the Crimson editorial board posted a statement promoting the boycott, divestment, and sanctions (BDS) movement against Israel in April 2022, Silbert says she was shocked. And this wasn’t an isolated incident: “There was so much going on at colleges where Jewish kids, if they didn’t disavow Zionism or Israel, weren’t allowed into clubs,” she says, pointing to the University of Vermont’s settlement with the U.S. Department of Education over allegations of antisemitism on campus. “And I kept screaming, this is going on. Why don’t people know about it? They’re going after kids. They’re shunning them. They’re making them feel guilty. This is bigger. And nobody really was focused on it.”

In January 2022, Silbert organized friends, including Colette Phillips—a Black convert to Judaism and an active member of the Jewish community—and other Black and Jewish friends, to talk about how Jewish people needed to be included in the social justice movement. And after October 7, she says, she felt even more compelled to reach the progressive community as a Jew.

In the weeks and months after October 7, Silbert and Phillips, plus Sandy Lish—cofounder of the Castle Group PR agency—began hosting roundtable discussions to help contextualize the Hamas attack within the history of Israel, Jews, and antisemitism. They’ve held seven events so far, connecting with 270 members of the community. Silbert’s fundamental message is that “the history of the Middle East is far too complex to have an oppressed and oppressor narrative.”

Despite her activist work, Silbert admits, her politics are shifting. “At this point, I can’t call myself a progressive because really that means rejection of Israel’s right to exist. So as a defender of the Jewish state, I no longer call myself a progressive or a liberal. I am a centrist.”

One unique aspect of Jewish culture is that children are encouraged from an early age to question, challenge, and debate Judaism’s philosophical underpinnings so that they can find themselves within its traditions and laws. For that reason, “people’s views and relationship to Israel vary considerably,” says Rob Leikind of the American Jewish Committee. “But overwhelmingly, American Jews feel that Israel is essential. They may have very different views about this government. They may have very different views given Israeli policies or about the war in Gaza, but that Israel is an essential part of their Jewishness, and their identity, is overwhelmingly the case.”Yet after October 7, and especially after Israel’s military response in Gaza, many in the local Jewish community have found themselves questioning the parameters of Zionism—the belief that Jews should have their own state in their ancestral homeland. David Starr, a conservative rabbi at Brookline’s Congregation Mishkan Tefila, is one of them. “There are a lot of Jews on the left who love the Jewish people,” he says. “They love Israel, but they’re not revisionist Zionists. They don’t support the occupation.”

In fact, some Jews argue that actions under the guise of Zionism have actually made them less safe. “Zionism is, I would say, a colonial project,” says Eli Gerzon, whose Dutch grandfather lost 44 family members in the Holocaust. “It’s a political movement that I maybe could have supported a hundred years ago. It’s like, let’s move to the holy land. Let’s move to Palestine. But there’s just no excuse for what Israel has done in the name of Judaism.”

After October 7, Gerzon stopped working full-time to volunteer for Jewish Voice for Peace, an anti-Zionist Jewish advocacy organization that is critical of Israel’s occupation of the Palestinian territories and supports the boycott, divestment, and sanctions campaign against Israel. “Biden said Israel is so important as a safe haven for the Jewish people,” Gerzon says. “I’m like, it doesn’t look like that’s working out right now. That’s not what’s happening. Jews are being killed, and the killing of civilians is a horrible thing that should be condemned.”

The current conflict between Israelis and Palestinians has exacerbated a rift in Boston’s Jewish community, even alienating parents from their children.

Indeed, the most recent conflict between Israelis and Palestinians has exacerbated a rift in Boston’s Jewish community, even alienating parents from their children. Until recently, Joelle Hochman felt a very strong connection to Israel; her mother is Israeli, and she has spent a lot of time there. The Somerville resident says that going to Israel has always given her a sense of comfort: “Whenever I’ve been in Israel, I have felt like I was part of the majority, a very positive feeling for me. It felt like a break from being a minority in the U.S., and an unseen minority, in a way.”

After October 7, though, Hochman’s support for the Jewish state alienated her from her 22-year-old daughter, who, because she felt that the power balance between Israel and the Palestinians was uneven, had thrown herself into the pro-Palestinian movement. “She hasn’t walked away from being a Jew,” Hochman explains. “But for a long time, we didn’t talk about it. I felt very torn, very in the middle, and not quite sure where to stand. And I felt that any stand I took would alienate the other people in my life.”

In April, Hochman took a vacation with her daughter, determined to find common ground. At first, it seemed their differences were irreconcilable. Hochman felt her daughter “had no compassion for the hostages and for what was happening to Israel. We had big fights, big arguments, big discussions,” she says. But after “really pushing myself to hear her and to understand her and not to just blow her off,” Hochman explains, she began to see her daughter’s point of view. “I am really horrified by the extent of the damage and the killing that the Israeli government has sanctioned.”

Hochman says she also began to recognize how her own family might have contributed to the plight of Palestinians. Her grandfather had been an Israeli architect—many of his buildings still stand in Tel Aviv. Her great-grandfather was an engineer who helped build the water system in the city. “I’m grappling with whether building the new city of Tel Aviv was the right thing to do. Did my grandfather’s family displace Arabs from Jaffa? Did they move into a home where people had been forced to leave? There’s a lot I don’t know.”

Eventually, Hochman joined Standing Together, a grassroots Israeli organization that aims to unite Arab-Israeli and Jewish-Israeli communities. “They’re basically saying, none of us are leaving. We have a future together. We don’t know what it is, but we’re here to stay,” Hochman says. “And that was an organization I could get behind.”

Other Jews, while horrified by the Hamas attack, saw October 7 as a call to action to challenge Israel’s politics and policies. Jess Feldman, an activist who had just completed a Ph.D. at Brown University and settled in the Boston area, joined Jewish Voice for Peace shortly after the attacks. “I think there’s a real conflation of the critique of Zionism as a political project and wishing harm toward Jews,” Feldman says, explaining when mainstream groups established that Israel was integral to Jewish safety, any criticism of the country’s politics was deemed antisemitic. What’s more, Feldman doesn’t believe that an ethnostate for Jews will protect them.

Jeremy Menchik, an associate professor in the Pardee School of Global Studies at Boston University, offers intellectual heft to Feldman’s argument. Menchik refers to himself as a Jew who “believes in the values of education, pluralism, tolerance, separation of religion and state, making your home wherever you are, and working for justice wherever you are.” Through his research, he says, “I’ve seen what terrible things religious nationalism does, whether it’s Trump and Christian nationalism in the U.S., or Modi and Hindu nationalism in India, or Islamists and Islamic nationalism in Indonesia. It’s absolutely toxic. And I feel the same way about Jewish nationalism.” He says that American Jews are waking up to how contemporary religious nationalism, contemporary Zionism, are “oddly incompatible with liberalism. In my work, Jewish nationalism is antithetical to everything I understand Judaism to be.”

Last fall, Menchik and his family joined Boston Workers Circle, a secular Jewish organization born of the labor movement, which provides Jewish education and supports labor causes. “I have two kids, a nine-year-old and a five-year-old, and we’ve been talking for a while about how to raise ethical, generous, community-minded kids. It’s hard to do. We live in Jamaica Plain, which is a really community-oriented part of Boston, but we didn’t feel like it was enough.”

Though Boston Workers Circle is a Jewish nonprofit, Combined Jewish Philanthropies has withdrawn its funding for the group because it partnered with anti-Zionist groups in its ceasefire organization efforts—though the group itself does not take any stance on Zionism. “CJP’s funding guidelines prohibit us from funding what I would call actively anti-Zionist organizations,” Marc Baker explains. “And so a number of organizations in our community who have continued to express, I would say, activism against Israel—that’s put them out of the bounds of our funding.”

Which leads to the central conflict of being an American Jew at this moment in history. “My people began in the land of Israel,” Baker says. “So much of our history took place in the land of Israel. We are indigenous to the land of Israel, and so Israel is integral to our identity and therefore to our community, to our people.”

But some people, like Boston Workers Circle member Haley Kossek, believe that part of being a Jew also means taking responsibility for the state of the world, including Gaza. “It’s my obligation to create a better political situation so that people can exercise their rights to freedom, dignity, and self-determination,” she says. “I’ve got to find a way to be hopeful and to outlast my own despair. These are my commitments as a Jew and as a human.”

Wherever their politics lie, over the past year, many Jews have found a renewed sense of purpose, emboldened to engage more fully with their communities.

Regardless of how, exactly, it changed them, October 7 was clearly a galvanizing moment for Boston’s Jews—including Mia, who is currently thriving at Gann Academy. She says that being in a Jewish high school where she doesn’t have to explain her pain and her fear, as well as her Jewish traditions and pride, has been life-changing. Going to Gann, she says, “has saved me the past few months, knowing that I’m not alone in feeling horrified and devastated.”

As the grim anniversary of the Hamas attack approaches, Boston’s Jews will observe Yom Kippur, the holiest of holidays. It is the Jewish day of atonement, a period to reflect collectively on what all of us have done, or not done, to repair the world. Over the past year, many Jews have found a renewed sense of purpose, emboldened to engage more fully with their communities. Wherever their politics lie, those who observe the holiday will acknowledge a core Jewish belief in global peace and good works, as the Yom Kippur service closes with a communal wish: May we all be sealed in the Book of Life for a year of goodness.

Updated October 4: This story has been updated for clarity since publication.

First published in the print edition of Boston magazine’s October 2024 issue with the headline, “When Crisis Calls.”


Previously

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A Boston Bruin Marries His BU Sweetheart at the Boston Public Library https://www.bostonmagazine.com/weddings/2024/01/03/charlie-mcavoy-bruins-wedding/ Wed, 03 Jan 2024 15:34:05 +0000

Photo by Scarlet Roots

For her first date with Boston-University-Terrier-turned-Boston-Bruins-defenseman Charlie McAvoy, Kiley Sullivan wore a mermaid costume. Charlie was dressed as Average Joe from the movie Dodgeball. Yes, it was a Halloween party. The pair met through friends in their freshman dorm earlier that year, then bonded over hockey. Kiley is the daughter of Michael Sullivan, the head coach of the Pittsburgh Penguins and a former Bruin.

Charlie was recruited by the Bruins during their sophomore year while Kiley stayed on to earn a degree in health science (she recently completed a nursing degree at MGH Institute of Health Professions, too), but that didn’t dampen their romance. In the summer of 2022, prior to attending a teammate’s wedding in Lake Como, Charlie proposed with a cushion-cut diamond on a boat under Faraglioni Rocks off the coast of Capri. Bruins captain Brad Marchand suggested the romantic scenario. “Legend is that if you kiss under the rocks, you will be in love forever,” Kiley says.

Following a ceremony officiated by Kiley’s uncle in Marsh Chapel at the couple’s alma mater, 268 guests celebrated at the Boston Public Library, where they dined on seared filet mignon and lump crab cake and boogied at an ice-themed disco after-party. “I studied at the Boston Public Library during college; it’s the most beautiful place to me,” Kiley shares.

Photo by Scarlet Roots

Photo by Scarlet Roots

Boston University’s MarPhoto by Scarlet Roots

THE DETAILS

THE CAKE

Montilio’s created a towering cake with a fluted architectural design that plays off the table bases in the library’s Bates Room; white orchids cascaded down its multiflavored layers. “Charlie is a big foodie, so we did three different flavors: Italian olive oil cake, chocolate tuxedo cake with chocolate mousse, and vanilla-bean cake with blackberry mousse filling,” Kiley says.

Photo by Scarlet Roots

Photo by Scarlet Roots

Photo by Scarlet Roots

THE COCKTAIL HOUR

During cocktails in the courtyard, lemon trees and cacio e pepe hors d’oeuvre recalled the betrothed’s Mediterranean adventure while a decadent raw bar injected Boston flavor.

Photo by Scarlet Roots

Photo by Scarlet Roots

Photo by Scarlet Roots

THE DÉCOR

In creating the décor elements, including the band’s deep-green paneled backdrop punctuated with brass sconces, Keri Ketterer Walter took cues from interior design photos that Kiley shared. “The size and scale of the library can engulf you, so we incorporated details such as custom-built bars and the band backdrop that personalized each space,” says the event designer and planner.

Photo by Scarlet Roots

THE GETAWAY CAR

Charlie learned to drive stick in order to whisk away the bride, who channeled Audrey Hepburn with a Christian Dior headscarf and Yves Saint Laurent sunglasses, in a 1957 Porsche 356 Speedster.

Photo by Scarlet Roots

Photo by Scarlet Roots

THE GOWNS

When the initial gown she ordered didn’t fit quite right, Kiley headed to Manhattan’s Mark Ingram Atelier, where she plucked a Carolina Herrera gown off the rack. The strapless column dress is one of the label’s last, as in 2022, the fashion house shifted its focus to ready-to-wear. Kiley slipped into a beaded gown by Retrofete for the reception. “I wanted something youthful, fun, and comfortable for dancing,” she says.

Photo by Scarlet Roots

THE TABLESCAPES

Kiley’s love for orchids and the table lamps in Bates Hall inspired the all-white palette with gold and green accents. Lush arrangements of orchids, English roses, ranunculus, and other blooms graced the long oak reading tables set with brushed gold flatware, mossy green velvet napkins, and cut-crystal candleholders. “The lamps are such a symbolic piece of this place, I wanted to highlight them,” Kiley says.

Photo by Scarlet Roots

Photo by Scarlet Roots

Photo by Scarlet Roots

THE TUXEDOS

Seaport-based menswear designer Christopher Cuozzo, a go-to for Bruins players, made Charlie’s and his groomsmen’s bespoke tuxedos. The lining of the black jacket Charlie wore for the ceremony was printed with the couple’s engagement photos, including one featuring their French bulldog, Otto. Charlie changed into a formal white dinner jacket, also by Cuozzo, for the reception.

Photo by Scarlet Roots

Photo by Scarlet Roots

THE SEATING CHART

Hockey pucks—the décor’s lone ode to the game—embellished with a drawing of a library lamp and the popular hockey phrase “Light the lamp” served as escort cards. The pucks were displayed in an arched case that echoed the courtyard arcade and declared, “Score a seat.”

Photo by Scarlet Roots

Photo by Scarlet Roots

Photo by Scarlet Roots

Photo by Scarlet Roots

Photo by Scarlet Roots

THE FILE

Band
Wilson Stevens Beantown Band

Bar and Lounge
Form Creative Services

Bridesmaid Dresses
Jenny Yoo, Flair Boston

Cake
Montilio’s Baking Company

Caterer
The Catered Affair

Designer/Planner
Always Yours Events

DJ
Music Management

Flowers
Stoneblossom

Hair
Jennifer Tawa

Lighting
Suzanne B. Lowell

Makeup
The Glamour Cosmetics Team

Photographer
Scarlet Roots

Rentals
La Affitto and Peak Event Services

Stationery
Gus & Ruby Letterpress

Transportation
Bob Bassill and Rent the Classics

Videographer
Willow Tree Films

Photo by Scarlet Roots

First published in the print issue of Boston Weddings 2024.

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What Is the Weirdest Mass. Road Sign Ever? https://www.bostonmagazine.com/news/2022/11/16/horseback-riding-laws/ Wed, 16 Nov 2022 17:42:32 +0000 https://www.bostonmagazine.com/?p=2712881

Illustration by Zohar Lazar

We’ve all had small moments when life finally felt like it was returning to normal. For me, it was the bulk section reopening at Whole Foods. “We can grab out of the same granola bin? We’re back, baby.”

The other one was when I could leave my house and go places, which meant driving, and that meant going on the turnpike and expressway—and I love being able to go on the turnpike and expressway for no other reason than to see my favorite sign in the entire world. It’s on every on-ramp, and it’s poetry without words, just three symbols with lines through them. No walking. No biking. And one more.

No horses.

The first one, okay, makes sense. I-90 isn’t ideal for a stroll. The second, sure, I suppose you gotta tell people that the Ted Williams isn’t the place for a Peloton.

But eff me on the third.

Tell me, Massachusetts highway officials, where am I supposed to go when I need to take Chestnut out for a ride? That mare needs to run, and that requires cement under her hooves and Ford F-150 exhaust in her face. Without that, she’s a whole lot of ornery for the rest of the weekend.

Here’s the thing. This is an official marking. It’s in a manual on the Department of Transportation’s website. The sign has its own page (19) with specifics on measurements, borders, and colors. But before any of this could get to the design phase, the content had to be agreed upon. That meant a meeting among adults. Sorry, many meetings. Months and months of meetings, subcommittee reports, and task forces. And before that final vote, there were more discussions as they finally got to Agenda Item No.12.

“People, we can only have three. I know the sign could fit four, but that’s too much to read while drivers are going 80 and trying to merge. I think we can agree on no walking and no biking. But the last one needs to bring it home, and bring it home hard. Who’s got something?”

Ideas got chucked out. The towed powerboat proposal received some debate. The thought of banning goats had minor traction. But in the end, they were a “no,” just like tractors, wheelbarrows, and shopping carts. Then someone suggested, almost apologetically, in the middle of the night, “A horse?”

Cheers and high-fives all around. The work was done. The roads could be opened because they had their rules.

At least, that’s how I’d like to picture it. In truth, state law says you can’t drive a horse or a horse-drawn vehicle onto a highway where a sign has been posted. So there has to be a sign because, as Terry Regan—a Boston University adjunct professor in the city planning and urban studies program—explains, “If there’s no sign, it’s not prohibited.” Translation: No sign guarantees horses on 128.

I get the original intent of the regulation. The first charters for turnpikes in Massachusetts were in 1799, and I’m guessing there were few bans on horses back then since, well, it was 1799. I’m also guessing that clashes between auto and steed started happening around 1908, when the Model T came out and some horse got totally freaked out by the sight of the steel beast. Which probably explains the state law that says a motorist always has to stop or give the right of way to a horse, cow, or draft animal if it seems freaked out. (The law says frightened. I took a liberty. It’ll be my only one.)

And I’m sure by the time the Sumner Tunnel opened in 1934, and Ford, General Motors, and Chrysler were all pumping out cars, someone on the road commission realized, “We’re gonna need some kind of sign, or it’s gonna get ugly.”

Fine. Job well done sign, but when Route 6 opened in the ’50s, no one was saying, “Leaving for the Cape now. Where’s my saddle?” But the sign remains.

If it were removed, I don’t think we’d necessarily end up with livestock jamming up the Zakim. Sure, maybe one kid from Dover or Hamilton will accept his friends’ dare—I was going to use a neutral pronoun, but you know it’s a he—and take a joy ride, but one good ticket and seven points on his insurance will send the right message.

But here’s why it won’t happen. In general, we great citizens of the commonwealth love nothing more than getting indignant at being told what to do. “Cross at the crosswalk? Don’t think so.” “Resident parking? I’m a resident of the world, meter reader. Bite me.” And we would, without question, bring a horse onto any roadway just because we couldn’t, if only we wanted to, but we don’t. If someone yelled, “They’re trying to tell me where I can bring Mr. Sugar. I’ll tell you where I can take him. Any goddamned place I goddamned want, and tomorrow it’s sandcastles and Revere Beach,” the whole bar would yell back, “On Route 1? What kind of jackass are you? Now get back to trivia night. You’re the literature guy.”

I get that the state is full of old laws that go unnoticed, but here’s the thing with the No Horses regulation: The sign was updated in 2016, according to the DOT site. It might have been the graphics or spacing, but it wasn’t the symbols. It’s still no bike, no walk, no horse.

Really? There were zero thoughts on freshening things up a bit?

I’m just spitballing here. Maybe a cell phone with a line through it? I know it gives directions and plays music, and I don’t want anyone to be lost or be lost in silence, but we could agree the picture just means to keep your eyes up and on the road. That’s still a good driving tip, or was that just a thing for all of history except the past 20 years? Or maybe the head of an angry man yelling angry words, expressed with typographical symbols—#s, @s, and %s—technically known as grawlixes (didn’t know that either), with a line through it? I respect anyone’s freedom of expression, but the extra cortisol being produced from the rage does no one any good on the road.

Wait. I’ve got it. A middle fi nger with a line through it. I realize it’s akin to banning “Sweet Caroline,” but it might actually create a more peaceful, less stressful experience. I said, “might.”

I guess none of these fl ew, if they were talked about at all. Okay, Department of Transportation, horses remain the true menace. Hooray status quo. But here’s the other thing I realized: The sign is specific with what’s not allowed, so…I guess it’s a green light for bringing on everything else, like, let’s see, your bear, elephant, tank, skateboard, electric scooter, parasail, wagon, tricycle (yes, but this has three wheels, officer), ostrich, camel, and pedicab.

I actually don’t want any of those things on the expressway. That would be silly. I want something else. The horses. Bring them back. For one, it couldn’t be any worse, and with all of the T’s problems, we need as many conveyance options as possible.

Plus, they come with a ton of upside. Gas prices are still too high, and horses are the most fuel-efficient things out there. People will stay off their phones because unless you’re a champion roper, you’re going to need both hands to keep that stallion between the lane lines. Rotaries will be a daily thrill ride as you whip around and around, finally getting to use that crop that’s been gathering dust in the garage. Dreaded no more, those traffic circles will become beautiful urban carousels.

Oh, one more. We’d get into shape without having to go to the gym. Staying on a horse requires core strength. Sure, there’ll be soreness, but have you ever seen an equestrian’s abs? Wicked sick.

I know this is a lot, and we should probably test it out a few Sundays on Memorial Drive. You know, trot before we can canter and then gallop? I bet the rollerbladers won’t mind.

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The Interview: Playwright and BU Professor Kirsten Greenidge https://www.bostonmagazine.com/arts-entertainment/2022/05/03/kirsten-greenidge/ Tue, 03 May 2022 15:01:14 +0000 https://www.bostonmagazine.com/?p=2682787

Photo by Philip Keith

Growing up in Arlington, Kirsten Greenidge loved theater so much that she put on shows with pals in her mom’s living room—with a concession stand, naturally. Fast-forward a few decades, and though the stages (and the audiences) have gotten much larger, the playwright’s affinity for the spoken word hasn’t changed one bit. One of the most searing and relevant new voices in American theater, Greenidge has had six of her plays commissioned by the Huntington theater, two this month alone: Our Daughters, Like Pillars, which runs through May 8, and Common Ground Revisited, based on the Pulitzer Prize–winning book by J. Anthony Lukas and premiering on May 27. We sat down with the Obie Award winner and BU professor to talk about eavesdropping, being a control freak, and SpongeBob SquarePants: The Broadway Musical.

How do you make dialogue sound natural?

I would say that I make it sound natural to me. I listen a lot, although I think my family would say I don’t. [Chuckles.] But when I first started writing, I rode the T a ton. So I’d just sit on the T and listen to people, and to their patterns of speech. I’m really nosy as well. And then, playwrights are trying to essentially persuade an audience to a point of view, so I have to get the dialogue to sound the way I want it to in that sense, too.

Is everything you hear material?

When people say that, I feel a bit bad and guilty because I don’t want people to think, “Oh my God, I don’t want to talk to Kirsten, anything I say will end up in her play.” But I like to believe that I’m curious about human nature and how people interact. I’m actually really, really interested in conversation.

Our Daughters, Like Pillars is about sisters. Did your sisters see this play and say, “We have to talk”?

With my two sisters, one is a novelist, and one is a historian, so they’re both writers, which is really helpful, because they both understand the process and that we draw from our lives. But the characters that are ultimately rendered are not ourselves, and are not necessarily the people in our lives. It’s good to have people who understand that. Although I will say that after one of the first readings of this play, one of my sisters was like, “What did you do?” And I was like, “I’m so sorry.” I’ve pulled back a little bit from our story, but the characters will not be unknown to people who know a little bit about my family. I think it’s okay when we draw a little bit from our real lives.

Common Ground Revisited examines the era of busing in Boston and a very tense time in the city, racially speaking. How much, if any, progress do you think we’ve made?

I do think we’ve made strides since the 1970s in terms of how we relate to each other racially in Boston. It is not the same world as it was 40 years ago. I don’t think we can point to any one indicator and say it signifies that change. Just because we elected a mayor who is a woman of color does not mean Boston’s struggles have eased; it does mean they have shifted. Boston and its surrounding cities still struggle with race and economic inequity in a way that is specific to the Northeast. It is a paradox. In a region that cherishes its work regarding civil and equal rights, we have a very hard time discussing race and a very hard time living side by side. Our neighborhoods, schools, and workplaces still suffer from a lack of equality and equity and representation. We do not need quotas. But if we want to live and work in a more just manner, we do need to reach a point where one person’s basic civil rights do not automatically feel like a threat to those surrounding that person. We are far from that point.

Photo by Philip Keith

If you’d had kids then and had the choice, would you have allowed them to be bused to, say, South Boston?

I don’t know if I can answer this directly. We are each products of our times. I can perhaps work to shutter some of my personal history to try to place myself in the position of a parent in 1974 Boston. But I can’t fully erase my own experiences with racism, microaggressions, sexism, or classism. I don’t fully know what I would do if I sent my child to a school and they were met with physical violence and danger as a matter of course. We know a lot more about trauma now, so I have the privilege of hindsight and not wanting to cause harm to my children, or others’ children, which I think is important to say when discussing integration and schooling.

Do you have any desire to write screenplays?

Yes, I do. I have a lot of plays on my docket as commissions, so in my mind, I’m like, “Okay, I’ll move those out of the queue, and then maybe I’ll settle into writing feature films.” I’m not so sure where I would sit in the TV world, though. TV is really exciting, all the content. But I think I prefer that longer form.

What’s the most outrageous stage direction you’ve ever written into a play?

I don’t know if it’s outrageous, but in one play, I had these girls in gym class, climbing a rope and then clanging the bell, so the stage direction said, “More cowbell.” Nobody picked up on it until the dramaturg finally said, “Oh, I love that you put ‘More cowbell’ in.” I was like, “You are welcome.”

Who would you say is your favorite playwright of all time?

Oh, gosh, I could never answer that question, because I’m a really easy audience. I just love going, and I’m like, “This is amazing! This is the best play ever!” I do have some plays that have influenced me more than others, though. One of those would be The America Play by Suzan-Lori Parks. And as a Black, female playwright, anything by Lorraine Hansberry is extremely inspirational.

How about SpongeBob SquarePants: The Broadway Musical?

[Laughs.] I’m sure there are many wonderful things about that, and I will say that at the beginning of most playwriting classes, we have a check-in. I remember one time, a student said, “I saw this over the weekend.” And they were so excited. And I thought, Hmm, because that was the one show I banned my kids from watching. It has been scientifically proven to deplete brain cells. So the musical is probably not in my wheelhouse.

Is there anyone you’d never work with again?

I don’t think there’s anyone I’d X off the list. One of the things that anchors me as a playwright is being able to see all sides of a story, so if there’s someone who, maybe during those weeks when I was working with them, it wasn’t their best time, I think I’m always up for giving somebody a second chance, especially because I, too, have been given many second chances. And now that I’ve said all that, I’m remembering somebody who I would never work with again. That person rewrote part of my play. Overnight, they were like, “Wouldn’t it be better if this happened?” and they actually gave me the pages. They handed them to me, and I read them. There were some great points. But you just don’t do that. For a long time, I was the youngest person in the room, and I think sometimes, people thought, Hey, she doesn’t know what she’s doing. And maybe I didn’t, but you just don’t hand a playwright a new ending, or a new scene.

There are certain playwrights whose words an actor will not deviate from, even with a minor interjection. Then there are playwrights who completely welcome some improvisation or deviation from what’s written on the page. Which are you?

Because actors know what the words feel like coming out of their mouths, I try to always listen to them. Sometimes they put an “ahh” or a breath there because it sounds better that way. I’m working between my brain and the screen, and not necessarily embodying the experience. I’m not an actor. I wasn’t bad; it’s just good for everyone in the world that I am no longer an actor. And I also had very bad stage fright. So that’s what I love about working in the room, and around the table, with actors. There are some times when words are placed for a specific reason, so if someone interjects something, and it doesn’t sound right, and it has to be exact, I’ll usually say to the director, “No, that’s not cool.”

Is there a character from one of your plays who’s most like you?

I would have to say right now, because she’s top of mind, the main character, Lavinia, in Our Daughters, Like Pillars. She’s the oldest daughter, and she kind of takes care of many things. I don’t take care of everything by myself the way Lavinia does, but that need to be like, “Hey, everybody, let’s all do this activity,” the same way I did when I was 10, is very much me.

Lavinia seems like a control freak. Would you describe yourself that way?

I think I’m steering people toward their best choices. [Chuckles.] Yes. I think my family, particularly, would say so. I live with not only my nuclear family, my husband and my two kids, but also my mom, my two sisters, and my sister’s toddler, and we’re together a lot. A lot of those dynamics that were layered into our personalities as children are very present in our adult lives, because we still live together.

Were you the neighborhood kid who was like, “Hey, guys, let’s put on a show!”?

Oh, yes. Growing up in Arlington, I had a theater company, and many of the neighborhood kids were part of it. We ran concessions, because that gave us more money to put on our shows. I did a lot of dramas, but my neighbor, who was my exact age, he did a lot of comedy. So we’d have a whole evening of entertainment designed for these legions of people who obviously never came, because the plays just took place in my mother’s living room.

That’s hilarious. Which is harder for you to write: comedy or drama?

I would most likely say comedy, because oftentimes, by the end of a comedy, you have things coming together, and I don’t have a lot of that at the end of my plays, even though there are comedic elements.

From where do you think theater derives its power?

People are drawn to story, so that’s where the power of theater comes from. Also, even those of us who feel like we want to be alone all the time, as human beings, we’re often drawn to wanting to gather. So it’s not just what you’re seeing in terms of the story, but it’s sitting next to somebody else, and experiencing it with them. You’re in a communal space, similar to going to worship in a church or a temple or a mosque, experiencing the same thing.

Is there anyone you’d be horrified to see in the audience at one of your plays?

I’ve learned to give up a certain amount of control over who’s in the audience and who’s not.

All the world’s a stage, and we are merely players. Is that true?

I guess, in an abstract sense.

Does being a Black, female playwright inform everything you do?

Yes, it governs my whole artistic career. I have no idea what it would be like to be a white, male playwright, or a male, Asian playwright, or a Black, male playwright. I only know how to be me. And it’s taken so long to get comfortable being in a room in that capacity, mostly because I’m an indoor, nervous, cat kind of person.

Okay, so when are you going to win a Tony?

Well, that is completely not up to me. I have to have a play on Broadway first. I’ve made peace with the idea that my plays might not get to Broadway. That’s okay. But that said, I would certainly love a Tony Award. I’m a very competitive person.


Photo via Tarpmagnus/Getty Images

Bringing Down the House

A peek behind the curtain at Boston’s rich—and long-running—theater scene.

229

Number of years since Boston’s first theater opened in 1793. (Puritans had effectively banned plays in Boston until 1792.)

40

Number of years America’s longest-running non-musical play, Shear Madness, played in Boston before calling it quits in 2020.

1900

Year the Emerson Colonial Theater opened, making it the longest continuously running theater in Boston.

3,700

Number of seats at the Boch Center’s Wang Theatre, the largest in the Theater District.

21

Number of Tony Awards the American Repertory Theater in Cambridge has won.

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The Two Best Universities in the World Are Still in Boston, the Latest Rankings Say https://www.bostonmagazine.com/news/2021/10/26/top-global-universities-2022-massachusetts/ Tue, 26 Oct 2021 04:01:16 +0000 https://www.bostonmagazine.com/?p=2665949

CAMBRIDGE, MA – APRIL 16: An aerial view of Harvard Hall in Harvard Yard in Cambridge, MA on April 16, 2020. (Photo by Blake Nissen for The Boston Globe via Getty Images)

Want your college experience to include license to shout from the Ivy draped rooftops We’re the best in the whole wide world! (or even We’re the second best?) Well, Boston is still the place to be.

At least, so says the U.S. News & World Report‘s 2022 Top Global Universities rankings, which once again put Harvard and MIT in the first and second-place slots, respectively.

This year’s list, which crunches the numbers on 1,750 colleges from across the globe, has results that don’t line up exactly with the publication’s ranking of American colleges, which it released earlier this fall. In that ranking, Harvard, MIT, and Columbia shared the second-place spot, behind Princeton.

The discrepancies between the two US news rankings are due to the fact that the global survey focuses “specifically on schools’ academic research and reputation overall and not on their separate undergraduate or graduate programs,” according to a press release explaining the global survey’s methodology.

Analyzing colleges in this way, and taking into account institutions around the world, means you have to read further down the list to find some of our prestigious local institutions. Boston University ranks 65th, down from 57th last year. UMass Amherst is slotted at 148th, Northeastern tied for 176th, Tufts earned 198th place, Brandeis is 320th, UMass Boston tied for 417th, and Boston College tied at 625th.

Williams College, which perennially tops the U.S. News list of American liberal arts colleges, didn’t make the cut at all. Nor did other local smaller schools like Amherst, Babson, Leslie, Simmons, Smith, Stonehill, and Suffolk.

Harvard and MIT also featured heavily in the U.S. News rankings that compared universities in specific subject areas. Harvard snagged the number one spot for clinical medicine; MIT ranked at the top of the list for physics; while UMass Amherst came in 5th for agricultural sciences.

After Harvard, the other Ivies placed high in the overall rankings as well: Columbia was 6th, Yale was 12th, Princeton was 16th, UPenn was 13th, Cornell was 22nd, Brown was 119th, and Dartmouth was 247th.

Of the 10 schools that placed highest in the rankings, just two were from outside the U.S—Oxford (5th) and Cambridge (8th)—and the U.S. had the largest share of top universities on the list, with 271. China, at 253, had the next most.

You can read the full results for yourself here.

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The Top Colleges in Massachusetts, According to the 2022 U.S. News and World Report Rankings https://www.bostonmagazine.com/education/2021/09/13/top-colleges-massachusetts-2022/ Mon, 13 Sep 2021 04:01:25 +0000 https://www.bostonmagazine.com/?p=2660823

Parents sit socially distanced during the Boston College 144th commencement exercises in Alumni Stadium in Chestnut Hill, Boston, MA on May 24, 2021. Photo by Pat Greenhouse/The Boston Globe via Getty Images

Colleges are not yet fully back to normal—the delta variant has made sure of that. But college students are indeed headed back to the classroom in person this year, albeit with varying vaccine, masking, and distancing policies. While we don’t know exactly what college will look like next year, we do know that the next crop of college freshman is already diving deep into the research to figure out where they want to go to school.

One thing we can reliably say about what’s to come is that, once again, U.S. News and World Report  has once again measured, sliced, diced, and, of course, ranked the nation’s universities. And local institutions have once again come out on top.

The organization on Monday released its 2022 Best Colleges rankings. Top marks in the National Universities category went to Princeton, which has claimed the top spot for 11 straight years.

Little old Harvard, always the bridesmaid and never the bride, is still ranked second. It shares the spot with Columbia and MIT, which actually saw a boost from the 2021 rankings, when it placed fourth. Good for MIT.

Elsewhere in the Commonwealth, Tufts tied for 28th (up a smidge from its 30th ranking last year), Boston College ranked 36th (about on par with last year, when it placed 35th); Boston University and Brandeis were not far behind, tying at 42nd; Northeastern placed 49th; and UMass Amherst was 68th.

Massachusetts also dominated in the Liberal Arts Colleges category. Williams College, ever the favorite in this report, placed first, followed by Amherst. Wellesley was 5th. Smith was 17th.

According to U.S. News‘ Best Value Schools ranking—which weighs academic quality against the average cost of attending after scholarships and other discounts—Yale claims the top spot, with MIT 2nd and Harvard 3rd.

Those interested can also peruse the results for several analyses, among them the top schools for computer science, business, and engineering programs, the best colleges for veterans, and the schools that are most ethnically diverse.

New this year is a ranking of the nation’s best nursing programs, which assessed programs based on reviews from deans and faculty of other nursing schools. The top local school in that category was Boston College, which tied for 19th. UMass Boston ranked 43rd, and the MGH Institute of Health Professions ranked 58th. The best program, according to the report, can be found at UPenn.

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I Can’t Stop Thinking about the BU Dorm Bat Fiasco https://www.bostonmagazine.com/news/2021/03/31/boston-university-bu-dorm-bat/ Wed, 31 Mar 2021 18:41:55 +0000 https://www.bostonmagazine.com/?p=2643800

Bat photo by Ewen Charlton/Getty | Dorm photo by Elliott Kaufman/Getty

When you show up to a college dorm, there are certain indignities that you accept just come with the territory. You may share a bathroom with dozens of strangers with varying levels of commitment to hygiene, for example. Unpleasant sights, smells, and sounds you might not have dealt with back at home might suddenly surround you on all sides. You might be briefly kept from your bedroom in the middle of the night to give your roommate and a guest some…privacy.

Typically there is payoff to this arrangement, like newfound freedom, lots of new friends, and plentiful access to parties. So you come to expect, and accept, the drawbacks.

You never expect to get attacked by a bat. And you never expect to hunt and kill said bat in the middle of the night.

But that is exactly what happened to a trio of Boston University students, per a segment about the absurd and terrifying ordeal that aired on student radio station WTBU last week.

The tale is worth reading or listening to in its entirety, but essentially one student says she heard something clattering around in her room after midnight, discovered to her horror that it was a bat and wrangled two neighbors to help deal with the situation. They called BU’s facilities department for help, but say they were told that because it was the weekend, it would behoove them to take matters into their own hands. And boy did they ever. The story goes on to say that the trio “geared up with makeshift weapons” including “a wooden rod,” chased the bat around the room and beat the animal to death, then placed its bludgeoned corpse into a bag.

One of the students involved described the violent ordeal as “primal and just absurd.” Agreed and agreed.

The gruesome series of events raises questions about how exactly BU is accommodating its students at this precarious moment in Boston’s college student history. College students have made extraordinary sacrifices (under threat of severe penalties) to keep the pandemic from getting any worse this year, meaning a lot of the joys of being an undergrad living on campus have been put on hold. Case counts at colleges in Boston have been surprisingly, and admirably, lower than any of us could have imagined. Is this really the best we can do for the young adults we’ve sequestered in dorm rooms with strict rules about whether and how they can socialize?

I asked BU about all this, and for what it’s worth, administrators are very apologetic about the whole thing. In an email, representative Colin Riley attributed the situation to a series of miscommunications and bad in-the-moment calls made in the middle of the night.

For one, he says, students can and do get help for facilities-related emergencies over weekends. What should have happened, he says, is the affected student should have been “temporarily relocated to a buffer room” until the university’s outside pest management vendor, Haverhill-based All Star Pet Control, could respond.

Instead, given the late hour and lack of available resources at the time, facilities staff advised the students on how they might handle the situation themselves. Riley says they were told to open a window to let the bat escape, not slaughter it with brute force. But 15 minutes after that initial call, the students called back to say the bloody deed had been done.

“Facilities Management does not want students to deal with pest control issue[s],” Riley says, adding that the report of the invader bat “should have been treated as a more urgent matter.” By Monday, the pest control experts responded and sealed any possible entry points for any other winged invaders.

Still, what happened happened. There is no evidence anyone suffered bites from the bat’s fangs, although to be safe, one of the students was reportedly considering getting a rabies shot.

So let’s hope the dorm room bat battle of 2021 is just an anomaly in an anomalous year. I think we can all agree that Boston’s college kids deserve a lot better.

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Where Massachusetts Colleges Placed in the 2021 U.S. News & World Report Rankings https://www.bostonmagazine.com/education/2020/09/14/massachusetts-college-rankings-2021-us-news-world-report/ Mon, 14 Sep 2020 04:01:25 +0000 us news and world report college rankings massachusetts 2021

Williams College photo via Getty/ Barry Winiker | Bentley photo via Getty/DenisTangneyJr | UMass Amherst photo via Getty/Boston Globe

Picking a college is tough in a good year, when going off to college at the very least means fully enjoying the undergrad experience in all its non-socially-distanced glory. But it’s even tougher this year, as students head back to class at a scary and confusing time. So for any families weighing their options while checking coronavirus case counts in the home states of the schools of their dreams and praying we no longer have to deal with all of this lunacy come fall of 2021, U.S. News & World Report has released the latest edition of its Best Colleges rankings.

And once again, Massachusetts has landed a bevy of its colleges near the top of the class.

Harvard has yet again come in second place on the list of top national universities, placing just shy of Princeton, which claimed the top spot. MIT came in fourth, a slight downgrade after tying with Yale last year in third (Yale now has the sole claim to the number-three spot). Tufts came in 30th, sharing the honor with New York University, the University of California – Santa Barbara, and the University of Florida, Boston College placed 35th, and Boston University tied with Brandeis at 42nd. Northeastern endured a notable drop in the list, falling from 40th to 49th.

Williams College, meanwhile, has held its top ranking on the list of national liberal arts colleges, followed once again by Amherst College at second.

In rankings of regional colleges, Bentley is now tied for first with Providence College, a bump up from last year, when it placed second.

To reach these conclusions, U.S. News compiles data on 18,000 colleges and universities and crunches the numbers on 17 metrics, among them faculty-to-student ratios, graduation rates, and other figures. This year, it now weights “outcomes” for students—as in, what happens to students at the end of their college careers. And for the first time, 5 percent of a college’s ranking is based on “student indebtedness.”

The numbers for each school do not take into account the giant mess that the pandemic has wrought on colleges in 2020, so do with that information what you will.

“The pandemic has affected students across the country, canceling commencement ceremonies and switching classes from in person to remote,” Kim Castro, editor and chief content officer of U.S. News, says in a statement. “Whether students have slightly altered their college plans or changed them entirely, it remains our mission to continue providing students and their families with the tools they need to help find the right school for them.”

Also new this year were rankings of undergraduate computer science programs, a list U.S. News compiled by sending surveys to college deans and computer science professors, and asking them to rate programs at 481 other colleges on a five-point scale. Naturally MIT ranked first, with the list’s only perfect 5.0 rating. Harvard (4.3) came 13th, UMass Amherst (3.9) tied for 31st, and Northeastern (3.7) tied for 41st.

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