In case you couldn’t tell from the drum circle on Low, the Graduate Workers Strike is in full swing. This subsequently means that us Barnumbia students are missing out on their quality time with 30-something grad students that live in Williamsburg or Astoria or Washington Heights. One Bwog Staffer fills us in on their saga to make a connection with their TA before it’s too late. 

It doesn’t get more millennial than protestors chugging La Croix

Somehow it’s taken me an entire semester, but this last minute stretch taught me that I need to go all out in my efforts to hook up with my TA. Once our final discussion was canceled, I realized I had to get my shit together. So I shaved my legs, threw on a dress, read up on the worker’s strike, and laced up my combat boots.

This is my LAST week to make my relationship with my TA blossom, and it’s really a testament to how committed I am, considering I’m trekking over to Low in an incredibly inappropriate outfit for a labor strike. In the midst of pots being banged and La Croix waters being handed out, I stood by and screamed “What’s disgusting? Union busting!”

But in the midst of me scanning a field of signs for my TA’s coiffed hair, I started overhearing chants and rants. The administration is doing what?? I can’t believe I almost crossed the picket line to support Columbia’s anti-labor, pro-Trump, capitalist scum agenda.

At that point I realized something: I had to join in on the fight against Columbia’s policies, not just the fight to get naked with my TA. I bent down and grabbed a sign and started marching with the crowd of protestors.

So at the end of the day, our love remains unrequited but I did become an avid supporter of graduate student workers collective bargaining. Now can Columbia just pay our fucking TAs so they can stop ignoring us (me)?