Home

The Global Studies department hosted Professor Tanzeen Doha last Friday to present ethnographic research concerning Islamic tradition and global political violence. The talk, titled “Encountering Irreparable: Global War, Global Islam,” focused on two distinct historical events: the 2013 Shapla massacre in Dhaka, Bangladesh, and the Rohingya migration waves of 2016 and 2017. Doha, an ethnographer and literary scholar, challenged the audience to reconsider how religious subjects navigate conditions of total devastation.

Professor Maple Raza introduced Doha, noting that his work examines the encounter between Islamic migrants and the helpers who assisted them at the border between Myanmar and Bangladesh. Doha began by discussing the 2013 protest in Dhaka, where state security forces killed numerous Islamic practitioners during a peaceful demonstration. He noted that most victims were students from Kaomi Madrasas, independent seminaries that often face secular suspicion under the logic of the global war on terror.                                                                                   

A central theme of Doha’s lecture was the concept of the encounter. He explained that the Bangladeshi security regime used the term “encounter and crossfire” to label extrajudicial killings of Muslims, misrepresenting reality to justify violence. In contrast, Doha defined his own ethnographic encounter as a process of internal transformation and the deconstruction of the divide between the researcher and the subject. He argued that this engagement reveals a loss that is “irreparable,” where no possibility of repair or return exists.

The second project Doha shared involved the Rohingya migration. He observed that during the 2016 and 2017 waves, voluntary Islamic groups in the Chittagong region organized relief efforts independently of international humanitarian agencies. Doha stated these activities fall outside the logic of liberal humanitarianism. Instead, these practitioners view the Rohingya as part of a “contemporary history of the present” that re-historicizes prophetic stories of migration.

Doha also discussed tearfulness as a “phenomenological dimension of living under a necropolitical regime.” He cited the Quran and Hadith literature, which frame tears as gifts from God and signs of closeness to the Most High. For Islamic practitioners confronting the irreparable, Doha argued that tearfulness serves as an ethical, political, and psycho-spiritual disposition that disrupts traditional arcs of discourse.

The talk concluded with a discussion of the scholarly debate between Talal Asad and Saba Mahmood. Doha situated his research as a “third position” regarding how embodied traditions survive global crises. While Asad remains pessimistic about the survival of these traditions in a global system, Doha’s interlocutors demonstrate how Islamic discursive traditions provide the necessary tools to navigate catastrophe.

Following the lecture, questions were raised about the broader implications of his findings. Professor Britt Halvorson asked Doha to discuss how concepts like tearfulness and brokenness affect the capacity for agency and form social possibilities within Islamic tradition. Doha responded that though he focuses on the “death world” created by security regimes, his subjects find agency through their commitment to traditional practices even in fragments.

Professor Nadia El-Shaarawi asked why centering emotion and felt experience is important for his ethnographic approach, especially when dealing with subjects of violence. Doha explained emotionality serves as an exterior interaction rather than a purely interior state. He argued that tapping into felt experiences captures the “excess” of human experience that language often fails to convey.

 

~ Stephen Owusu Badu `27

This article was written in response to “Land Grant Universities” by Michael Banerjee, published in Washington University Law Review Online on Jan. 19, 2026.

For more than 200 years, the College has stood above the Kennebec River, and for about a century, Miller Library has been a fixture among its rolling hills. In Waterville, the College is both a landmark and a lifeline, a place defined for its rigorous classes and ringing Lomier Chapel bells. The campus feels certain of itself, rooted. 

But roots reach deeper than architecture and bells. Beneath the lawns and stone foundations lies a longer story, one that stretches back years before the first brick was even laid. Long before students crossed the hill from class to class, the land was home to the Wabanaki people. 

Between 1815 and 1861, the College received over 52,000 acres through two large land grants from state governments. In 1815, Massachusetts awarded 29,164 acres to what was then the Maine Literary and Theological Institution. Nearly five decades later, in 1861, the newly independent state of Maine granted an additional 23,040 acres to the College. 

These numbers are similar to that of the acreage received by many universities under the Morrill Act of 1862, which was passed by Congress and seen as landmark legislation for public education in the country. Through this act, each state would be granted 30,000 acres of land per congressional representative. States then sold these lands and used the proceeds to establish colleges and universities focused on agriculture, applied arts, and military science. 

Yet, the College has never identified with this land-grant heritage, and the history itself has remained largely vague. This raises considerations about how American universities and colleges are defined and categorized. 

The lands granted to the College, much like those distributed under the Morrill Act, were once Indigenous territory. The Wabanaki Confederacy—comprising the Penobscot, Passamaquoddy, Abenaki, Maliseet, and Mi’kmaq nations—has inhabited what is now Maine for over 10,000 years. Waterville itself sits on traditional Wabanaki land, where Indigenous communities sustained themselves through fishing, hunting, and agriculture along the Kennebec River for a duration of time long before European colonization.

Across the country, universities are looking into their own historical relationships with Indigenous peoples and lands. A 2020 investigation into Morrill Act–based institutions revealed that these universities collectively received nearly 11 million acres of Indigenous land, which created much wealth through sales and subsequent development. 

For the College, recognizing its land-grant origins could open new pathways for engagement with Wabanaki communities in Maine. Some universities have responded to similar histories by developing partnerships with tribal nations, creating educational programs that highlight Indigenous knowledge and perspectives, or establishing scholarship funds for Native students. Others have focused on land acknowledgments, historical research projects, or collaborative initiatives that benefit both the institution and Indigenous communities.

The Wabanaki nations maintain a significant presence in Maine today, with tribal communities working to preserve their languages, cultures, and sovereign rights while addressing modern challenges in education, economic development, and healthcare. Greater connection between Maine’s educational institutions and these communities could benefit both parties through shared knowledge and cultural exchange. 

The College’s story reflects broader patterns in American higher education. Like many institutions, its history intertwines with narratives of land distribution, Indigenous peoples, and the development of public education. Understanding these connections provides a fuller picture of how American colleges and universities came to be and the complex legacies they carry with them.

As conversations about institutional history and Indigenous relationships continue across the country, the College has an opportunity to contribute to this important dialogue. The land-grant heritage represents a significant part of its story, offering opportunities to understand the College’s foundations and explore connections with the communities whose lands contributed to its establishment.

 

~ Mia Dinunzio `28

The latest government shutdown began at 12:01 a.m. on October 1, 2025, when Congress failed to pass either a continuing resolution, or full-year appropriations for the new fiscal year. For the next 43 days, it would lead to the longest government shutdown in the history of the United States, as Democrats and Republicans remained in a deadlock. On November 10, the Senate approved a bipartisan spending bill, the House followed on November 12, and President Trump signed, reopening the government again. 

As Congress moved to reopen the government, many Americans hoped that the resolution would be a turning point. Instead, Government Professor Nicholas Jacobs says the shutdown’s end highlights a pattern that has defined Washington for years: political brinkmanship fuels spectacle and uncertainty, and almost never leads to any real meaningful policy change.

“Shutdowns don’t work,” Jacobs said. “They don’t create leverage, they don’t produce policy wins, and they don’t change the underlying political incentives. They’re a very dramatic way of proving that Congress has run out of ideas.”

Jacobs also notes that while shutdowns often draw much media attention, they tend to leave the political landscape almost exactly as they began. This latest showdown, he argues, was no different. 

The country’s overall public opinion barely budged during the course of the showdown, largely because views were set long before the funding lapse started. “Minds were already made up,” Jacobs explained. “Democrats blamed Trump. Republicans blamed Democrats. Independents reminded themselves why they were independent, because both parties are in it for themselves. So nothing has really changed.”

In his view, shutdowns have become a type of predictable ritual: each political side starts to point fingers, claims moral high-ground, then waits for the other to fold, while voters and citizens alike are left dealing with frustration and growing fatigue. Jacobs believes that if anything changes, it’s not ideology, but a heightened sense of distrust. Here it seems there is a widening gap between public expectations and what our political institutions actually deliver. 

One of the most serious long term effects, Jacobs argues, is the weakening of the public’s trust. “People see leaders who seem more animated by the fight than by the function,” he said. “And they draw the obvious conclusion: if the system can’t manage something as basic as keeping itself open, why should anyone believe it can deliver on bigger promises?”

For all the tension that exists, dealing with, and subsequently ending the shutdown avoided none of the policy issues that caused it in the first place. “The shutdown didn’t solve any underlying policy problems,” he said. “Democrats passed the law that allowed premium ACA subsidy credits to sunset because they were tied to the COVID emergency, and that reality is now colliding with higher premiums and insurer uncertainty.” 

Economically, the aftermath from that policy debate looms larger than the existence of the shutdown itself. The idea of restarting the government just to bring federal workers back online and restore services seems like a good idea — a reboot of some sorts — but it does not address the deeper structural issues that sit within the healthcare system. “The shutdown’s end changes none of that,” Jacobs said. “It just restarts the clock on a set of problems Congress hasn’t addressed.”

He also pointed to a subtle political shift seeping out from some progressives. “… [S]ome progressives are starting to ask whether they should keep spending scarce political capital defending a policy that isn’t actually stabilizing healthcare and whether that loyalty is driven more by attachment to Obama’s legacy than by an honest assessment of what’s working.” 

Looking past the policy fights, the actual human and institutional costs of the showdown were quieter, but still important. While federal workers will eventually get their back pay, Jacobs warned of the collective damage caused by the disrupted services. “… [P]rocessing delays, slowed benefits, research interruptions and the quiet administrative work that keeps programs moving,” he said. “Those aren’t dramatic, but they accumulate.”

For institutions and educational services like the College, the shutdown posed little immediate threat. “Colby, frankly, isn’t hit very hard,” Jacobs said. “We don’t depend on large federal grant pipelines, and this isn’t a crunch period for visas or major aid processing, so most of the turbulence barely reached campus this time around.” Still, he cautioned against complacency, for higher education relies on an extensive web of federal support like, as Jacobs referenced, “FAFSA timing, IRS verification, NSF review cycles.” These structures are often invisible until there is an issue at hand that must be rectified.  

 “Shutdowns reveal how much even well-resourced colleges rely on quiet, invisible federal machinery… and how brittle those systems have become,” Jacobs said. “So while Colby isn’t squeezed this time, it’s a reminder that higher education is only as stable as the federal infrastructure it quietly leans on.”

As students start to prepare for Thanksgiving break and as Washington settles back into its usual rhythm, Jacobs believes the lessons from this shutdown should be clear, especially for young people in America witnessing her governance in real time. His message is simple: “Shutdowns don’t work. Brinksmanship doesn’t work.”

The shutdown may have come to an end, but the political motivations that made it possible remain strong. For Jacobs, that is where the real takeaway lies: not just in the drama of confrontation, but a deeper instability. Without foundational reform put in place, he warns, future shutdowns are not just possible, but likely inevitable to occur. 

 

 

~ Mia Dinunzio `28

This past Friday evening, the Student Programming Board (SPB) and Powder & Wig, the College’s student-run theater club, hosted a Murder Mystery Dinner in Foss Dining Hall. The hour-long immersive experience featured a special buffet menu and a performance of the play, This Murder Was Staged.

Attendees were required to reserve a table in advance for one of two showtimes, which were offered back-to-back from 5 to 6 p.m. and from 6:15 to 7:15 p.m. The second showing was in such high demand that they opened an additional six tables to accommodate. According to Ava Beringer `27, publicity chair of Powder & Wig, the cast was excited about the turnout. 

“So many people showed up. Usually we have really great, supportive crowds for Powder & Wig, but… I feel like we attracted more of a general audience who were there for the delicious food and then also, you know, there’s a show going on,” Beringer said. Katelyn Puglia `27, director of This Murder Was Staged, added, “It was really exciting to have a ton of people come to our show who maybe haven’t seen a Powder & Wig show before… I’m hoping that maybe they continue to come to our shows or even get involved themselves.”

No “Murder Mystery Dinner” can be considered complete without a delicious menu. The culinary offerings of the night were diverse, on-theme, and vegetarian-friendly. Each of the twenty-two dishes and drinks was designed to pair perfectly with the show. Audience favorites included Bloody Beet Hummus, Graveyard Chili, and Death by Cheesecake Bites.  

Puglia found that working with dining services to achieve her vision for the night was a piece of cake. Dining staff designed the entire menu, putting thought and care into each edible creation. In her words, “Dining really went above and beyond. I really appreciate everything they did for this show. I was able to, at one of the SPB meetings, chat with them a little bit about our ideas and themes, and then they came up with pretty much all of [the menu].”

She was impressed not only by their commitment to ensuring the evening went smoothly, but also by their genuine enthusiasm about supporting such a unique student-led event, and went on to say that “[a]ll the dining staff were talking to me saying how excited they were for the show, and I just really appreciated how willing they were to collaborate with students.”

After everyone had filed in and sat down at their assigned tables with plates piled high, Puglia mounted the stage, bringing the volume of the room down to a hush. She gave a quick thanks to the audience, cast, and crew, and the play began. 

Performing in Foss Dining Hall was not without its challenges. Powder & Wig was tasked with staying true to the play’s script, working with the constraints of the building, and attempting to make the show an immersive experience for the audience. Puglia, describing the process of shortening the original script to account for limited time, explained, “It was definitely a collaborative thing of deciding what would work in the space.” Throughout the play, performers made use of the stage at the east end of the dining hall, spoke from the top of the large staircase at the entrance, and walked amongst the audience members in the main seating area.

Multiple cast members, including McKenzie Martin `26 and Beringer, played two roles, requiring costume changes. However, Foss does not have a green room, which is a space performers traditionally use for changing and resting between scenes. Their quick costume changes instead took place in a small alcove separated from the main seating area by a wall. Martin found that “[i]t was unconventional, but… it worked.”  

Each cast member was very involved in the costume design. Puglia found that people were eager to figure out what would work best for their characters and “[a] lot of people came up with their own ideas for their costumes and their costume changes, so it was really cool to see what people did with that. People definitely got creative, and it turned out really well.” 

Beringer, who wore an adhesive mustache for one of her roles, disclosed that “[t]he mustache was falling off, but that honestly made it more fun.” She enjoyed finding the humor in the unexpected moments, like performing with a half-glued mustache, that arose throughout the back-to-back performances, and shared that “[i]t was a comedy, so… if you have to do improv at any point, there’s always a way to make it fun because it’s just, at the end of the day, we’re just having fun.” 

Various members of the cast credited the high audience turnout and success of the event in part to the College’s supportive atmosphere. Beringer expressed that “[s]omething so great about Colby is just how close knit and supportive everyone is,” and was eager to applaud “the culture at Colby of supporting each other’s art.” Catie Corkery `28 said, “The community and the collaboration, especially for this show, were… really cool to experience.” 

Building community that is supportive and uplifting is important to the College, and it is also a core aspect of Powder & Wig. The club was founded in 1926, when the men’s and women’s theater groups decided to join together, creating a new group that welcomed all. Next year, the entirely student-run club will celebrate its hundredth anniversary. Puglia noted, “Students have been doing this and keeping this going for so long.” The club’s endurance indicates the passion and dedication of its many generations of members.

Powder & Wig has been a very meaningful part of many students’ experiences here at the College. Beringer has appreciated “having an outlet at Colby to do theater in a super chill environment with a bunch of super talented people.” For Martin, the community has sealed the deal, and she asserted that “everyone [she’s] met [in Powder & Wig], [she’s] had a good experience with.” Puglia was able to explore an entirely new facet of her creativity through her involvement with the club. She said, “Doing Powder & Wig was the first time I’ve ever had, like, speaking roles in plays.” She is now the club’s president. 

In Puglia’s experience, the accessible nature of Powder & Wig has been one of the club’s strengths. She made a point to extend an invitation to everyone in the College community, “Even if you have no theater experience or no directing experience or no tech experience, you can come be a part of Powder & Wig… If people want to get involved, they can definitely reach out to us. We’re always looking for show submissions, for people who want to act and do tech.”

Careful observers may have noticed that the publicity for the dinner described it as the “First Annual” Murder Mystery Dinner, implying intent to host this event yearly. Puglia said only that it’s “something [they’ll] look into doing again for sure.” 

Whether or not another Murder Mystery Dinner ever graces the stage of Foss Dining Hall, this foray into the world of dinner theater was certainly a rousing success for Powder & Wig. Congratulations are owed to the director, the actors, and the many other members of the College community who contributed effort and enthusiasm every step of the way.

 

 

~ Anna Izquierdo `29