In the bustling halls of academia at Columbia, a poignant drama unfolds. The interim president issues a message from high above the ivory towers, seemingly trapped in a graphic novel where plot twists abound, concerned about ICE agents potentially swooping down on protesters. But here’s the real plot twist—she’s not fretting about students who perpetuate vitriol but those possibly targeted by ICE. Meanwhile, Jewish students, who have been at the center of controversy regarding the university’s actions, are navigating an increasingly hostile environment, with the administration’s alleged inaction having previously led to funding cuts.

The uproar began, not with a bang, but with a gut-wrenching act that made global headlines. A notorious organization, known for its theatrical brutality in the Middle East, wreaked havoc in a homeland some call the Holy Land. These aren’t scenes from a dystopian film but tragic events impacting real families. People were attacked and killed, left with only destruction and despair. And yet, protests cropped up around the world, taking a pro-Palestinian stance opposing Israel’s actions, rather than explicitly endorsing the instigators.

Let’s pause and consider one figure among this chaos, a former student named Khalil. He entered the U.S. on a green card, only to become embroiled in controversies that raise questions beyond academics and meritocracy. It’s as if Kafka took up residence on campus: bureaucratic, absurd, yet fully tangible. Shouldn’t the rule of law apply? Green cards aren’t lifetime memberships. They can expire, much like library books, and, yes, Khalil, like everyone, should have his day in court. Yet, while students dodge insults, the focus brews on technicalities rather than ethics.

Amidst the ideological crossfire, one contemplates the real victims here—a vulnerable community under siege, both abroad and at home. Thrown into this cauldron of campus life are students constantly glancing over their shoulders. If only they could concentrate on passing exams rather than passing threats in narrow corridors. It’s a break-your-heart scenario, one previously chronicled in history books, now unfolding in real-time for a new generation.

So, what’s the takeaway from this real-world melodrama? Perhaps it’s a call to restore clarity and sanity to the identity crisis of higher education. After all, shouldn’t the hallowed halls be bastions of enlightenment, not breeding grounds for confusion and divisive agendas? Let’s refocus, bringing both hearts and minds back to those in genuine need of empathy and protection.