2025 brought a reckoning to the nation and its universities.
The country, deeply divided, has reached a point of disillusionment. Leaders, institutions and citizens are reassessing the commitments and protections that once anchored the systems governing us. President Donald Trump’s return to power set off a cascade of policy shifts, testing what these systems truly value, which words carry weight and which promises will hold under pressure.
Higher education has been at the forefront of this reckoning. Threats to federal funding, crackdowns on diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives, disputes over “wokeness” in academia, new tax provisions, federal loan cuts and changes to visa policies and travel bans have shaken universities.
At GW, international student enrollment is faltering. Funding options for graduate school are narrowing. Federal agencies have cut research grants and projects and reportedly threatened further action tied to DEI hiring practices. The Justice Department found the University in violation of civil rights law and signaled enforcement measures unless they reach a resolution agreement. Many in the community live with fear as national shifts and accelerated institutional budget cuts disrupt their education, work, families, support systems and sense of security. Campus, like the rest of the country, is growing more polarized.
The rise of generative artificial intelligence compounds these fractures. In a culture grappling with widening social divides, escalating political violence and a need for greater human connection and empathy, the stakes of communication are high. What weight do words carry when algorithms can generate them endlessly, without lived experience behind them? AI forces a reckoning with care, discernment and human judgment.
Universities are under close observation as the social, political and academic landscape shifts. At GW, officials have signed letters condemning federal overreach and pushing back against NIH cuts. They confirmed they are not considering Trump’s higher education compact, retained a lobbying firm for higher education issues and launched an AI strategy project. But they face criticism from community members who say the University is retreating from DEI commitments, cutting personnel and resources without adequate consultation, leaving faculty to navigate outdated AI guidelines and failing to explain decisions reshaping campus life.
At this moment, The Hatchet’s work documenting the fear, hope and uncertainty running through GW and Foggy Bottom is crucial. We record how financial, political and institutional decisions shape the daily lives of the tens of thousands of students, faculty and staff who care deeply about the University. The content we produce each week depends on people talking to us, reading us and engaging with what we report. The Hatchet’s work is imperfect, but it is deeply human.
Increasingly, that feels like the point.
It’s a strange time to be running a student newspaper. Hardly a day goes by when I don’t have a conversation with a staff member about what’s happening in higher education, in the country, in the world. About what it means for the future of GW. The future of journalism. The future of how we communicate. How we live. How we exist with each other, both professionally and personally.
Many of these conversations both reflect and are shaped by the stories and perspectives our reporters hear from the community. Our work is possible because of you, our readers, who share our belief in the power and potential of the University. Please continue sharing your experiences, feedback, pitches and story tips in the new year.
I hope you will consider supporting The Hatchet with a donation to help us continue covering the stories that matter to our community. We are a 501(c)(3) charitable organization, and all contributions are tax-deductible to the extent allowed by law.
Thank you for reading The Hatchet in 2025. On behalf of our staff, I wish you a safe and happy new year.
