Of course, that has not been the case. Instead, I find myself and my peers increasingly in the dark about the current state of COVID-19 at the College. Every day I hear about more of my peers testing positive. I wonder if I am surrounded by COVID-19 and if our student body is drowning in the dark.

While testing can be optional, publishing data, despite risking a biased sample, is a necessity given the current state of affairs. According to the Sept. 26 Senate report, Dean Horton claimed that only about 500 students have registered for on-campus testing, this is still a large enough sample of the Wellesley population to glean meaningful data about incidences of COVID-19 on this campus. The lack of a live COVID-19 dashboard is leaving students without the tools to make informed decisions about their safety and how they engage with the community. The college is instead choosing to lean into plausible deniability rather than address the issue at hand. 

Plausible deniability is the concept that an administration or chain of command can deny responsibility for events due to a lack of evidence that the problem exists, or that the problem is perpetrated by said administration. In this case, the administration is failing to acknowledge that a lack of COVID-19 policies has resulted in the virtually uncontrolled spread of COVID-19 across campus spaces – and failing to acknowledge the threat that these cases pose to students. The College also continues to ignore the outcry from the student body regarding the uncontrolled spread, instead arguing that peer institutions have had similarly relaxed guidelines since last semester.

I find the College’s inaction regarding the current COVID-19 outbreak on campus to be entirely against its core mission. The College has always advertised itself as a place where it encourages students to create change when they deem a system to be flawed. The College has always prided itself on being an institution that does not feel the need to settle for societal standards and policies that other institutions still cling to, but rather being an institution where the needs of the student body are prioritized. I am not encouraging administrators to send everyone home, make classes remote or even bring back mask mandates. I am simply asking that critical data needed to make a well-informed decision about my own safety should be easily accessible and frequently updated. While I wish that the COVID-19 policies did more to serve immunocompromised students, such as by isolating students who have tested positive for COVID-19 offsite rather than in the dorm, bringing back the dashboard would be an excellent first step on the road of greater care and transparency regarding the spread of COVID-19 on campus. Students who do test positive are left with the metaphorical equivalent of a smoke alarm, but no way to call 911 in case of a fire.

Without clear communication and acknowledgment of the unrelenting spread of COVID-19 on campus, we will not begin to see a decrease in incidental cases. In a year defined by “personal choices”, I ask that the College equips us with the information we need to make said decisions.

The Wellesley News (TWN): What is the title and main topic of your thesis?

Troccoli: “When Democracy Bites: Violent Repression in Colombia and Venezuela.” I discussed two cases where I argue that the same phenomenon was ongoing, that this strategic calculation allowed for states to feel comfortable employing repression.

Martinez-Lopez: “Characterization of Meningeal B Cells in a Murine Model of Multiple Sclerosis.” My thesis is focused on characterizing immune cell clusters. And by characterizing, I mean trying to determine when they’re most optimal during the disease progression of our mice, seeing how they’re correlated to other features of multiple sclerosis, like demyelination and ultimately all to better model multiple sclerosis and mice and hopefully use them for the development of therapeutics.

TWN: What was the most interesting finding or application of your thesis?

Troccoli:  One thing that I found during my research was that a lot of the explanations for why violent repression happened were systematic. There’s a lot of impunity, or that there is criminal violence in general, or that there’s a culture that gives a lot of weight or importance to the military. And all of those things are absolutely true about Venezuela, Colombia, and many of the cases that I looked at, […] but they didn’t explain the timing, or the intensity of the repression. I thought to myself, why do these incidents happen? Why do governments sometimes decide to repress so violently? Why do they employ certain tactics in some situations?

I tried to look at the incentives for [violence], if you would be penalized in some ways, electorally if actually there was greater danger that somebody would step in and take power if you did that or how much of a threat the protesters are considered to be. I analyzed all those factors and came up with an explanation that I think can, in some ways, predict when repression is going to be violent.

Martinez-Lopez: My thesis was a characterization project, so [it] wasn’t necessarily hypothesis-driven. But we can model features of multiple sclerosis in mice, and that these models may be similar to what we actually see in humans. It’s a one-of-a-kind model. One of the key biological or physiological features of a specific type of multiple sclerosis [MS]. MS is the aggregation of immune cells in the meninges, which is this tissue that encapsulates the brain and the spinal cord. So typically, in healthy patients, you don’t see that, but in some multiple sclerosis patients, you see that, so my lab was able to model these lymphocyte aggregates, these immune cell aggregates in the meninges of mice.

TWN: What academic experience has working on your thesis given you?

Troccoli: I had an opportunity to examine a lot of historical documents, but also just theorize and see where they fit. I interviewed a lot of people. And I think interviewing is way harder than it seems, especially because you’re speaking to people who have a government position or you’re trying really hard not to offend them by saying, ‘Oh, you made a bad decision’ or ‘you did something that put a lot of people in danger.’

Martinez-Lopez: I joined the lab [at Washington University] the summer after my sophomore year, right at the peak of COVID. So I joined the lab virtually, and I spent a lot of time reading literature, analyzing data and just getting to know the type of work that the lab was doing. And then I continued to do a bit of work that I could do virtually during my junior year. Towards the end of my junior year, I thought, okay, if I get to be in person in St. Louis this summer, I think I could use a lot of that data for a future thesis.I went to St. Louis this past summer, and I was there for 10 weeks, and I got to collect a lot of data. Since I was already familiar with so many things, it was great, because I just got there and it was time to be hands on.”

While the Davis Museum has served as both a public draw and a critical learning experience for students interested in art history, anthropology and museum studies since its opening in 1889, its collection history is not without controversies. 

Most recently, several artifacts in the Davis collection have come to the attention of students because they originate from the Benin Kingdom in present-day Nigeria. 

According to the a New York Times article from Nov. 5, 2021, Benin City and the Nigerian government have wanted the return of Benin Kingdom artifacts for decades. The artifacts that the Davis possesses, titled “Idiophone in the shape of an ahianmwen-oro” (Bird of Prophecy), “Figure of an Oba” (king) and “Tusk for memorial altar to Oba Osemwende,” are a part of a greater collection of over 3,000 artifacts colloquially known as the Benin Bronzes. All three artifacts date back to the 19th century and originated from the Royal Court of Benin in Benin City, Nigeria.

The artifacts in question were gifted to the Davis Museum from private collectors in the 1950s. The Davis was originally founded as a collection of both authentic and reproduced works of art and photographs so that Wellesley students would be able to learn art history to the best extent possible; the collection of the Davis continued to expand, but this expansion was particularly characterized by donations from private collectors. The lack of provenance, or history of an artifact, can often create sticky situations for museum curators trying to determine if an artifact was obtained ethically.

“Museums typically acquire historical artifacts through a donor or dealer, who doesn’t always know or reveal the full history of how the object came into their possession,” Archaeologist and Wellesley Professor Bryan Burns said. “Without documents proving where an object was found, or when it came into the art market, museums can choose to believe that it has a more benign history.” 

Riya Balachandan ’24 expressed her frustration with the Davis’ housing of the Benin kingdom artifacts. 

“I feel like [having the Benin Kingdom artifacts] is very disingenuous, because the school because of the school’s identity as a [historically white institution] in conflict talking about, I feel like there’s a general attitude, from administration and students that we’re kind of uprooting the status quo in some ways.”

Dr. Amanda Gilvin, the senior director of collections and assistant director of curatorial affairs at the Davis Museum, discussed the Benin Kingdom artifacts the Davis currently houses and how the Davis is rethinking the way it depicts the artifacts’ history. Gilvin specializes in African and African diaspora arts and has been working at the Davis since 2017. She discussed the presentation of the Benin Kingdom artifacts in the gallery, and how the Davis is navigating the broader call for the return of the artifacts.

“I wrote [the exhibit text about the Benin Kingdom] in 2017. It’s very frank about the colonial history of how African art as a canon came to be defined in North America, and the specific cases of the Benin Kingdom artwork,” Gilvin said. “That has been really important as a way of being transparent, and reckoning with the colonial history that impacts all of us.” 

The exhibit text, which describes both the rich history of the Kingdom of Benin and the infamous British raid of the city in 1897, is in need of an update according to Gilvin in order to more accurately portray the colonial context through which many Benin kingdom artifacts have been obtained.

In November 2021, the Smithsonian Institution announced that it would be removing its Benin Bronzes from display as a first step in the process of repatriating the artifacts, or returning them to their cultural contexts. The process of repatriation can be both long and complex but will ultimately allow artifacts to be reunited with their original cultural contexts. 

“There are cases where a museum makes a deal to return artworks without even telling the curators responsible for the collection, and the object is packed up and flown off within a week,” Burns said. “But, more often, an institution makes a statement that they’re going to investigate the situation around a controversial piece, and takes time to evaluate legal obligations while also assessing public opinion.”

The Davis is no stranger to the repatriation process. The Native American Graves Repatriation Act of 1990 is a federal law that states that funerary objects, remains and items of cultural significance pertaining to Native Americans must be returned to their group of origin. 

According to the Davis museum website, “as of August 23, 2017, the Davis has sent ‘Invitation to Consult’ letters to 130 NAGPRA representatives across 14 tribes and nations,” meaning that the museum has invited tribes and nations to investigate artifacts in order to decide whether or not they should be repatriated. 

Additionally, as of the writing of this article, the Davis has achieved “full NAGPRA compliance,” meaning that the Davis does not house artifacts that have previously been the source of NAGPRA-related disputes.

Repatriation of the Benin Bronzes requires international legal action on behalf of the parties claiming the artifacts to be theirs. In the case of the Benin Bronzes, this would mean that the Nigerian government or another institution would have to take legal action in an attempt to reclaim the Benin Bronzes from the Davis. 

Balachandran also discussed her discomfort with the Davis’ lack of action regarding the Benin kingdom artifacts situation, despite the lack of international legal action. 

“So many of these countries that have art that was stolen from them or post colonial states, and may not have the funds to take care of these works because of their histories of being stolen from by these colonizer states,” Balachandran said. “It’s not enough to just return the work. Another important part is to provide financial compensation for the use of the work for so many years.”

The call for the return of the Benin Kingdom artifacts is complicated by the murkiness of to whom they should be returned. According to a BBC article from July 22, 2021, an internal dispute between the Edo state governor, Godwin Obaseki, and the current oba, Ewuare II, who each have their own differing desires for the Benin kingdom artifacts. This dispute has complicated the process of returning Benin Bronzes and other artifacts in both Germany and Britain, which have national museums that previously displayed looted artifacts from Benin. 

In fact, the Davis is not the only institution navigating the repatriation quandary. The Smithsonian Institution Museum of African Art and the Museum of Fine Arts (MFA) in Boston have similarly housed artifacts belonging to the Benin Bronzes collection. While a New York Times article from November 2021 said the Smithsonian has begun the process of removing the Benin Bronzes it possesses from exhibits, a Boston Globe article from the same month said the MFA remains firm in its display of the Benin Bronzes.  

The MFA’s lack of action can partially be attributed to UNESCO best practice conventions that were established to create international standards for curatorial collections. The UNESCO Convention on the Means of Prohibiting and Preventing the Illicit Import, Export and Transfer of Cultural Property of 1970 states that “for objects inventoried and stolen from a museum, public or religious monument, or a similar institution […] parties should undertake appropriate measures to seize and return any cultural property stolen and imported.” However, the convention only applies to artifacts that were obtained by an institution after 1970, leaving many artifacts unreturned yet compliant with the UNESCO standards. This is why the MFA retains many of its otherwise disputed artifacts.

Curators and archaeologists alike are looking to update these practices to better represent the provenance of artifacts while also allowing people from around the world to learn about art from different cultures.

“My colleagues and I are currently participating in multiple efforts to shape new best practices for museums specifically regarding collections of historic African art in North American museums,” Gilvin said. “We need more comprehensive policies to help us assess what responsible stewardship of these objects will be going forward … because then what happens to other objects that we know were taken in illicit colonial warfare?”

To begin the collaborative process, Gilvin believes that establishing a digital database of African art is crucial so that curators and  cultural groups in Africa can easily identify cultural objects of interest. 

“Curators at museums and [in] kingdoms [in Africa] should have the opportunity to request what is desired,” Gilvin said. “This needs to be offered on an institution by institution basis, but also on a much larger scale that provides new kinds of resources for the ongoing stewardship of objects.”

For the time being, the Davis will continue to display its Benin Kingdom artifacts despite the controversy, but will evaluate the situation if it is specifically called upon to return the artifacts. At the time of this article’s publication, no such communication between any parties in Nigeria and the Davis have occurred regarding the artifacts.

In the wake of the ever-changing pandemic, students and faculty alike are beginning to get a better idea of what this year could look like given current safety guidelines. Some students, such as Karishma Gottfried ’23, the house president of Bates, believe that this year will not only give students more social opportunities, despite the current restrictions in place, but also a chance to take more responsibility for their actions and wellbeing.

“I want to be making the decisions that are safest for my community,” Gottfried said. “I think about it within that context — what actions am I taking that are keeping my community safe? And what actions am I taking that are putting my community at risk?”

While there are fewer restrictions in place this year than last, some students are still concerned about how the current rules will shape yet another year of uncertainty at Wellesley. Vin Chang ’24 worries that despite the current restrictions, some students will still choose to party off-campus, putting the Wellesley community at risk.

“People are still going to party in Boston, despite the restrictions,” Chang said. “People still hung out in other people’s rooms last year. In a lot of the other parts of the world, people are still partying.” 

Similarly to Gottfried, Chang believes that this year will be about taking personal responsibility for the well-being of others. 

“I feel like even those students who are out partying are trying to be as safe as possible,” Chang said. 

Ana Fernandez ’24, an RA in Munger Hall, believes that the success of this year’s residential experience hinges on avoiding risky situations altogether.

“I’ve been telling my residents to be COVID safe, even outside of Wellesley because that’ll impact Wellesley ultimately,” Fernandez said. “If a resident goes out to Boston and goes to a frat party where there are hundreds of maskless and unvaccinated people, then this is all for naught.”

Like many students, Chang feels that last year’s restrictions created a less than ideal college environment.

“I feel like [last year] people were frustrated with the social barriers that they put around us,” Chang said. “You feel like you’re not getting the full college experience because of it.”

Some students, such as Fernandez, were initially worried that the new rules would mark a return to the isolation and steep restrictions from last year. While many students hope to avoid an increase in COVID-19 cases, the potential threat of isolation from peers may be more at the forefront of students’ concerns. Even in the face of these concerns, however, res life staff are confident that this year will prove to hold much more freedom for the student body. 

“Our initial fear that [the new guidelines] were a retreat back to last year is false, especially for now. Because we’re seeing that we can be out in the community.” Fernandez said.

Despite this year’s lingering restrictions, students are confident that this year will be a huge improvement on last year’s college experience. For example, despite the new restrictions, the college has remained firm on its allowance of student travel to Boston. Students also remain hopeful about this year’s new social opportunities, even in the face of a continuing pandemic.

“Being part of Cafe Hoop really turned my Wellesley experience around, and I think that I genuinely don’t know how or if I would have found community and safe space at Wellesley without Cafe Hoop,” Sinha  said. “[Cafe Hoop] is the first place I’ve ever encountered in my life that very intentionally served as a safe space for queer and trans students of color.”

Jill Foye ’22, an El Table member, talked about what El Table contributes to the Wellesley community. 

“[El Table] is so much more than a business. … It’s a very intimate community, and we love each other very much,” Foye described. “[El Table] is crucial to the Wellesley community, specifically to BIPOC populations … because we specifically carve it out to be a safe space, specifically QTBIPOC students. So it is important in that respect, in a pretty irreplaceable community on campus, both for members and non-members to feel like they belong somewhere.”

Additionally, these co-ops serve as critical components of the Wellesley nightlife experience, which interviewees said can be otherwise sparse. Paloma Calderón-Carabantes ’21, the current general manager of Cafe Hoop, described another facet of Wellesley’s need for Cafe Hoop.

“Cafe Hoop was really reliable, it’s there every day. If you’re in your room and you want to get out at midnight, you can go do that,” Calderón-Carabantes said. “When the sun goes down, what is there to do in this town? Absolutely nothing, but there was Cafe Hoop at least.”

Despite these spaces playing a key role in Wellesley’s LGBTQ+ and BIPOC communities, the College’s administration announced that both Cafe Hoop and El Table would be unable to reopen this year during Term 4 as was previously hoped. After students drafted plans and presented their proposals for a safe re-opening,  they were ultimately still unable to reopen due to safety concerns. For many students, especially those who called these co-ops home, this announcement was not only a let-down, but also a troubling sign for what may be to come during the Fall semester.

[Cafe Hoop] is the first place I’ve ever encountered in my life that very intentionally served as a safe space for queer and trans students of color.

Many co-op members are also dissatisfied with the administration’s lack of transparency regarding the status of their co-ops. Despite Hoop members writing a proposal that includes take-out options, social distancing, mask-wearing and thorough cleaning of the space, administration did not let Cafe Hoop open for Term 4, citing that if the cafe opening were to cause a spike in COVID-19 cases, it might interfere with the College’s graduation ceremony plans. 

“It was definitely frustrating, considering the reasons for us not being able to reopen was so that people wouldn’t get sick or end up in quarantine during graduation,” Medhanit Felleke ’21, the current general manager of El Table, explained. “It seemed like a decision that they had made for themselves well before we had submitted our reopening plan. … I don’t know why we weren’t notified sooner.”

Additionally, both co-ops have concerns about making up for lost time both within their staff, and in the broader community. In the time since the co-ops have been forced to shut their doors, not only have new students joined the Wellesley community without ever visiting these spaces, but both have continued to hire new students in hopes of staffing a potential reopening.

Karla Macias ’22, a general member of Cafe Hoop, explained their concerns about re-opening next fall. Because Cafe Hoop has been closed for over a year now, many new staffers have never gotten the chance to actually work in the cafe. 

“It’s been [almost] three semesters since I’ve been in [the cafe] without doing things, without managing stuff all around,” Macias explained. “We’ve hired [new members] for three semesters now and  those people have never stepped foot or cooked their own thing, so we’re going to have to teach a lot of people everything that we know.”

Additionally, many underclassmen are not yet familiar with these co-op spaces because they have been unavailable for the majority of their time at Wellesley. Macias elaborated, “There’s a whole first-year class that doesn’t really know [Cafe Hoop]. So we’re really going to try and just build it back up and like, make it what it once was.”

We have so many plans that we can’t wait to share with you next year.

During the co-op closures, staff members of both groups have been without their previously anticipated income, which is particularly troubling since both cafes employ many first-generation and low-income students who would benefit the most from an income.

“The loss of income was definitely felt. Financially, we had some fundraising efforts, and the community really rallied around us — which we really appreciate — to pay back our debts from last semester when we had to close the first time,” Kelly explained. “But there’s still some financial instability that really would have been alleviated if we were able to reopen.”

While the future for both co-ops remains somewhat uncertain, students are hopeful that they will reopen in full during this coming fall. Until then, members of the organizations will continue to brainstorm innovative ways to respark their businesses and spaces whenever they are allowed to reopen.

“At the end of the summer, we hope to reopen. We have a lot of ideas for what we can do — different menu items, different ways we want to have our space interact with the community,” Felleke said. “We have so many plans that we can’t wait to share with you next year.”

Recently, El Table has launched a fundraising campaign to provide employees with wages. If you are interested in supporting the staff of El Table, please click the link here.

Many seniors are questioning  why the College committed to a plan that was originally released in December, back when Massachusetts was exceeding more than 5,000 new cases of COVID-19 per day and vaccinations had barely just begun. Now, almost five months later, other institutions in Massachusetts such as MIT, Northeastern University and Smith College have announced fully in-person commencement ceremonies, and all Americans age 16 or older are eligible for the vaccine. . 

Lizzy Kong ’21 expressed her confusion regarding Wellesley’s choice to continue forward with the plan from December despite vaccine distribution rates and in-person commencements at surrounding schools. Kong, who is studying on campus this semester, also expressed her frustration about the lack of inclusion of remote seniors and their families. 

 “ I was hoping that with all of this news, the administration might be able to keep an open mind [and] hold off on anything definitive about commencement,” Kong said. “So when they did send that email, it just was kind of like a slap in the face.”

Other seniors, such as Abigail Taiwo ’21, were not surprised about the administration’s decision to not offer an in-person commencement ceremony for students studying remotely. 

“Ever since the pandemic started, I’ve lowered my expectations for things,” she said adding that she anticipated that commencement was going to be hybrid. 

Taiwo, who is studying remotely, also said that ”there seems to be more emphasis on just focusing on the people who are on campus and neglecting everyone who is off-campus.”

Mona Smucker ’21 is also studying remotely, but nearby. 

“I’m actually in Boston, so I feel like [not being able to attend commencement] is even more frustrating,” Smucker said. “For most of us, it wasn’t really a choice whether or not we came off or on campus. It was due to either finances or [for me] it was because I was signed into a lease and I couldn’t break it.”

In a statement to The News, the Office of Communications explained why the school still opted for a virtual commencement for seniors, rather than switching course to an in-person celebration with or without guests. 

“Our seniors are studying all over the world and from a public health perspective at this time, it would not be responsible to encourage them to travel, and to invite so many people to our campus,” the statement read.  

The statement added that at this time there are not any plans to change the current graduation ceremony, regardless of student vaccination efforts or a decline in COVID-19 cases.

Despite the College’s justifications, however, some seniors believe that public health is not the only motivator for a hybrid-style commencement, given that almost all students will have access to vaccines by the time commencement occurs.

“It seems more like a money issue … it’s frustrating that we have probably the best capability of almost any college around here to do it safely,” Smucker said. “We are pretty rich.” 

Other seniors have also raised the question as to why Wellesley is not putting funding that would otherwise be spent on end-of-the-year events into allowing remote students to join the commencement ceremony. 

“We’re not getting all of these things that we usually get, so where’s our extra money going? If it’s not put into good efforts to get off-campus seniors to go to their own graduation, then I don’t understand what it possibly could [be spent on],” Kong said.

Some seniors also believe that for remote students, the College’s disregard for their  experience will leave a sour stain on their Wellesley experience for years to come.

“A lot of these people are not going to want … anything that has to do with Wellesley after they graduate. I know personally, they’re gonna hit me with that five-year reunion notification, [and] I’m going to delete the email,” Taiwo said. “The current me right now cannot say I would recommend Wellesley to other students, because I don’t think they would treat you fairly … At Wellesley, you get nothing. There’s no care package. Just nothing.”

Despite student outcry and a hopeful future ahead, Wellesley’s administration has said they will not be re-evaluating its plans. The College cites public health and the short break between Term 4 ending and commencement as the biggest roadblocks preventing a fully in-person ceremony at this time.

As long as I can remember, I’ve known where I “came from.” I was raised by a “single mother by choice.” I never had to live through a challenging realization like my less fortunate half siblings. Despite this, however, I have still felt alienated by society to the extent that I feel deeply conflicted about my identity. I have often felt like my identity as a donor-conceived person has been sandwiched between an alienating media narrative and an unfeeling assisted-conception industry. Unlike my childhood counterparts who had divorced, gay or deceased parents, there was no picture book or episode of Sesame Street to validate my foggy developing sense of identity. While being donor-conceived may seem like a fairly new identity that is too novel for people to understand, this could not be further from the truth.

According to a study published in 2019, the first documented instance of a donor-conceived birth occurred in 1881, and as the fertility industry continued to grow, donor-assisted conception became an increasingly popular method of childbearing. In fact, in 2010 alone, an estimated 60,000 donor-conceived babies were born in the US. With the increasing prevalence of diverse family types, donor conception is more popular than ever. If this is the case, then why are individuals like me seldom, if ever, represented in the media in a favorable light?

When you hear the words “sperm-donor,” you probably think of news stories about people discovering that they were one of 45 half siblings, usually culminating in a heartwarming “reunion” between donor and offspring. While these stories play right into the “tear-jerker” category that American news outlets seem obsessed with, they celebrate the donor rather than the individuals who only exist because of their donor, who have no choice in the manner of their existence. The media often hails sperm donors as altruistic and heroic men who give women the chance to have babies even when no other man will get near the woman. Women who use donated sperm, however, are seen as desperate and unhinged people who will do anything for a nuclear family. This stark contrast between the treatments of donors and parents is just one instance of internalized misogyny and the dehumanization of those who are donor-conceived that plagues society.

For example, TV shows and movies touch upon stories of parents and donor-conceived families in a less than flattering light. In one of my most beloved shows, Parks and Recreation, Ann Perkins decides that after years of failed relationships, she wants to become a mom. This is a common narrative among single parents by choice and a perfectly reasonable decision, especially if the parent is nearing menopause. Instead of respecting her friend’s choice, Leslie Knope decides that Ann is acting irrationally. Leslie points out that a lot of the sperm donors in the catalogue are creeps from the town they live in and paints her friend’s decision as a symptom of desperation and depression. In the end, Ann selects her good friend and future husband as her sperm donor, and thus the nuclear family is preserved in all of its glory. Ann’s children narrowly escape the fate of being one of dozens of carbon copies of Joe “the sewage guy,” because that is how sperm donation works in the media. In reality, donor-conceived children are far more a product of their environment than what the media portrays — my donor was allegedly gifted at math and science, but let’s just say you’ll never see me portrayed by Matt Damon on screen.

Another more harmful portrayal that shaped my own self-perception is that of Jan from NBC’s The Office. Jan, who is portrayed throughout the show as a manic-depressive cougar, is one of the most well-known characters in TV who turns to sperm donation for conception. Unlike Ann Perkins, however, Jan never ends up picking out someone she knows as her donor or falling in love with said donor. Instead, she ends up raising her daughter, Astrid, on her own, much to the chagrin of the rest of the characters on the show. Astrid’s conception is seen as a cry for help and is treated like it is unspeakable by Jan’s coworkers. Seeing this in such a widely known and loved show made me often wonder if people viewed me and my mother the same way — was I just a product of an impulse purchase?

While I know the answer to that question is no, it is a symptom of a much bigger issue  — the objectification of donor-conceived children. In The Office, Astrid is treated as nothing but a punchline to a joke that is, quite frankly, not that funny. Ann Perkins’ kids are saved from this objectification only because their biological parents end up married anyways, sparing them the freakdom that befalls others. The gamete donation industry similarly does not care about offspring. If you are struggling with a rare health condition and need access to the medical record of a parent, tough luck. Petitioning sperm banks to get detailed health records or the donor’s contact info is an uphill battle at best and often results in lawsuits, costing families hundreds of thousands of dollars in some cases. If the assisted conception industry actually saw us as people, then why would they keep us in the dark about information that could mean the difference between life and death? As soon as the monetary transaction occurs, it’s not the company’s problem anymore if there are issues or questions. To the cryobank to which I owe my entire existence, I am nothing more than a product that has been sold without a warranty.

This is not to say that donor-conceived children do not love themselves or live happy lives. As much as I wish I knew my biological father, I love the person I have become today. I am the second oldest of 15 wonderful half siblings, seven of whom I interact with on a fairly regular basis. I am looking forward to hopefully unraveling the colossal mystery that lays in front of us alongside them. With the help of services such as ancestry.com, it is easier than ever to learn about where you came from. At the same time, I am very fortunate to be in good health. Some donor-conceived children I know are not, which opens up another big issue of misleading health documentation by donors who are looking to maximize profit.

In the end, I cannot change where I came from, but I can hope that someday society will view people like me not as impulse purchases or science experiments performed by emotionally unstable parents, but as individuals with a complex and deeply fascinating family tree. And if you consider assisted conception in the future, I hope that you will purchase with the ethics of the industry in mind.