Alice Ye

I’m not running out of ambition. I’m running because I can no longer sleep, thinking about our society’s destiny.

The Russian soul matters because it holds within it a fierce, unyielding spirit — a spirit forged in the fires of hardship and hope. It is a soul that embraces both light and darkness, joy and sorrow, faith and doubt. It reminds us that to be Russian is to carry a story of endurance, compassion, and a relentless search for meaning beyond what the world sees.

If this is to be a truly free and peaceful Russian Speaking society, then we must unite: to drink pickle juice instead of matcha, whisper poetry to birch trees, name our poodles with Russian names (I named mine Maksimka), and reclaim the borshch-scented, soil-loving, soul-breaking truth of who we are.

This is not a campaign. This is a calling.

• I’ve been reading Pushkin, Lermontov, Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, Blok since I was five. Quiz me.
• I was waitlisted by Harvard for Russian literature before I came here.
• My LinkedIn is all about Russian literature.
• I grew up in my dvor with 3rd-gen Russian-Chinese homies. I love my dvor.
• I walk into every classroom bearing Pushkin in my blood and Yesenin in my breath.

I make borshch every three days. Vote for me, and we’ll have weekly borscht parties. We’ll pickle vegetables like true Slavs in every corner of Imperial—from the campus to the dorm, from the library to the trees.

Vote accordingly. You already know the truth.