Issue 21 by The Collegian

Ne w s p a p e r o f Wa l l a Wa l l a U n i v e r s i t y

Collegian The

Volume 102 | Issue 21

AIA Attendees pg. 8

“It’s the second puberty that gets ya.” - Geoffrey Lopes, copy editor for The Collegian

April 12, 2018

FROM RESIDENCE HALL TO WEDDING HALL MARRIAGE AT WHITMAN AND WALLA WALLA UNIVERSITY

A SPECIAL SWAP ISSUE WITH WHITMAN COLLEGE

Last Things First college place, wa | walla walla university

| April 2018 Issue 21

Found a Peanut By Meghann Heinrich There I stood, basking in the applause afforded a first grader at her talent show debut. As I watched the audience rise to their feet and saw the tears streaming from my mother’s eyes, I knew this was going to be big. As I looked to my left and right, acknowledging the two other young ladies who made up our dazzling three-person act, I just knew: this was the performance that would launch my career. How did I get to this culminating moment? Well, that, my friends, is the brief and semi-amusing story I will share with you now. Years 2-9 of my life were spent at a lovely summer camp outside Seattle, and, consequently, my sister and I attended the local Adventist school, as per my parents’ wishes. In said school I led a content life primarily concerned with avoiding first grade drama and guarding my hard-earned title of “Sixth-Best Four Square Player in the First Grade.” At that point in my

Hey Thanks! “Hey thanks Google Maps, I don’t know where I’d be without you.” “Hey thanks breakfast cereal for being so much more than your name implies.” “Hey thanks yodeling Walmart boy for being the hero we didn’t know we needed.”

life I was happy; I didn’t feel any compelling need for anything more. I had recess and, on occasion, my teacher was brave enough to let my class practice spelling words in shaving cream on our desks. Life was good. Then one Friday at our school assembly, the principal made an announcement that would change everything forever and always: our school was going to have a talent show. A ripple went through the student body immediately; everyone started whispering among friends, quietly resolving to audition for this auspicious event. I felt compelled to put together some sort of act but didn’t know how to begin or what it would look like. At lunchtime two of my friends approached me. I could tell they meant business by the way they said, “We mean business. Do you want to join our act for the talent show? We are going to sing a song.” My heart leapt—yes, of course I wanted to get in on the ground floor of what was

destined to be the greatest girl band since Spice Girls! The only order of business left was to decide on the song. We landed on the timeless “Found a Peanut”: 1 simple, nuanced and in our collective vocal range. A preliminary audition was required in order to earn a spot in the actual program. We rehearsed daily on the playground, fine-tuning our anthem for the judges. The day of our audition came, and we filed into the audition room where the principal and the kindly school secretary were waiting. I don’t want to come off as conceited, but we killed it. Despite our thrilling acapella rendition of the age-old ballad, the judges seemed wholly unimpressed. I remember the principal congratulating us on a job well done and giving us green light for a place in the program. We were ecstatic, but in the back of my mind, I knew our performance was lacking one thing: razzle dazzle. On the night of our big per-

Verbatim

formance, adrenaline was running high; I sported pigtails and my lucky cow-print jumper—a power outfit. We were prepared, our act was solid, but even so the budding performer in me knew what she had to do. Just before we made our entrance I grabbed my cohorts and whispered, “You guys sing; just ignore me, I’m going off-script!” With that, we three stumbled on stage and my colleagues shakily began to sing “Found a Peanut.” With all eyes on me, my heart pounding, I mustered all the moxie my seven-year-old self had to offer and did the only thing I knew: interpretive dance. I shaped the narrative through entirely unscripted movements, bringing the ballad to life. My character found a peanut, ate it, got a tummy-ache, went to the doctor, had an operation (a vividly accurate self-dissection scene I pulled out of thin air), died on the operating table, went to heaven (where they didn’t want me), went the other

way (where heaven had evidently called ahead because the other place didn’t want me either), found out it was just a dream and, in an ironic twist of fate, found another peanut. The song ended, and for a split-second the gymnasium was completely silent. Then the audience erupted as we took our final bows and first place. At that moment, I knew interpretive dance would play a significant part in my career. I’d say it has, though no performance will ever touch the magic that happened on stage that night.

1 Sung to the somewhat repetitive tune of “Oh My Darling Clementine”

Bow(s)er Hall? Let’s-a-go to the new building!

“It’s so much fun when you work in industry. You learn just how dumb people are.” - Professor Curt Nelson “Engineers are superheroes. No one really knows who we are or what we do. We help people do things they never thought possible, and when we make a mistake we flatten a city.” - Professor Melodie Selby “People live in cities.” - Professor Paul Dybdahl on people who live in cities

Email your faculty verbatim or thank yous to meghann.heinrich@wallawalla.edu to be featured!

Oh...

BOWERS HALL

I read that wrong.