The Commuter: Dec. 2, 2020

T H E

L I N N - B E N T O N

C O M M U N I T Y

VOL. 52 EDITION 9

C O L L E G E

DEC. 2, 2020

Rejoice, Reflect,

Relax

ð&#x;Œ²

Inside this Edition

GRAPHICS: FREEPIK.COM

12 DAYS OF RESILIENCE

SEE PAGES 5-6

THEY ALWAYS WANT LOWER PRICES

SEE PAGE 9

ILLUSTRATION: REBECCA FEWLESS

PHOTO J

SEE PAGES 10-11

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COLUMN

DECEMBER 2, 2020

LBCOMMUTER.COM 

Wellness Wednesday LISA HOOGESTEGER

LBCC is an equal opportunity educator and employer.

Note: Lisa Hoogesteger works in the LBCC Advising Center and teaches health and wellness. The Advising Center offers drop in support for any student with advising and career questions or counseling requests; 541-917-4780. Lisa is assisted by her dog Fenway, a 14 year old Labrador/Wire Haired Griffon whose daily goal is to walk through puddles and annoy the cat.

Web Address: LBCommuter.com Phone: 541-917-4451, 4452 or 4449 Email: commuter@linnbenton.edu Twitter @LBCommuter Facebook LBCC The Commuter Instagram @LBCommuter

Our Staff Adviser Rob Priewe

Editor-in-Chief Katie Littlefield Layout Designer Rebecca Fewless Marketing/Advertising Isaieh Heiken A&E Steven Pryor Joshua Bloedel Photography Editors Hikari Kawai Student Voice Editor Dakota Gange

KATIE LITTLEFIELD

Linn-Benton Community College hosts a yearly food drive during the holidays for the community. It’s a time for people to come together and give back or receive from their neighbors. With everything being just a little different this year, it still managed to be quite successful!

Financial Aid Advisor and coleader of the Thanksgiving Food Drive Program, Michelle Slay and co-leader Jeanine Howell announced on Nov. 25 our donation outcome with much excitement.

LBCC staff and students raised $10,624 in donations which is over $3,000 more than last year’s food drive. This helps 583 to 1,033 people based on household sizes!

Impressive.

The need for a little help during Thanksgiving had gone up this year due to the pandemic, so the food drive team and staff came up with a plan to bring in more donations from staff in particular.

Dean of academic foundations, Leslie Hammond, and Administrative Secretary for Information Services, Lena Spencer organized a friendly competition between LB managers and classified staff to fight for the highest donation number to avoid the losers punishment; Tik Tok dances. This

The moon in the puddles, the soggy brown leaves Gave a damper of winter, and old moldy cheese.

When what to our watering eyes should appear, But a new LB leader, with a dusting of cheer.

Now Nursing and Welding, Now Bio and DG, On Business and Ag, On English and the ATTC. With pain and distemper, through thick and the thin, We’re in this together and that’s how we’ll win.

I sprang to my bike, and pedaled to the park, Delight in five minutes of sunshine and spark.

That inner glow, the fortitude of now.

As Roadrunners in flock; we’ll get through this somehow.

GRAPHICS: FREEPIK.COM

LB Athletics to Host First Beaks Briefing COURTESY OF MARK MAJESKI

In support of our strategic priority to engage with our community, including alumni, parents and fans, LB Athletics will host the first BEAKS BRIEFING on Wednesday, December 2 at 6:00 p.m. You're invited to join us LIVE via Zoom.

You can register and join Here. The

SAFETY

Web Master Marci Sischo

SUGGESTION

Copy Editor Bowen Orcutt

BOX

Contributors Kinsley Stone Karen Canan Josh Green Erika Donner Becky Burger Brenda Autry David Shaughnessy Megan Oliver Tanner Johnson Benson Bui Liana Lahann Marissa Lunn S. Thompson Luka Schaefers

STORY BY

Twas the week before finals, and all through LB, Barely a student was noticed, cuz of pandemic you see.

The teachers were huddled, in kitchens and bedrooms, Playing with Moodle, DegreeWorks and Zoom.

Hold your loved ones near, let the stress pass you by, May you travel in sunshine and breathe deep without sigh.

Happy holidays to all, may your days be bright.

With wishes for ‘21, that includes more delight.

event will also be streamed live on Facebook.

This new ongoing series of live, online events will feature updates from all head coaches, introduction to a few of our outstanding student-athletes and an Alumni Spotlight with one of our former student-athletes. We're excited to bring you these events live, so you can have the opportunity to engage with coaches and guests by submitting questions during the events. Or, just listen in and watch!

Joining this first Briefing's Alumni

Spotlight will be former Beak baseball player Dan Segel, CEO of the Corvallis Knights Baseball Club.

LBCC has a Safety Committee whose goal is to identify and eliminate risks on our campus, and to prevent accidents and illnesses through the involvement of employees, managers, and students in an effort to provide a safe and healthy place to both work and learn. A "Safety Suggestion Box" is available to provide a way for you to communicate your safety concerns, hazards spotted, and suggestions for promoting safety.

Please email your suggestions, comments, concerns to: safetycommittee@linnbenton.edu

SAFETY TIP OF THE WEEK:

Fatigue at work, and at school, can have serious impacts on your performance and everyone’s safety. Be informed about what it looks like, how it could impact you, as well as others, and what you can do to address or avoid it.

Check out this infographic on Fatigue and Work.

How does fatigue impact safety?

6 Ways to Relieve Your Work From Home Fatigue 5 Ways to Avoid Academic Fatigue

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How much more can we take? When do we cease agonizing?

Can we hug or shake hands? Sit on chairs without sanitizing?

I spoke not a word, but went straight to my work, Though I’d forgotten some meetings and felt like a jerk.

Address: The Commuter Forum 222 6500 Pacific Blvd. SW Albany, OR 97321

CAMPUS NEWS

LBCC’s Annual Thanksgiving Food Drive Has Another Successful Year

And then in a twinkling, I heard through the web That classes would be streamed, to antennas on our heads.

“How creative” said one; “That’s fake news” said another.

“Oh Malarkey” read the headline; and “bah humbug” said my brother.

Letters Welcome The Commuter encourages readers to use its “Opinion” pages to express their views on campus, community, regional and national issues. The Commuter attempts to print all submissions received, but reserves the right to edit for grammar, length, libel, privacy concerns and taste. Opinions expressed by letter submitters do not represent the views of the Commuter staff or the College.

Deliver letters to:

DECEMBER 2, 2020

2020 Does Have a Bright Side!

Holidays Interrupted:

STORY BY

The Commuter is the weekly student-run newspaper for LBCC, financed by student fees and advertising. Opinions expressed in The Commuter do not necessarily reflect those of the LBCC administration, faculty and students of LBCC. Editorials, columns, letters, and cartoons reflect the opinions of the authors.

 COMMUTER@LINNBENTON.EDU

PHOTO: COMMUTER ARCHIVE

After finishing up all of 2019's purchases, the team gathers together and celebrates the success of their night. (Pre-pandemic.)

was a great way to encourage involvement and to have a little fun along the way.

Slay and a team of classified staff made it to the end of the donation period with smiles on their faces. They reached the finish line with 2,217 more dollars than Leslie and her team of Administrators/ Deans. They were prized with the loser's toll of re-creating tik tok dances.

The Commuter staff thanks all who organized and contributed to this year's food drive. Happy Holidays!

MikesBikes Title Showdown LBCC Students Invited to National Competition

STORY AND PHOTOS: DAKOTA GANGE

Amidst the pandemic life, the MikesBikes World Championships are still to be had this winter, and several of our very own Linn-Benton Community College students have the honor of being invited to compete. Only the top teams in the nation who participate in Smartsims simulations are invited. From all of us here at LBCC, here’s a congratulatory shout out to the following students:

Laura Campbell, Monica Cooke, Rachel Tweedy, Alexander Clapp, Cydney Diaz, Isaieh Heiken, Colby Matsumoto, Kelsey Stanley, Natalie Olsen, Mary Tuomi, Nathan Kim, Elizabeth Carroll, Katharine Miller, James Kingrey, Parker Lemmer, Aaron Thomas, Paul Fernald, Nikita Martushev, Jesse Mathis and Daniel Carroll.

This competition is put on by Smartsims Business Simulations every year, and they aren’t letting COVID stand in the way of this amazing opportunity for students across the world.

This competition is based on a business simulation, where students create this simulation based on three (figurative) bikes “provided” by MikesBikes. They start off with their choice of one bike to create their business, and then continue to build their business over the weeks. At the end of the final round, the two competitors with the highest shareholder value will be crowned the winner.

“It’s really all about making your business as profitable as possible, and reinvesting the profit you made to make your business even bigger. It’s a monopoly over mountain bikes,” says LB student and MWC contestant Alex Clapp.

Once invited, those that wish to

attend must accept and submit their team of students from the same school, or they can choose to fly solo. However, if multiple teams from the same school score well on the first round, only the team (or singular) with the highest shareholder value will move on to the final round to represent their school.

To be invited to this event, one must be participating in a Smartsims business simulations program that is offered at their college or university, via a business class. In this program, the students do bike business simulations, competing against their fellow students.

The student(s) with the highest shareholder values have the opportunity to be invited to the MikesBikes Championships.

Both the winner and the runner up will be featured on the Smartsims website, and will be featured on the Wall of Champions along with previous title holders. They also will receive a certificate, and an article on their achievement that will be promoted externally, and are often published on university websites. To check out more on this event, follow the link: Alex Clapp

www.smartsims.com/news/mikesbikesworld-champs

Here at The Commuter, I had a chance to interview two participating students, even approaching finals week.

Alex Clapp and Isaieh Heiken will be on the same simulation team, and it’s clear that both have marked their calendars.

Alex Clapp is a 21-year-old local, who is “super excited just to be competing in it!” He is studying Business Administration and plans to transfer to OSU to get his MBA in finance, after he gets his degree at LB. Clapp dreams of being a finance planner or a stock market broker, where he can invest money for people to help them fix their everyday problems, such as paying off their mortgage.

“So many people just have no idea about all the benefits they could be getting, and I want to help them figure out the best way they can improve their life. I really just want them to be financially independent,” says Clapp when asked what inspires him to study business.

Clapp has “always loved numbers, it’s always just seemed to be easy in my head,” and since he was a kid he’s always been “really intrigued with money -- it’s really interesting to see how you can make yourself be in a better financial position just by your basic life choices.”

“I really want to give Mindy Bean (an LB business instructor) praise, cause she was the main reason I did well in that class -- her teaching was amazing,” says Clapp. “Without her, I wouldn’t be in this competition.”

Isaieh Heiken is another one of Linn-Benton’s students to be attending the competition. His talents are demonstrated across the board, as he is one of our own staff members here at The Commuter.

“I would say that LBCC's

Isaieh Heiken

MikesBikes simulation really allows students to put their business knowledge to the test in an environment that has real consequences -- our grade depends on our final ranking. It's an honor to have the opportunity to compete for the school and to demonstrate all that we have learned on a national stage. I wish the best of luck to everyone we compete against,” says Heiken.

“I think one of the most inspiring things about studying business is the competitive nature of the industry. I know that talent and work ethic are rewarded in business more so than most other industries and it's very self-gratifying to achieve and move forward into my career.”

There you have it, the spirit of MikesBikes Championships is building up among some of our own, with passion and drive.

Congratulations to all 20 of our students, and may you bring home the glory!

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CAMPUS NEWS

DECEMBER 2, 2020

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A Meeting of Technologies Hands-on Crafting Classes Successfully Go Online

COLUMN BY KAREN CANAN

As we enter into the ninth month of the worldwide Covid pandemic’s spread into the United States, we can look to other countries for inspiration in how to continue our activities while being as safe as possible.

EartHand Gleaners, in Vancouver, Canada, is one such inspiration.

EartHand teaches hands-on skills such as basketry, weaving and dying. I learned this summer about EartHand through Echoes in Time, a primitive skills camp in Monmouth, Oregon.

Echoes in Time went entirely online this year due to Covid, and Sharon Kallis of EartHand was one of the teachers at the camp. I took part via Facebook, and saw Kallis’ video showing how to process wild plants into basketry materials. Soon, I had rolls of blackberry bark, ready to use, and after watching another tutorial on basketry, I had a basket.

After the camp was over, I got on the email list for EartHand and joined their Fall Fibers Guild class. EartHand has been helping Vancouver’s citizens rediscover the value of plant materials right in their backyards since 2013.

Two public gardens, one called Means of Production (MOP) garden, and another called Trillium, provide plant material such as nettles, dogbane, and

PHOTO COURTESY: EARTHAND GLEANERS SOCIETY

Trillium Garden in Vancouver Canada, which EartHand helps tend and harvest

milkweed for local citizens to craft with.

EartHand participants also help maintain the gardens, which also grow food.

With Covid, EartHand has greatly expanded their online skills teaching offerings, and the classes are much more accessible to anyone, even here in the Willamette Valley. It is a meeting of technologies, where the internet allows us to learn ancient and enduring technologies such as spinning, weaving and dying, but how is this working?

Participants in the online classes who live near the gardens are still able to individually gather nettles, milkweed, and dogbane, all of which can be turned into thread as well as basketry materials. They can go on their own or in very small groups to the gardens, but much of the group activity has gone online.

EartHand Kitchen Dyer’s Guild teacher Czarina Lobo said moving the classes online in the form of guilds has been a lifesaver: “Sharon [Kallis] is phenomenal in her thinking and, yes, she was wise to round up the regulars and skill holders to start up the [online] guilds. It definitely stopped a panic for me right at the beginning [of Covid]... I loved the challenge.

“I loved making my [fall] Kitchen Dyers Guild all about using what we had in the kitchen or in the alleyways, neighbors’ gardens and forests, keeping a low budget, cutting up old sheets for the dye pot, etc… I used some concepts … like offering to clean up your friend’s yard in return for garden waste to use for baskets, or deadheading flowers for the dye pot.”

In Lobo’s experience, the online classes work better than trying to meet in person, given the restrictions of Covid: “To be honest I’ve tried teaching outdoors … with bubbles of people segregated under tents with masks on. It’s been stressful because community-building [with] weaving, natural dying, pigments and inkmaking are all the kind of crafting I like to do in close circles; talking shop and sharing stories. And having to shout instructions through a mask has been awful and honestly really exhausting. I much prefer looking at full, open faces and talking softly with a second camera focusing closely on the hand work that people can see.”

EartHand basketry teacher Jaymie Johnson recalled a pre-Covid garden tour that she led which was attended by folks who had recently immigrated to Vancouver.

“At the top of the M.O.P. [garden] there were fruit trees,” said Johnson, “and this man from Iran was so generous and happy to offer his advice and wisdom.”

Johnson said the man, who had owned an orchard in Iran, returned to the garden a couple more times to help out with the fruit trees. These garden tours, said Johnson, usually ended with a brief skills session, such as making rope from fiber plants harvested from the garden.

Just as rope is made by twisting one strand of fiber away from you and then wrapping the twisted strand towards you over another strand of fiber, locking in the twist, EartHand’s teachers and skills workers persist in bringing people and plants together, even during Covid.

Their modestly priced online crafting guilds allow participants from anywhere in the world to join the crafting circles; the groups are small and attendance is limited.

For more information about EartHand, see the website at earthand.com, the YouTube channel EartHand Gleaners Society and the Facebook page EartHand Gleaners Society.

 COMMUTER@LINNBENTON.EDU

DECEMBER 2, 2020

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We The Students LBCC Students Share Their Stories and Essays

STORY BY DAKOTA GANGE

If you’ve been following The Commuter this term, perhaps you remember a brief narrative by a bright eyed girl titled, “Blessings in Disguise”, in one of our earlier editions. This little article was about how even after my struggle and recovery from addiction, the loss of an infant son, and then being laid off due to the pandemic, I was managing to be the happiest I had ever been.

Now I’d like to reflect on that a little bit. About two weeks after that article was published, I lost my unborn baby, in the middle of my first term back in college -- I was taking 17 credits.

The echoes of the doctor's voice still linger in my mind, saying they couldn’t find a heartbeat. My heart shattered, again. ‘How could this be

happening to me, this was supposed to be my time, I could feel it’, I thought to myself over and over.

My little baby resided for over a month in my belly without a heartbeat, without life, before having a D&C where they put you to sleep, and for lack of a better word, suck it out. This consumed my mind and knocked me down into a three week, emotionally wrecked spiral.

During this time I couldn’t think, let alone open my brain to new information -- i.e. school.

Then my work as a restaurant manager brought me back after a 7 month layoff, and now I was facing intense heartache accompanied by what turned into three weeks of 17 credits worth of late homework, and now 40 hours of work during the final weeks of school. I wanted so badly to give up and give in. I wanted to sulk in my newfound misery

under the weight of the world.

I didn’t give in to my self sabotage, however, I tucked my tail between my legs and I desperately contacted all my professors. With little hope that there was anything to be done other than withdraw from all my classes, I explained to them what had happened.

A little glimmer of light shined back in my life after speaking with all of them (professors). Without hesitation, they granted me whatever time I needed to heal, and promised me the acceptance of all my late assignments, without a single point of any docking. There it was, what I needed to hear all along and didn’t know it -- my college and college professors were in my boat, supporting me through this difficult time. Ahhhh, I felt that first breath of relief.

After lots of hard work physically, mentally, and emotionally, I successfully

made it through the end of this semester with my heavy load of emotional healing, school, and work. I’m grateful that my past self didn’t give in to my little saboteur, who kept whispering, ‘just give in, try again next term’, because this semester I found my calling in photojournalism.

Perhaps I might even end this semester with straight A’s.

So, in lieu of these extremely difficult and harsh times, we here at LinnBenton’s The Commuter, would like to dedicate these stories from the students to those of you who may be struggling right now, or going through a traumatizing situation. May you find the inspiration you need, and know you’re not alone.

Resilience is a powerful tool -- get back up, and don’t ever give up.

12 Days of Resilience LBCC Student Shares How They Overcame a Difficult Time

STORY AND PHOTOS BY DAKOTA GANGE

A WORL D - WI D E PA ND E M I C. W IL DF IRES IN O U R O W N B AC K YARD. U N P RECEDENTED FEAR AND UNCERTA I NTY. FO R TO O M AN Y STU DEN TS , TH E VISIO N O F S U C C ESS FOR THEMSELVES AND FOR TH E I R FA M I L I E S H A S G RO W N DIMMER TH IS Y EAR. THERE IS HOPE. Our community has responded with incredible conviction because the learning that takes place here at LBCC directly affects how we rebuild and rebound in the months ahead.

WANT T O HELP? We invite you to cut through the darkness and shine a ray of hope by giving generously to the LBCC Foundation Annual Fund. Help hard-working students continue on their educational path to make a better life for themselves and their families. Sometimes, just one ray of support can make all the difference.

If you can give, please give generously. If you cannot give, please share this message with friends and family who are in a better place to do so. Together we can bring light and warmth to students and community at a time when it is needed the most.

Give today at www.linnbenton.edu/give or call 541-917-4255.

COLUMN

Foundation

It was 8:00 a.m. August 4, 2016, and though the Arizona sun was blazing down on Tucson, it was a beautiful clear blue skies day. I remember this day well, as it would become a marker for one of the most important moments in my life. This was the day of my ultimate sobriety, the last day I ever used heroin, and the day I met my biological father for the first time.

Before I go on dear reader, I need you to know I’m a good person.

I’m humble, passionate, giving, and full of so much love I cry tears of joy sometimes because I just want to give it all out. I’m a photographer, a writer, an artist, an animal lover, a runner, a hiker, a dancer, a lover, a hopeless romantic.

I’m a student of photojournalism, restaurant manager, dog mom, and (hopefully soon!) a wife. I’ve loved and lost deeply, I’ve hurt and been hurt, and I’ve given my everything to those I love. I am family oriented, and I love the ocean and sunsets. I am so much more than what I felt at the time of this story, but I am so grateful for this rough experience, as the lessons taught are worth more than their weight in gold.

I grew up in a loving household and, aside from my far away aunts, without much exposure to addiction.

I wish I could say that my addiction resulted due to some injury accompanied with an opiate prescription, but alas, I just became addicted. I woke up one day after chasing the dragon, and my body no longer was mine; it belonged to the clock on the wall. I would hear the ticking, like a little count down in

my ear. I would get high, and if I did not repeat this process every 12 hours, my body would be forced to drop down to the ground in agonizing pain. It felt like a fist reaching inside my stomach, clenching my organs like they were one of those little foam stress reliever balls.

I was now 22 years old and it had been almost two years of everyday opiate use for me, and it seemed inescapable. Looking back on it, I realize there were so many options out there for help. However, I felt that if I couldn’t do it alone, I would never truly be sober. I never went to a single NA meeting or rehab facility. Instead, I made the decision to do it on my own, to get clean myself. I knew that going to rehab and meetings ultimately would mean my life would revolve around heroin, even whilst sober, and I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to talk about it,

and continue to talk about it. I wanted to just kick it for good. I wanted to get as close to back to who I was beforehand, whilst somehow taking all the lessons learnt amidst addiction with me. So thus began my trial and error of trying to get clean, while in Tucson. I had a full time job, ‘and I couldn’t just take the weekend off to detox myself ’, I needed to support myself and my dog.

I would get suboxone second hand, and would use this through my very short detox sessions. Suboxone was great because it blocked out the whole withdrawal process. This never lasted though; a week or two later I would find myself getting high again.

I packed up my most important belongings in my black 2002 Nissan Xterra. Today I would leave for Corvallis, Oregon, my hometown. I had moved to Tucson at 19 and even with

the hiccups of addiction, I did well for myself, but I couldn’t stay clean. Clearly I had to leave. Removing myself from the situation and the life I was living was the only way I could truly get away.

I had acquired enough Suboxone to get me through the withdrawals, it was a full proof plan. The goal was to make it to Idaho to see my dad, Washington to see my grandma, and then back down to Oregon to be with my momma. So on this hot summer August morning, I packed up that SUV, and I inhaled the last of my heroine.

Chris, myself, and my adored dog Nahla, headed towards our new life in Oregon. First main stop along the way was Moscow, Idaho, (where I was born 27 years ago). I was traveling here to meet my biological father for the first time, after finding my half sister on Facebook. ‘What was I thinking, I know.’ But it was a four day drive, and I had the Suboxone to get through this somewhat smoothly.

Later that evening we arrived in a town along the way. It was late, around 11 or 12. I was the only licensed driver between the two of us, and I was growing irritable. It was time for a hotel.

It proved to be difficult to get a decent room. I was exhausted, and finally found a hotel that would accept our limited methods of payment. The hotel turned out to be pretty scuzzy. I opened the door to a completely empty room, except for one twin size bed, a lamp, and a small two drawer dresser.

I flipped on the lights, and a couple of cockroaches scurried away into the shadows. We went to bed that night, all three of us squished on that little mattress. I awoke to sunshine streaming through the crack in the curtains of the window, to what felt like little rays of

CONTINUED ON PAGE 6

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DECEMBER 2, 2020

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CONTINUED FROM PAGE 5 hope. I began to feel weak, I was getting ‘sick’. Time to take the Suboxone, after which I stepped outside to take Nahla out. The air was crisp and fresh as our room was on a large gravel lot that overlooked the dusty brown hillside.

The sky was vibrant blue, that glowed in comparison to the brown mountains and the dim, dull city that it met at the horizon line. Standing in the rocky lot, I began to feel worse, but it was time to start getting ready to hit the road again.

About an hour later right before leaving the scuzzy room, I dropped to the ground with that familiar fist that I know all too well. Squeeze, twist, cramp, vomit, and repeat; I couldn’t move off the floor. It appeared that the little miracle pill wasn’t working.

‘Perhaps I took it too late?’ Who knows, so I took more. It didn’t help. I had brought a couple emergency 10 mg.

Oxycodone pills just incase…. They didn’t work either. Extremely hot baths were the only thing that would take any pain away, besides heroine, which I didn’t have, but the pain was so bad that I would’ve used it if it was there.

The bathtub in this scuzzy hotel room was equally as scuzzy, stained brown with age and ware that had to have originated from the 70’s.

‘Am I really going to do this… am I really going to stoop to this?’. I thought of all the similar movie scenes, and began to enter a state where all I could do was watch myself. I cleaned what I could of the bathtub, and filled it with the hottest water the faucet could give.

I soaked for three before we had to go.

Nevada was the next destination, but my mind pondered during my soak. I thought about going back to Tucson, it was only an 8 hour drive back, and I could start over; ‘I must’ve gotten the wrong dosage of Suboxone, and maybe I could go back and get more, and start this trip again’. But I couldn’t do that. I had to keep going, no matter my state.

This wasn’t going to kill me, it was just a cruel trick being played on my body, and in the majority of cases, it was a 72 hour physical withdrawal, and after that it was a mental battle. I absolutely could not drive, so Chris, my unlicensed partner who was going through a lesser painful withdrawal, stepped up.

Whilst driving down the freeways of Nevada towards Idaho, I was in a dazed, painful, in and out of state of consciousness. In between my states of consciousness, I would try to eat, but the fist torturing my stomach wouldn’t let up. I tried gatorade and smoothies, but nothing other than little sips of water would stay down.

Four days into the trip and we arrived in Lewiston, Idaho. I wish I could remember the inbetween, but unfortunately the days have slipped into my subconscious. Only the memories of the physical pain, and the blurred colors of the trip passing by outside my passenger window remain.

I had to buy myself some time.

I couldn’t meet my father like this, so we stayed in Lewiston for an additional two days, in a nicer and much cleaner hotel. I spent those two days trying to eat unsuccessfully, taking hot baths, sleeping when possible, and a refusal to speak words to anyone; talking about anything was painful in a mental way I never even knew existed. Words were painful to speak.

It was six days into the trip, or rather my detox, and I was still very sick.

However, I could walk and drive now, but couldn’t manage to keep anything

Trov BeVan (left), Dakota Gange.

down. The fist in my stomach was still ever prevalent, but seemed to lighten it’s squeeze a bit. My time was up, I had to go to Moscow to meet my biological father and half sister for the first time in my life. ‘Call them, tell them you’ve been sick and think it’s the flu. Maybe they will want to reschedule.’ Their warm hearts and welcoming arms wished me still to come, so I did.

Moscow, which I had visited previously as an adult, is in the lush panhandle of Idaho. The shimmering golden wheat hills to the west, rolled ever so gently with the wind, while the northern mountains were thick and dark in contrast with evergreen trees. The air swirled around my nose, smelling of pine as we approached the country road leading to my fathers house. We arrived in the early evening to a cozy country home, and I was met with excitement from my father, sister, and ‘new step mom.’

The coming week was spent with good conversation about our lives; after all, we did have over 22 years of catching up to do. I played the whole week off like I had the flu, but it wasn’t without suspicion. My fur baby Nahla had a blast as they had another dog and lots of land to run and play on.

Chris had a great time too, playing with the four wheeler and other cool gadgets. But I continued to take many baths, encompassed by a weak, depleted energy, with bursts of socialness inbetween. I still couldn’t keep anything down but water, and at this point it had been 8 days since I had anything other than water and a few sips of gatorade. It was time to have dinner though, and to meet my grandmother for the first time.

We arrived at her old property in the farm hills outside of Moscow, and I laid eyes upon a gentle yet familiar face, my grandmother, who I undeniably looked very much like. I thought she looked like an older version of me, even before it was pointed out by various family members. Grandma made her famous homemade chicken noodle soup, just for me and my upset stomach. The yummy, warm, wholeful food aroma filled the dining room as we sat down to eat. The steam hit my face.

‘It smelled so good.’ I hadn’t eaten in 9 days now, but I ate her soup, slowly, and with pleasure. It was so delicious and warmed my body up.

I tried so hard. I really did, but I just couldn’t keep anything down; the fist wouldn’t let me. So there I was, in my grandmothers house for the first time, in her upstairs bathroom throwing up.

My father Torv and I walked along the property where he grew up, and he showed me all his favorite spots as a child, while I studied him. I studied his face, which I also really looked like.

We both had the same grey-blue eyes and shiny golden blonde hair with copper red highlights, that looks like

the surrounding wheat fields in the sun. His gentle spirit meshed well with mine. We’re so similar.

One of the nights we were having a campfire at his country home, and he took me up in a tree house.

He told me how happy he was to be meeting me, and that “I was filling a sort of void, because he always knew something was missing”. “I knew you were mine when you got out of the car, and I saw my wide shoulders on you” he says. We bonded even further as we watched the below fire pit and family, an experience I will never forget. Before coming down, he mentions that he knows what detox looks like - he’s seen it. He knew, but I continue to blame it on the stomach flu. My half sister Brianna and I really hit it off, too.

Torv took me on four wheeling rides, and took me shooting in a sand pit on his property, in which I learned I was conceived at, after a romantic motorcycle ride into the mountains.

After a week of being with my newly found family, it was time to head to Washington, where we would be staying for a month with my grandma (on my mothers side) before heading to Oregon. I said my goodbyes, filled with lots of love and hugs, and went on my way. It had now been 10 days since I had eaten (and not thrown it all up), and fist was still going; squeeze, twist, cramp, vomit, and repeat.

This was one of the biggest moments of my life, meeting my dad. I had dreamt about finding and meeting my dad my entire earthly existence, they way most little girls dream about weddings. The moment came and it passed, and I blew it. I was in the worst condition in my life, and though I tried so hard, I was not my usual, perky, talkative and energetic self. Of course I was courteous, polite, kind, and laughed and did what I could, but ultimately I was weak, and wore it like an old, faded, potato sack dress for everyone to see.

Arriving at my grandmas was like arriving at heaven. My sweet, kind and loving angelic grandma took care of me with no judgement, knowing what was going on. Her gorgeous log cabin in the mountains of Washing was my rehab. After 12 days of nothing but water and gatorade, the clenching fist finally stopped, and I regained my strength with lots of fruit, sourdough bread, and therapeutic trips to the river.

My dad, Torv, called me while

at my grandmas, and wanted me to come back while I was still only a short five hours away in Washington. ‘I couldn’t believe it.’ He actually wanted to see me again, and this time I could hopefully prove myself a better human.

So Chris, Nahla and I returned to the cozy country home for three days, and this time I was able to shine a little brighter, making breakfast and dinner for them, and being my usual perky self. And they noticed too; my father commented that I was like a whole different person. I may never get that moment of meeting him for the first time back, but hopefully he’ll remember me from the second trip.

I haven't seen Torv since, and we never talk, but the lessons learned from being in this gut wrenching situation are endless. To have had to experience one of the most important things in my life (meeting my dad), while at my absolute worst, is a unique lesson in and of itself. There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t use these tools.

The tools; the knowledge of knowing I made it through this, with some grace left. I can do anything I set my mind to. Simple, but this experience dragged me face first through gravel.

Oftentimes when I’m put through tough situations, I come out the other side not wanting to change a thing. But sometimes I think, if I could, I would have that moment of meeting my dad for the first time back, eliminating my sickness beforehand.

However life doesn’t work like that, and I know that maybe it’s important that it happened that way. Maybe the shame I feel from the lack of control I exercised is imperative, and is a lesson itself.

Would I have stayed clean so easily afterwards if I didn’t realize how bad I biffed it? My detox is not a common case. To detox without medications, rehab, and without any NA meetings is really quite rare. Only about 15% percent of heroin addicts manage to stay clean, and that’s most often with help. What I did was powerful. Some days I look back and am amazed at my resilience. My knowledge, compassion, and understanding for other humans grew and continues to grow everyday through this experience. I learned that I can bounce back, and quite well.

Resilience is the prize I gained from my 12 days of misery, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Brianna BeVan (left), Dakota Gange, Torv BeVan.

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Family Traditions

LBCC Student Writes About Their Unique Traditions STORY BY MARISSA LUNN

Most families have their own family traditions. Some unique to themselves, and some to their cultures.

Traditions are rituals families engage in over and over. They lend a certain spirit that nurtures the family connection, giving us a sense of belonging and helping us celebrate generations of family.

Traditions are passed down through the generations as something to look forward to every year. The holiday season is where the most family traditions are made.

In the article, “Sweet Sour and Resentful,” by Firoozeh Dumas, she writes about the weekly dinners her family hosted. They didn’t let living in America, keep them from their Iranian culture.

Nonetheless, I was raised with Italian culture. I may have been born and raised in America, but my cultures are a part of me. They define me, they mode me, and I pass them down to my own kin.

Growing up, I had nothing.

We never celebrated anything except birthdays. Life was hard and miserable.

I don’t think I even knew what a family tradition was until a little bit later. My family was broken. It was my brother and I against the world. Our birth parents

PHOTO COURTESY: FREEPIK.COM

were never around, nor did they pay us any attention. We never had a home.

If we did, we moved a lot because we couldn’t afford it.

Family traditions have become very important throughout my young life, and my adult life. Being put in the

foster system along with my brother saved our lives. We got adopted and found our forever home. My adopted family took us in wholeheartedly and without question.

They gave us a family, and traditions to go with it. They didn’t hold back, and we eagerly accepted everything they had to offer. We celebrated so many holidays and birthdays. It was definitely a dream come true.

My fondest memory, as far as family traditions go, is the one celebrated on Christmas Eve. It is called Festa dei Sette Pesci, or The Feast of the Seven Fishes. It is an Italian tradition and also goes with Roman Catholicism.

My mom was born in Italy and she brought all her traditions with her when she moved to America. This tradition is passed down to all the women of the family, biological or not.

Why is it called the Feast of the Seven Fishes? Well, in Roman Catholicism, the number seven is mentioned many times in the Bible. It also comes to play with the seven sacraments and the seven days it took God to create the world. The seventh day being the day God rested. The reason there are seven fish is because of the Catholic tradition of abstaining from eating meat during important times of the year.

Everyone’s Invited

My mom has been the hostess of this feast longer than I have been in the picture. No one else will do it because no one can do it like she can. She doesn’t have a recipe; she cooks straight from memory.

A week before Christmas Eve she makes a menu, and we list the seven fish she will use. Based on my memory, the seven fish are salmon, tilapia, cod, trout, tuna, red snapper, and Calamari. She makes other things like pasta and uses veggies, but the fish is the most important.

I look forward to this holiday tradition more than any other. My mom is now eighty-two years old and I know this tradition will soon be done by her eldest daughter. I was raised as an Italian and as a Catholic. Those two things combined made me love my culture. As an adult with kids of my own, I fully understand the importance of not only traditions but family. I will pass all that I know down to my own children so that they too, can grow up with love and culture for themselves. Every tradition should be cherished and appreciated.

No tradition is more important than the other. As long as we have different traditions and cultures in the world, we have something to call our own. Family is not always blood. So we are capable of making our own families and memories.

LBCC Student Writes About Sharing Their Traditions With Friends

STORY BY LIANA LAHANN

My mom considered it important for me to participate in Jewish culture.

She would pull me out of preschool on Jewish holidays so that we could celebrate them with her side of the family. When I returned, my peers would ask where I’d been. Whether it was Passover, Rosh Hashana, Yom Kippur, or any other Jewish holiday, they rarely knew what it was about. I would explain the holiday as best as a three-year-old could, which mostly included the fun three-year-old activities associated with the holiday.

After I told them about it, a lot of my friends would ask their parents if they could celebrate the holiday, too. This led to my mom getting asked a lot of

questions from interested parents, so she decided to host a Hanukkah party to teach my friends and non-Jewish relatives on my dad’s side about Hanukkah.

Hanukkah seemed like the best choice because even though it’s a minor holiday in Jewish tradition, it’s the most famous Jewish holiday in western society due to its proximity and similarity to Christmas. So starting in 2005, my mom would invite friends, relatives, and coworkers to our house to celebrate the 8th and final night of Hanukkah.

If you wanted to celebrate and eat, you were invited. It didn’t matter if it was an acquaintance my mom met a week ago or a relative I had known my whole life; they were invited.

We reserved the entirety of the day before the event for prep work,

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PHOTO COURTESY: TIMOLINA FROM FREEPIK.COM

Latkes resting on a plate of greens, served with sour cream.

most of which was dedicated to cleaning.

I would be put in charge of organizing objects around the house while my mom would vacuum, dust, and do other cleaning related tasks. We would go shopping for supplies for the latkes, kugel, chocolate graham squares, smacks, and anything else we would be making for the party. The night before, we would bake the chocolate graham squares and the smacks, and order the Subway platter.

On the day of, my mom would start making latkes first thing in the morning. Shredding the potatoes took at least an hour because of the high volume of latkes that were needed for the party.

Each latke would take 15 minutes to cook, and only three could fit in the pan at one time. Therefore, frying all of the latkes needed for the event would take at least 8 hours. While frying the latkes, my mom would prepare everyone’s favorite, the kugel. Kugel is a dish of egg noodles covered in sugar and butter with a crust of corn flakes on top. This is the dish that would run out first at every party without fail, and is still to this day what my mom is asked to bring to any other dinners.

A few of my friends would arrive early so we could decorate sugar cookies while my mom continued frying the latkes. As the rest of the guests arrived, there would be lots of conversation about what interesting food was on the table as they filled their plates. My mom would be hosting, frying, and eating all at the same time. During this time, my friends, cousins, and I would escape upstairs to eat the desserts from the buffet table and play Hanukkah themedd arts while the adults were doing adult things. After dinner, my mom would break out the dreidels. The adults would play for about 45 minutes until they got bored, but the kids would go on for hours, betting our chocolate coins until they were all in one person’s pile, usually ending with me obliterating the weak and having enough coins to start a small economy. Lastly, we would light all eight candles on the menorah as my mom would sing the traditional blessings. In closing, my mom would always say, “There are nine words that sum up every Jewish holiday: They tried to kill us, we won, let’s eat.”

We haven’t been able to hold this event in the last couple of years, but I look forward to the next time we are able to celebrate Hanukkah with our friends and family. Since I’ve grown up, I’ve been hosting the party alongside my mom. Even though I can play dreidel at the adult table now, I usually still sit with the kids, so I can help my little sister spin.

Our Hanukkah parties will always be some of my favorite childhood memories, and I hope they will one day be some of her favorite memories as well.

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Vietnamese New Year LBCC Student Writes About Celebrating Time Spent with Family

STORY BY BENSON BUI

Vietnamese New Year is also known as “Tet,� a holiday in Vietnam where people celebrate the New Year.

Vietnamese New Year is structured around the Lunar calendar. Furthermore, the Lunar calendar indicates a new year as the Earth makes a full rotation around the sun and the moon making a full rotation around Earth. Unlike the American New Year, Vietnamese New Year can last up to 15 days. This is a time where my family comes together, to spend time and eat good traditional food that we can only enjoy once a year.

Vietnamese New Year is a significant part of Vietnamese culture.

To begin, to prepare for the new year, cleanliness is a priority in my household to prepare for upcoming events. We decorate our home with blossom flowers, lanterns, signs, and citrus fruits. The color red symbolizes joy and good luck for the next year and is a common theme seen throughout this special day. In the article “Lunar New Year 2020: What are the traditions, and

which asian cultures celebrate it?� Kristin Lam talks about the significance of Lunar New Year, and how people celebrate it.

According to Lam, “Many families clean their house to welcome guests. It is also common to see families decorate their house with red lanterns, banners, signs, and peach blossoms� (Lam, 2020). Lam brings up a point that is a commonly known tradition that is similar to my family and others.

After we prepare and decorate our house, we celebrate many traditions passed on from our ancestors. Personally, one of my favorite traditions is when we greet our elders and wish them a healthy new year. In return, we receive small envelopes that contain gifts. Usually, these small red envelopes are packed neatly with money that symbolizes wealth and luck in Vietnamese culture.

Later in the day, after we go around greeting our elders, everyone gathers at someone’s house to spend time with each other and eat. Similar to Firoozeh Dumas and her family in the essay “Sweet, Sour, and Resentful,� “There were so many guests in her house that everyone had to squeeze in.

PHOTO COURTESY: VIVIAN DNGUYEN

Benh tet is a cake that is made from glutinous rice. It can be both savoury and sweet, and normally contain a mungbean, or mung bean and pork filling.

She eventually had to tell her neighbor why there were so many people every weekend� ( Dumas, 187). Growing up every single year this would be a common occurrence, everyone gathered around in a small house with little space to sit. Since we are all together in the same place, we are able to enjoy food we usually don’t eat on a daily basis.

Lastly, after all, the decorating and

celebrating, we all come together to enjoy some traditional Vietnamese food. These special dishes are rice cakes called banh chung, sticky rice, moon cakes, banh tet and other food. As discussed before, these are foods I usually get to only enjoy one time a year. According to a Vietnamese Professor at UCLA, “For Vietnamese families, rice cakes called Banh Chung, and Banh da symbolize the material and the spiritual� (Lam, 2020). Banh Chung means a lot to my family because every year, my grandma would spend hours making them so that we can enjoy it for the new year. All food aside, it was important to recognize the meaning of banh chung and its standing. Banh chung is a way to express our gratitude to our ancestors and homeland.

Overall, Vietnamese New Year is a time where people get to come together and celebrate. It is also the time to honor Vietnamese New Years tradition, decorate, and eat good traditional food.

Last, it is a tradition my family has celebrated for many generations and will continue to memorialize to honor the tradition and culture.

The Grouper Protocol LBCC Student Writes About Establishing Family Tradition

STORY BY S. THOMPSON

My father’s employer relocated our family biannually throughout my childhood. Consequently, my siblings and I struggled to form a cultural identity of our own, lacking a consistent framework upon which to build one.

Always anticipating another change of landscape and loss of friends, we required a persistent homeland to be able to establish family traditions, so my parents devised a way to provide both.

We began spending two weeks of summer vacation on Sanibel Island off Florida’s southwest coast. Frayed were the nerves of my parents each year, after driving three children and a dog across the country from a home pro tempore to our summer sanctuary. Relief would come upon sighting “the causeway�, a set of island-hopping bridges heralding an imminent end to days of driving.

Peregrination complete, we disembarked and settled on the isle. Individual’s daytime activities varied, but come evening, we gathered for an outing to a restaurant. We relished this departure from the usual routine of meatloaf Monday and tuna casserole Tuesday.

We found places enjoyed by all, but as years passed, all but one shuttered.

Decades later, my father’s long service to the company concluded, my parents retired to the area. Now, those who can, align their holiday schedules and return to southwest Florida and enact our family ritual, a pilgrimage to Gramma Dot’s.

When our vacation’s end approaches, we

gather to my parents; mainland home to set off together, again crossing the causeway to visit the surviving haunt of our erstwhile home.

Always popular, the wait to be seated is long. We while away the time, wandering the docks of the surrounding marina, inspecting the grandiose boats to discover their ports of origin and amusing names. My nieces and nephews exchange tales of recent years spent in Alabama and Oklahoma for my children’s stories from their homes in Maryland and Washington. Having taken after their grandparents, another generation is vagabond.

Our wait being over, we enter Gramma Dot’s, a space devoid of the pretensions of the sloops and yachts outside. Languidly turning fans overhead augment the sea breeze flowing in through lattice walls. While we gather a few of the dozen small tables, my mother dictates seat assignments, enjoying the reprise of a matronly role. Prioritizing her happiness over our own wishes, we comply and take the places assigned us.

The callow in our party gawp at the aged tarpon, sailfish, and shark mounted upon the wall, likely the same fish I marveled upon when young. The experienced spend scant time glancing through a menu of all manner of freshcaught fare, before announcing they’ll have a grouper sandwich. Broiled, grilled, blacked, and fried, selections are made. I, the apostate of my southern clan, choose the mesquite variant, relishing the chance to revisit a flavor rarely available in the north. We assert our individuality while

PHOTO COURTESY: ERIC SALARD

Sanibel Island from above.

also seeking a unifying structure.

While awaiting the grouper’s arrival, we partake in cups of creamy conch chowder. After appearing, our grouper sandwiches are quickly consumed, followed by shared slices of key lime pie. Having supped, we do not linger, but vacate our tables so others can take our place and perform their own family rituals, for we have arrived at an unstated understanding: The sandwich is just a fish sandwich. Despite being the ostensible reason for the journey, not for fish have we come.

Knowing we must soon disband and return to our distant homes, but uneager to yet part ways, we travel to the park at the nearby tip of the isle.

Beneath the shadow of the centuryold lighthouse, we listen as my mother recounts her relocation to Florida from New Jersey, the land of her childhood.

She speaks of meeting my father and how, before their children were born, my father brought her to the island by ferry, afore the causeway's creation. My father then breaks his customary silence to tell tales of how his own father left Georgia, moved to Florida, wed his mother, and in time brought him and his siblings by ferry to the same island where we still gather.

The sun approaching the horizon, we walk to the susurrating shore and gather seashells, mementos that will adorn our homes to remind us, until next we meet, of time spent together.

Familial bonds renewed, our ceremony is complete. We shuffle back to our cars, knowing our return across the causeway means we will soon part ways, and as we pass through the gloaming, we hunger already for our next grouper sandwich.

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They Always Want Lower Prices LBCC Student Shares Firsthand Experiences Working on a Tree Lot

STORY BY LUKA SCHAEFERS

There’s a lot more that goes into selling Christmas trees than you might think. It takes enthusiasm, for one. You have to go out there and beam radiantly, because they don’t just expect service, they expect service from a Boy Scout, and Boy Scouts are not expected to have emotions beyond incandescent joy.

They walk out of their car, onto that fractured concrete, and lose any sense of time or urgency. Then they walk up to the trees and start browsing on their own despite the fact that unless they’ve worked here or they’re a forester, they’ll be hopelessly lost in trying to find a tree that matches their arbitrary specifications. They’ll say they want a ten foot tall tree, but by then they’ve lost their sense of space and they’ll happily leave with an eight footer. Some of them want their tree skinny but filled out.

Some want their tree fat but sparse. Some want a tree that smells nice but doesn’t shed too many needles. Did I mention? It has to bring the room together, too.

Maybe they want a six foot tall noble fir, the most popular variety of tree by far, but it’s three days until Christmas, and you know they won’t find their six foot tall noble fir because you personally sold the last one. Despite your perfectly polite suggestion that it’s unlikely they’ll find what they need, they will insist upon looking. Then, or rather, if, they finally find the impossible tree they wanted or they settle for something actually feasible, they’ll note the price and be taken aback.

Six dollars per foot of tree is somehow outlandish to them despite our prices staying the same for the past several years, and their claim that they’ve been coming here for the past several years. No matter what kind of tree they want, they always want lower prices.

Sometimes customers will get impatient with you. It’s clear why. They’re in a work uniform and their thoughts, feelings, and desires exist entirely within the context of their business, to which they must return with a Christmas tree as soon as possible. Had they taken the time to observe the most immediate of their surroundings though, they might have noticed I’m in uniform too. My uniform is several layers of winter coats, gloves soaked all the way through, more pine needles than I can count in my hair, a rip in the crotch of my previously nice snow pants, and that radiant smile. That smile, so obviously forced, that if they had thought for a moment, they might realize that my mind is entirely on my business too and they’re not making it any easier.

Maybe they aren’t getting impatient, instead, they might have all the time in the world. It makes me wonder what exactly is so entrancing about pine needles that hypnotizes customers so easily. They look into the dovetailing rows of dull green needles and somehow nothing else matters. Not the scout attending them, not the oncoming rain, not the surplus of other customers waiting to be helped. Nothing.

I remember a tree haul being a

PHOTO: HIKARI KAWAI

Luka Schaefers can be found helping customers at a Christmas tree lot filled with equal parts of people in a hurry and people enjoying the holiday cheer.

difficult thing for me, having to wake up early to be at a tree farm and load trees onto trucks, the drizzle that heralds a downpour, the shouting over distant chainsaws, the mud so deep it might swallow me whole. Mud is a constant of tree hauls, but finding strength you didn’t know you had is a constant too.

Picking a buddy to work with so you can successfully move a tree, then the test of strength in carrying it end to end back to where an older boy would wrestle it onto a flatbed trailer for you. The encroaching numbness as you get colder on whatever unfamiliar hillside you’re working on, the exhaustion as you watch an adult saw down yet another tree further from where you’re carrying them than the last, those feelings don’t change as you get older.

When you get older, you just come to know a little more grit. That little bit of grit makes a world of difference though.

A tree haul is a challenge if you’re an older scout. It’s storming the beaches of Normandy if you’re ten.

Whenever a customer insists upon finding their tree on their own, I’m put into an odd position. It’s mandatory that I accompany them throughout purchasing a tree, but following them in spite of their request would be rude. It’s not impossible to satisfy both conditions though; you just need to be good at faking busyness while simultaneously stalking customers. Perhaps I have the makings of a spy, eavesdropping on judgements thrust upon the trees. I only eavesdrop until I hear some stray comment that tells me they found the tree they like. It must seem awfully convenient, when their would-be attendant turns the right corner just as they find a tree.

There’s a certain amount of apprehension in seeing a little old lady pull into the parking lot behind the armory, it’s always a coin toss with them.

On the one hand, they might just need branches from the pile of trimmings. The discarded cuttings of sold trees, which they’ll collect without any help. There isn’t a register transaction and in a moment I’ll be back inside the run-down trailer. On

the other hand, they’ve grandchildren to impress and the funds of a retiree with which to acquire a behemoth of a tree requiring a herculean feat of strength to strap onto their tiny sedan. Sometimes I’ll see a stronger co-worker come to the tree shaker with a silver haired lady and a tree a story or so tall. They don’t really need to say anything, the shadow the tree casts speaks for itself and I get to helping them mount it on the shaker to remove all the debris and dead bits.

The tree lot always feels cold and gray, even when it’s sunny. Sometimes that feeling is obvious in an overcast rainy sky, sometimes, it lurks in the morning frost on the trees, in the icy puddles on the pavement, and always in the ironic Hawaiian vignette on the license plate of the trailer. Derelict and filthy, opening the door and stepping in is enough to make that old trailer rock up and down.

When they don’t have a customer to serve, most of the scouts keep huddled around the space heater in the corner.

It’s no coincidence that it's the same corner where we keep the hot cocoa, too.

There, around that space heater, forms an unspoken camaraderie, if not also a little dread of going out again. You can see the tension cross a scout’s face while they watch the driveway onto the lot, waiting for another customer to come. They like the inside of that decrepit trailer a hell of a lot more than the outside. Scouts all agree, pizza tastes better in there too.

You’d be surprised by how fast you get attached to a cramped old trailer, when you work in the cold.

It used to be that an older fellow would come down to the lot in the middle of business hours. He’d bring a leaf blower, and everyone in a 50 foot radius would know it. As I had heard, he’d been coming to the lot and doing this for longer than I’d been alive. It was surprising to learn, since we were still in business after he’d forced everyone to yell over the sheer noise for so long. It wasn’t until I overheard my mother give him a stern talking-to, the kind of talking-to only a mother can give, that he’d start

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coming before business hours instead of during. A lot of kids at the lot needed some mothering, and often if there was a woman on shift, it’d be their job to do that. I don’t envy that position and it’s more than any of them signed up for, but often it would be the only way some of the scouts would behave on the lot.

After hearing my mother speak to the gentleman with the leaf blower like that, I wonder how many other folks still need a little mothering.

Every now and again, a special kind of customer will arrive. They start browsing trees on their own without any help, they’re cocksure looking for what they want and refusing any offer to accompany them while they search.

To no scout’s surprise, they’ll fail to find it, but then, they’ll utter words I dread more than any other. “Where’s the blue spruce? You had them last year.�. In fact, we’ve never stocked blue spruce. Perhaps even, I’ve never seen a blue spruce before.

I would not know they exist, were it not for the faulty insistence that we’ve sold them. Explaining that to a customer hellbent on a blue spruce is pointless though, because they know what they purchased, and they insist I do not. They just can’t afford to be wrong in the face of objective fact. Despite the pettiness of the whole affair, they must be correct. Though on some level, it seems like they understand they’re fighting a losing battle, when they concede we haven’t stocked them this year. They are right about that at least, we didn’t stock them this year, but we haven’t stocked them any year prior either. Then, they almost always settle for buying a Nordmann instead. Nordmanns are beautiful trees, colored in an iconic bluegreen. It makes me wonder if they’ve ever purchased a blue spruce, or if they’ve only ever known the Nordmann by another name.

Once, I had a perfectly inconspicuous elderly couple come to the lot. The lady did most of the talking and her partner seemed to be a man of few words. She did all the work finding the tree, too. Not a fussy lady, she found her perfect tree, a five or six foot tall Nordmann, in no time at all. It was when I started sawing into the trunk to give it a fresh cut that the gentleman first spoke to me. I wasn’t certain I’d heard what he said at first, so when I stood up and took to listening more intently, I was surprised to find there wasn’t much he said that could be heard correctly. He spoke incoherently about trees, Christmas, and Boy Scouts. Disconnected thought after slurred word, and as he went on, he took to weeping. I hadn’t the foggiest idea of what to do, so I nodded like I understood and, when he started crying, I shifted my expression like I knew what had upset him. I would come to know, as my mother had learned from the gentleman's wife, he had dementia, he was a boy scout himself once, and Christmas was very important to him. He did not need me to hurry, he liked the tree he found, and he did not want a lower price. I think he got everything he needed by taking his time at the Boy Scout Christmas tree lot.

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DECEMBER 2, 2020

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PHOTO: ABBY JOHNSON

This tent was hidden away behind some trees. Right on the edge of the water, this is the shelter of homeless people.

Homelessness is a huge issue in most of Oregon, but Jefferson has a rate of 1.4% homeless people. Although this is a very sad and upsetting scene, it's reality for many people in Jefferson and in Oregon.

PHOTO: MARCUS ANDREWS

PHOTO: DAKOTA GANGE

Professional dancer Samantha Christofferson (after an outfit change), 24, and dance partner Skyler Rydes, 24 both of Eugene practice a few steps of a routine they have worked on since quarantine began at Alton Baker Park in Eugene on November 17.

Sarah Goode has been a horse mom to her best friend, quarter horse Zip, for over 12 years now. Sarah keeps Zip boarded up at a lovely boarding pasture out by Knox Butte, where she drives out every night from her home in south Albany to spend some time with him. Zip loves the holiday season, as peppermints are one of his most favorite treats. Albany, November 19.

PHOTO: MEGAN FREITAS

A view of the street from my parents’ house. There aren’t many houses or large buildings, as mainly what can be seen are just large empty fields and property used for animals and fertilizing. Taken midafternoon during heavy rain.

PHOTO: NATALIE PELC

Ray Kopczynski is a volunteer at the carousel and has been over the past year. Since COVID-19 has broken out, they have lost about half of their volunteers and are strongly encouraging new people to come in and assist. This facility runs on 99% of volunteers' hard work and dedication to carve, paint, and work at the museum stations.

PHOTO: JOSHUA BLOEDEL

As I was taking photos, I noticed the Grinch stealing a bike. So I decided to visit him and asked if I may take a photo. He said it was fine as long as I didn't disturb his work.

PHOTO: NATALIE PELC

Salem's Riverfront Carousel up and running on November 20.

Located along Salem's waterfront, this indoor attraction is a hit year round. Despite Oregon's two week "shut down" they are open and ready for riders of all ages.

With explicit routes laid out for the public to follow, the Carousel employee's maintain the utmost sanitation and social distancing standards following the CDC's guidelines.

PHOTO: JOSHUA BLOEDEL

As I was heading to Ralston Park.There were three stray cats just lying near our house.

(One happened to run away.)

PHOTO: JOSHUA BLOEDEL

Stained glass image of Jesus in St. John's Lutheran Church in Lebanon.

PHOTO: DAKOTA GANGE PHOTO: NATALIE PELC

PHOTO: ABBY JOHNSON

This sign sits in front of the Thriftway store right next to the river in Jefferson. Life jackets hang off of the sign, allowing families and groups to have a life jacket to keep safe while playing in the river.

Operations Director for Salem's Riverfront Carousel, Bryan Eldridge (43) says, "I am looking forward to the turnout of the annual Santa meet and greet." This special event spans from November 27 to December 24. As seen in the picture above, this year looks a bit different than years prior.

PHOTO: DAVID SHAUGHNESSY

Carson (left, 20 years old) and Taylor (right, 17 years old) pause as they take turns with friends trying out tricks or routines at the Lebanon Skate Park at 300 Harrison St, Lebanon, on November 22, near the back side of the police station. The organization to build the park was started in 2008. It's a fun place for those who like the sport.

Sarah and Zip both enjoy entering competitions. Currently, they are working on 'western style'. This is a familiar style for Zip, but not so much Sarah. "It's really cute -- Zip knows what to do more than I do. She gets really excited about barrel racing!", says Goode.

PHOTO: DAVID SHAUGHNESSY

Carson balances the physical forces, learned through practice, to appear to defy gravity, He and Taylor boarded some when younger but just recently decided to get back into the sport and go to the park frequently.

S T U DENT LEADER

12

A&E

DECEMBER 2, 2020

LBCOMMUTER.COM 

Spectacular Second Go-Round

STORY BY

STEVEN PRYOR

@STEVENPRR2PRYOR

On October 30 of 2020, the second season of the hit Disney Plus series “The Mandalorian” began streaming on Disney Plus. Though there was considerable hype after the widespread acclaim and success of the first season in 2019; the show has continued to prove its worth as a fantastic TV show on its own merit and one of the best “Star Wars” spinoffs to date.

Picking up where the events of the first season left off, the titular Mandalorian (Pedro Pascal) has continued to search for the homeworld of a mysterious alien that he’s forged an unlikely bond with. At the same time, “Mando” also clashes with all manner of enemies; including Moff Gideon (Giancarlo Esposito) who want the alien “child” for their own ends. All of this further expand on mysterious surrounding not just the characters in this spinoff; but ones that run deep to the entire core myths of the “Star Wars”

“STAR WARS’ THE MANDALORIAN" (SEASON 2) Amy Sedaris, Katie Sackhoff, Gina Carano, Rosario Dawson and Giancarlo Esposito CREATOR: Jon Favreau (Based on characters created

by George Lucas) RATED: TV-14 MY RATING: ★★★★★ AVAILABLE ON DISNEY PLUS PHOTO COURTESY : IMDB.COM series is rife with callbacks not just to the original trilogy, but to newer stories such as “The Clone Wars” animated series (including appearances that shall not be spoiled here). Ludwig Goransson has also composed a fantastic musical score to the series, and the show has built upon the foundations laid in the first season to make an even more impressive second outing.

With more content on the way, the second season of “The Mandalorian” marks a spectacular second go-round and one of the best entries in the “Star Wars” saga to date. As Disney has more spinoffs planned for streaming, it’s highly recommended. If you’re looking for the ideal escape in these uncertain times, “this is the way.”

Hijinks and Holiday Cheer

SHIP S T U DENT LEADER

COUNCIL

DECEMBER 2, 2020

A&E

ARE YOU STRUGGLING The Roadrunner Resource Center helps navigate or guide students over barriers that come up during the term that might prevent them from staying in college.

Some resources we can get you connected to might be: • Connecting to resources for childcare • Helping purchase textbooks or other school related costs • Assistance with transportation • Help connecting to resources

that can assist with utility bills, internet and phone costs • Connecting to food resources within the community • Referrals to healthcare related assistance • Help with connecting to housing resources within the community • Access to emergency funds that could help assist over a barrier • Assistance accessing scholarships on campus as well as other forms We are here to assist you-please reach out with any questions you might have- we are here to help you be successful! Just send an email to resources@linnbenton.edu to connect with a Resource Navigator. Or, visit our campus Single Stop Resource Tool to complete a quick profile where we can then match you with many community resources and LBCC emergency funds that could help.

CLUB SPOTLIGHT

Global Connections Club:

The Global Connections Club is just that....a way to "globally connect and learn." Everyone is welcome. Our international students hold virtual weekly "Hangouts" each term starting weeks 3-9, every Thursday from 2 PM to 3PM. This is a relaxed opportunity to meet new friends and learn about culture. Watch for posts on LBLive and Instagram handles “@lbccglobal” and our Facebook handle “LBCC International Students” To make your "Global Connection," log on to zoom. Enter the meeting: 824 248 9167 and password: 123

GRAPHICS: FREEPIK.COM

DIRECTOR: Ken Cunningham WRITER: David Shayne

STARRING: Helen Sadler, Omar Miller, Jake Green, and Kelly Marrie Tran.

RATED: E MY RATING: ★★★★☆ PHOTO COURTESY : WOOKIEEPEDIA the Christmas party ready” plot. A lot’s going on here: For starters, Finn the former Stormtrooper is being tutored in the ways of the Jedi by Rey, and things aren’t going well. For him. For the casual audience, quite well, as the scene is the first of many comedic callbacks to past Star Wars scenes; in this case, Luke Skywalker’s training on the Millenium Falcon in the first Star Wars movie.

Finn has a much harder time of it than he did, and Rey comes to believe the problem is her own lack of experience.

Following a lead from the ancient Jedi texts, she ditches the party and flies off to seek an ancient artifact that may help her. Poe Dameron, the dashing pilot in charge of organizing the party, proves to be less than stoic off the battlefield as he scrambles to finish preparations without her. Meanwhile, Rey finds a powerful crystal that lets her travel through time.

Things get downright bizarre from there.

To start, there is not a single moment of this special that should be taken even remotely seriously. It is, all told, a fun, lighthearted comedic romp through the Star Wars universe. The

time travel element complements that well; in a more serious story some very severe implications may arise from the haphazard way Rey galivants throughout the eras. But here, it presents an opportunity to have fun visiting various moments throughout the Star Wars Saga and to bring various characters together.

Which, unfortunately, the unspoken law of spoilers keeps me from talking about; what makes some of these moments great is how spontaneous, random, and out-ofnowhere they can be. In fact, that’s really where the core of the special’s whole comedic appeal lies. The problem with this plotline, though, is that it doesn’t really have anything to do with Life Day; not even in a sense like A Christmas Carol or It’s a Wonderful Life. Life Day is only made relevant towards the end, when the main lesson of Rey’s journey is made clear to her. Life Day is very much the realm of the other plotline with Finn, Rose, and Poe. It has everything you’d expect: They can’t get the food to turn out right, the decorations are falling apart, Chewies family from the original special show up before the party’s ready… Finn is the one

to really pull things together here; the man may not be much of a Jedi but he really puts the “support” in “supporting cast.” The issue with their plotline is that it IS kind of by the numbers, and at the end of the day not a lot happens. The main appeal, though, is seeing all the disparate personalities of these bouncing off of each other to pull the holiday party off. And some somewhat more contemporary cameos and surprisingly deep-cut references.

All told, the final verdict for this special would be that it’s entertaining, but kind of forgettable. There’s a lot of nice comedic moments, and a few heartfelt ones, but overall it’s the kind of thing you wouldn’t remember too much of after seeing it.But it still may be worth just one watch, if only for the novelty of it, especially if you like the cast of the Sequel Trilogy. If you do, and have children with you, you wouldn’t have a bad time by any means.

There are definitely worse things related to Star Wars you could be watching this time of year

13

STUDENT LEADERSHIP UPDATE

“THE LEGO STAR WARS HOLIDAY SPECIAL”

REVIEW BY BOWEN ORCUTT Disclaimer: This is a review for the Lego Star Wars Holiday Special released in 2020. It is almost entirely unrelated to the Star Wars Holiday Special released in 1978. If while looking this up later you should end up watching that one by mistake, the Commuter is not liable for any loss of sanity or will to live.

To explain this reaction to something many people have likely never heard of, allow me to share a little anecdote: About a year ago now, I was sitting with my Dad and watching the Muppet Christams Carol on Disney Plus. As the credits started to roll, I looked over to him and half-jokingly said I wished the Star Wars Holiday Special was on there.

He then got a thousand-yard stare and flatly said, “You aren’t missing much.”

Now, I’d heard of the special, and heard nothing good, but surely it couldn’t have been THAT bad. So, I took to the internet... aaaad didn’t get past the first fifteen minutes.

The Lego Star Wars Holiday Special is exactly what the name implies; in all their wisdom, Lucasfilm has worked up the courage to make another crack at a Star Wars-themed special in time for the season. And it seems to have more or less paid off. Much like in the original special, this one involves the heroes of the Sequel Trilogy gathering on Chewbacca’s homeworld of Kashyyyk to celebrate the Star Wars Christmas equivalent known as Life Day. Unlike the original, everybody’s already on the planet and the main focus there is a good-old-fashioned “Getting

 COMMUTER@LINNBENTON.EDU

AT LBCC?

STARRING: Pedro Pascal, Carl Weathers, Horatio Sanz,

saga.

Though the show’s visual effects largely had to be done from home due to the COVID-19 pandemic, principal photography on the season had thankfully wrapped beforehand. Aside from a minor gaffe in the fourth episode of the season where a stagehand had to be digitally removed, the work so far on the season is visually stunning. The

S H I P COUNCIL

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