The Miami Student Magazine | Spring 2023

Volume XII | Spring 2023

Editor-in-Chief

Skyler Perry

Managing Editor

GraciAnn Hicks

Art Director

Macey Chamberlin

Editorial Staff

Meta Hoge, Hannah Horsington, Jessica Opfer, Allison Huffman, Henri Robbins

Art Staff

Caitlin Dominski, Erin McGovern, Erin Morgan, Hannah Potts, Katie Preston

Photography Staff

Caitlin Dominski, Henri Robbins, Jake Ruffer

Copy Editors

Laurel Dobrozsi, Bailey Miller

Business Manager

Devin Ankeney

Head of Student Media

Sean Scott

Faculty Advisor

James Tobin

Business Advisor

Sacha Bellman

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Skyler Perry

Allison Huffman

Sam Norton

Devin Ankeney

GraciAnn Hicks

Evan Stefanik

Adam Smith, Sam Weible, Morgan Schneider, Jarred Watkins

Henri Robbins

Abby Bammerlin

Letter from the Editor

#BookTok

The Miami University... Bobcats?

Oxford's Favorite Ice Cream Shop

The Renaissance of Miami's Medieval Club

The College-Age Vinyl Wave

Vignettes Cheap

LETTER FROM THE EDITOR

I would also like to thank TMSM’s editorial team: Managing Editor GraciAnn Hicks and Assistant Editors Meta Hoge, Hannah Horsington, Allison Huffman, Jessica Opfer and Henri Robbins. You are the driving force behind this magazine; none of it would be possible without you.

Another huge shoutout goes to our art director, Macey Chamberlin, and her incredible team of designers. I am constantly amazed by all of your creativity. Lastly, another thank you goes to the excellent photographers who worked with us on this issue.

Dear Reader,

Greetings from the staff of The Miami Student Magazine (TMSM). I am pleased to welcome you to the spring 2023 edition of our publication.

This issue features a wide variety of stories ranging from the re-creation of medieval times to modern ecological discoveries. Readers will also learn about a niche TikTok community, the fast fashion industry, a very special local ice cream shop, two students’ views on religion and competitive rock climbing.

Our cover story for the twelfth issue of TMSM is Evan Stefanik’s profile of Black Plastic Records Oxford. Be sure to check out “The College-Age Vinyl Wave” on page 33 to learn how the uptown vinyl shop has become the indie heart of Miami’s music-loving community.

In addition to these long-form stories, TMSM is excited to continue featuring several short stories or, as we like to call them, Vignettes. These brief articles offer a sneak peek into the lives and experiences of three different Miami students, including a track and field athlete, an artist and an entrepreneur.

At this time, I would like to thank all of the incredible writers whose skills, passion and dedication make this magazine possible. You should all be very proud of what you accomplished this semester.

Together, we have all consistently worked to provide readers with beautifully designed, thought-provoking, inspiring and entertaining stories from the Miami University campus, Oxford community and beyond.

Before I let you go, I would also like to communicate my heartfelt appreciation for this publication and the opportunity I was given to be editor-in-chief for three semesters.

I am incredibly appreciative to have received the amount of individual and organizational support from the TMSM staff and the Miami community that I did. It has been my honor to serve in this role, and I will miss it greatly after my impending graduation from Miami this May.

I love you, TMSM. Thank you for everything.

With that, I am thrilled to present Issue XII of The Miami Student Magazine.

Best,

Skyler Perry Editor-in-Chief

At TMSM, we are constantly striving to learn and grow, so your feedback is both welcomed, appreciated and encouraged. Please do not hesitate to reach out to the email provided below.

MEET OUR WRITERS!

DEVIN ANKENEY

is a junior majoring in journalism and media and communication with with a mi nor in history. They have visited every state east of the Mississippi and enjoy main taining a record collection. Devin is the business manager for The Miami Student and serves as an opinion editor for the organization's newspaper.

ABBY BAMMERLIN

is a senior majoring in political science and journalism with a minor in history. She currently serves as the managing editor-at-large for The Miami Student organization and is a fourth-time writer for the magazine. She enjoys collecting and restoring antique cameras, rock climbing, kayaking, hiking and photography. Abby also loves traveling and hopes to live abroad someday.

G raci a nn

is the managing editor for The Miami Student Magazine and is also a senior editor and staff writer for RedHawk Radio. GraciAnn is double majoring in journalism and professional writing with a minor in Spanish. She has a passion for playing and writing music, but she also enjoys hiking and reading as well.

ALLISON HUFFMAN

is a junior majoring in professional writing and English literature with a minor in digital marketing. This is Allison’s first semester working as an assistant editor and writer for The Miami Student Magazine. She is also a fiction and poetry editor for Happy Captive Magazine. In her free time, Allison enjoys crocheting, watching old movies and exploring coffee shops.

SAM NORTON

is a student of Miami’s Honors College and enjoys outdoor activities such as hiking, backpacking, camping and skiing. A returning writer, Sam is also a columnist for The Miami Student newspaper’s opinion section and is the incoming editor-in-chief for GreenHawks Media. When the sophomore isn’t writing or exploring, he studies biology with a co-major in environmental science and minor in journalism.

HENRI ROBBINS

is a junior pursuing a degree in journalism with minors in media, arts, and culture, as well as photography. He has written for The Miami Student Magazine six times and became one of its assistant editors this semester. Henri is also involved in RedHawk Radio, and has a passion for cars, vinyl, photography, poetry and art.

currently serves as the editor-in-chief of GreenHawks Media, and this is her first time writing for The Miami Student Magazine. They are a senior majoring in jour nalism, environmental science with a minor in French. She likes reading, hiking and baking. Morgan is an active member of the Alpha Omicron Pi sorority and holds both American and Canadian citizenship.

ADAM SMITH

is a sophomore marketing major with a minor in creative writing. He enjoys reading, listening to music, and using the Oxford comma in his free time, but he also serves as the assistant business manager of The Miami Student. Adam is a member of Miami's Track and Field Team. During his athletic career, he has competed against three different Olympians.

MORGAN SCHNEIDER EVAN STEFANIK

is a sophomore majoring in journalism and creative writing. He is a style editor for The Miami Student, president of Just Duet A Cappella and a singer in Miami's Men's Glee Club. His favorite thing in the world is his dog, Domino, and he practiced Irish dance for four and a half years.

JARRED WATKINS

is a new writer for The Miami Student Magazine who also serves as the president of Miami's Chapter of the Society of Professional Journalists. In his free time, he enjoys reading books, hammocking when the weather is nice and marathon running. Jarred is a junior double majoring in journalism and linguistics with a minor in photography.

SAM WEIBLE

is actively involved in the arts community on campus including the printmaking club and the visual arts club. The junior is pursuing a double major in studio art and art history, but is also passionate about Dungeons and Dragons, video games and punk music. A fun fact about Sam is that they are semi-conversational in American Sign Language.

#BookTok

Social media communities revitalize the literary landscape

By Allison Huffman

Illustrations by Hannah Potts

TikTok is a social media platform that has gained popularity due to its algorithm, which targets users with videos that match their interests on its “For You Page.” This ap proach has led to the creation of “Toks,” which are niche groups of users seeing similar content based on a shared interest.

For example, "GymTok" is a community of fitness en thusiasts who enjoy watching workout routines and exer cise tips, while "ArtTok" is for creative people who enjoy watching art studio tours and craft supply hauls.

“BookTok” is another community that has emerged from the platform. Here, users post about their reading habits, share book reviews or recommendations and rant or rave about popular authors. Since its rise to popularity, BookTok has had a significant impact on the literary industry, readers, content creators, publishers and writers. ***

Even though many bookstores were forced to close during the COVID-19 pandemic, BookTok has helped to increase global interest in reading since 2019.

According to The New York Times, BookTok helped raise book sales by 50% in 2022. That was also the first year that Barnes & Noble began an official partnership with TikTok and created the #BookTokChallenge, a summer reading challenge that called upon users to read promoted BookTok books and post about them online.

Today, at Barnes & Noble and many other bookstores across the nation, it’s not uncommon to find shelves decorated with #BookTok signs advertising the latest trending titles.

The popularity of BookTok has also reached Miami University. Anna Mayschak, a junior biology and premedical studies major, is an avid reader and BookTok viewer. Even with her busy college schedule, Mayschak finds time for fantasy novels.

Mayschak said she has been reading her whole life, but BookTok has made her want to read more often and has exposed her to many new series she never would have picked up before.

“My ‘to-be-read list’ is so much longer after joining TikTok,” Mayschak said. “Whenever I need a book to read, I go to my saved videos and find recommendations. People will have giant lists of ‘if you liked this book, read this book.’”

Mayschak’s favorite thing about BookTok is that it provides a sense of connection and understanding between book lovers from all around the world. She especially enjoys theorizing with other readers about the endings to their favorite series. Mayschak also likes laughing at funny bookish content that keeps her in the atmosphere of her favorite stories long after she’s finished reading.

“Every time I finish a book, I’ll have a ‘book hangover,’ so I’ll go to TikTok and type in the name of the book and just scroll through the videos to keep me in that world,” Mayschak said.

For Mayschak and many others like her, the BookTok community creates a space for readers to connect and share their passions, tailoring a personalized online experience that keeps them coming back to the app.

life where I don’t have to worry about school.”

“I didn’t really like TikTok at first, until it found that niche where it’s showing me things I actually like,” Mayschak said.

While BookTok has recently gained popularity on TikTok, readers have been utilizing social media for years to express their opinions and share their insights about books. Instagram’s reading community is called “Bookstagram,” or “#Booksta” for short. Here, people post photos and videos about recent reads, reviews, recommendations and thoughts on their favorite fictional characters.

Jorryn Gauthier, a sophomore strategic communication major, has been running her Bookstagram account since she was 13. Since then, she has gained almost 10,000 followers on her account, @fromthelibraryofalexis.

Gauthier posts about what she’s reading every week and uses her Bookstagram as a creative outlet to practice photography, sharing aesthetic photos of her favorite book covers or recent reads.

Gauthier also shares her reading journey on her growing BookTok account, @libraryofalexis. She expressed that TikTok has a lot of advantages over Instagram, especially for rising creators. Gauthier said that unlike TikTok, Instagram’s algorithm has strict rules, and only a small percentage of followers actually see a creator’s posts.

“TikTok shows your posts to all your followers and even people outside of your followers,” Gauthier said. “It’s more fun with more people to talk to and more engagement.”

Gauthier has no close friends or family who like to read the same kind of books she does, so making content and talking to other Bookstagrammers is her way of connecting with people who share her love for romance books.

“There is something special about talking in-depth about something you love so much, especially when there is no one near you who can share that experience,” Gauthier said. ***

Lily Wahl, a first-year English literature, creative writing and Spanish triple major, is an avid reader who has written book reviews for The Miami Student. She also runs a Bookstagram account, @lilymariereads, that she started in high school.

“I started my Bookstagram because I felt like I didn’t have access to a literary community,” Wahl said. “I just decided to take that step to meet new people and learn about new books.”

Wahl enjoys creating inventive bookish content — like recommendations based on songs from Taylor Swift’s latest album, “Midnights” — but they mainly focus on sharing reviews.

“I don’t necessarily think that my opinions about the books should make people decide to read the book or not,” Wahl said. “I want to create a space to open those conversations about them.”

Despite their presence on Bookstagram, Wahl chooses not to create content on BookTok. Wahl prefers Instagram over TikTok because it allows her to organize her thoughts in writing instead of just speaking to a camera in a short, informal video format.

“I haven’t really ventured into BookTok because it requires you to put so much more of yourself out there … in a way that Instagram doesn’t,” Wahl said. “I don’t have to worry as much about how people are going to perceive me, and I think people can focus more on my writing about the books and the pictures themselves.”

***

These students’ social media accounts are a reflection of the changing relationship between artist and audience in the digital age. However, BookTok has also changed the way publishers and readers interact.

Both Gauthier and Wahl receive free advanced reader copies of upcoming books before they are released. Publishers send books to content creators in the hopes that they will promote them to their audience, creating a positive pre-release buzz.

Wahl collaborates with Atria Books, which is an imprint of Simon & Schuster.

“It’s been really cool to feel like I’m part of the journey for those books to come to publication, especially because I’m a writer as well,” Wahl said. “I’d like to think that maybe a few years down the line I’ll be in their shoes.”

Despite the benefit of receiving books earlier, Gauthier said she would like more content creators to think about the kind of books they promote.

“People who have a platform should be critical about who we are supporting,” Gauthier said. “Media is important and can define how we see the world.”

Gauthier, like Wahl and many other book content creators, keeps a “no-post list” of controversial authors that she chooses not to promote on her page. This list includes Colleen Hoover and J.K. Rowling due to their controversial comments and writing.

Colleen Hoover, the famous author of “It Ends With Us,” has dominated the top three spots on various bestsellers lists in 2022 thanks to her success on BookTok. At the same time, readers have voiced concerns that her novels portray toxic relationships as romantic to a young audience.

Meanwhile, since 2020, J.K. Rowling, author of the “Harry Potter” series, has been at the center of online controversy after making transphobic comments which she continues to spread on Twitter.

It is for reasons like these that Gauthier has rejected deals from publishers requesting she review books from other controversial authors who go against her personal values.

“It feels morally wrong to say ‘read this book’ if I don’t agree with the content,” Gauthier said. ***

“These online spaces have become the communal meeting space, the virtual book club.”

Overall, the bookish side of social media has become a remote community where both writers and readers have the opportunity to stay connected wherever they are. Joseph Bates, an associate professor in the English department at Miami, has seen BookTok’s effect, both online and

“These online spaces have become the communal meeting space, the virtual book club,” Bates said. “[These spaces] might not be ordinarily available to readers, especially as we’ve seen brick-and-mortar spaces come under threat in the last 10-plus years and coming out of lockdown with

Bates said he has seen more and more students in his class about the literary marketplace reflecting on BookTok in addition to other social media niches. Many of them even see the community as an important part of their read-

“These online platforms have, to some degree, helped democratize book marketing,” Bates said. “They have an effect not just on our reading habits, not just our spending habits, but the ability of art and artists to reach new audiences.”

At the same time, BookTok also highlights the reading community’s tensions and negative qualities. Mayschak expressed concern about how the BookTok community can make viewers feel like there is a right or wrong way to read.

“It’s literature. It’s art. It’s open to interpretation,” Mayschak said. “No one’s opinion is inherently wrong or better

Bates, a published author himself, also has concerns about BookTok. He believes it may be adding to the belief that writers need to have a social media presence in order to succeed in the publishing world.

“It can be extraordinarily empowering, but it can also be somewhat nerve-racking thinking about the necessity of having an online platform or even that disappearing line between the private life and one’s creative work,” Bates said.

Because BookTok is still fairly new, there are many uncertainties going forward.

“Part of the burden and joy of [the literary marketplace] is that it sort of requires us all to stay on our toes,” Bates said. “The marketplace changes quickly; things we were talking about last year, we might not be talking about this year.”

Despite its challenges, the popularity of BookTok is a testament to the passion within the reading community, which is full of people who are always looking for new ways to fuel their love of literature. S

Bobcats?

Illustrations by Erin Morgan, Photo provided by Sam Norton

First confirmed sighting of elusive cat promises hope for returning biodiversity

By Sam Norton

It’s not every day that someone makes a newsworthy ecological discovery while sitting in their bed, but that’s exactly what happened to me on a random November afternoon.

Earlier that day, I had spent an hour in the woods next to Miami University’s Western Campus downloading footage from trail cameras for a project headed by Miami professor of biology David Gorchov. The cameras were installed to allow for the observation of white-tailed deer.

I went home to watch the footage and take note of any activity on it. After over an hour of staring at footage of squirrels, birds and deer moving in and out of view, something suddenly caught my attention.

Right before my eyes, a fluffy tan creature jumped onto a fallen log, surveyed the immediate area, let out a snarl and then stalked out of frame. Its sharp ears, short tail and small stature instantly captured my attention and caused my train of thought to come to a grinding halt.

I quickly sat up in my bed and rewound the clip, playing it over and over again.

There was no doubt about it. I was watching crystal clear footage of a bobcat no more than a few hundred yards south of the pedestrian trail leading away from Peffer Park. I immediately took a screenshot to capture the footage and emailed professor Gorchov.

I did not know it at the time, but I quickly realized that what I had just watched was the first confirmed sighting of a bobcat in the Miami University Natural Areas.

The Miami University Natural Areas are located along the southern, eastern and northeastern edge of Miami’s campus and comprise over 1,000 acres of protected forest and other habitats. They are used for education, recreation and research by Miami students and staff.

The motion-sensing trail cameras that had been in the woods surrounding Miami were placed there to capture data on deer activity and their impact on various natural areas.

Overabundant deer in the Miami University Natural Areas pose a threat to the health of the ecosystem, and the frequency of deer spottings on the university's campus is proof of the problem.

Elea Cooper, a junior biology and sustainability major, set up the trail cameras in the summer of 2022 for her own research project in Gorchov’s lab. She hoped that by using trail cameras, she could get an estimate of the total number of deer in the Miami University Natural Areas.

After Cooper was done with the cameras, I was responsible for lowering them to observe what the deer ate as the low-hanging leaves that make up much of their diet started to fall. It was that lower camera height that allowed this first-of-its-kind video to be captured.

White-tailed deer are so abundant in the Natural Areas that Gorchov did not expect to see much else of interest on the cameras.

“I thought we might see coyotes or wild turkey,” Gorchov said. “There are some interesting animals in the Natural Areas, but it never occurred to me that we'd see a bobcat.”

“Since that time, there has been a pretty rapid change,” Dennison said. “The return of forests in Ohio is a huge factor.”

Since I started writing this story, at least 36 official sightings have been reported.

Although bobcats have made their way back to southwestern Ohio, they are still a rare sight in the wild. Dennison explained that areas with a mixture of forest and open space, along with natural vegetation, are ideal habitats for predators like bobcats.

Due to centuries of agriculture and the growth of large population centers in southwestern Ohio, though, much of the huge expanses of forest that once allowed bobcats to thrive have been demolished.

Bobcats were driven out of Ohio around the mid-1800s, according to Ohio Division of Wildlife furbearer biologist Katie Dennison.

The Ohio Division of Wildlife began monitoring the presence of bobcats in 1970, and for three decades, the state rarely recorded more than five verified sightings in a year. Butler County didn't record its first confirmed bobcat sighting until 2008.

While Dennison and her colleagues have labeled Butler County as having low habitat suitability, bobcats have proved to be resilient and made their way back to the areas of the state that they once called home.

Dennison suspects this species made its way from southeastern Ohio over to Butler County by following the forested corridors that exist along the Ohio River Valley.

Forested corridors are areas of habitat that connect wildlife populations amidst human activity and development. Segments of undeveloped forest and forested river banks located among vast stretches of agriculture and urbanization — such as the Miami University Natural Areas — make up these corridors that allow wildlife to safely traverse between habitats.

“Maintaining those forested corridors is important,” Dennison said. “In a pure sea of agriculture, you’re not going to have many bobcats sticking around.”

Bobcats have been observed breeding and have now established a population at an old nuclear power plant turned wildlife reserve near Ross Township. Ross sits along Route 27 just north of Cincinnati and a little over a 20-minute drive from Oxford.

Susan Hoffman, an associate professor of biology at Miami, has hypothesized about the specific routes bobcats could have taken north from the Ohio River.

Hoffman believes the bobcats have been using forests such as those next to Ross to travel toward Oxford. Specifically, she thinks they have been moving north through creek beds such as Four Mile Creek and other tributaries that feed into the Great Miami River.

Observing the spark of interest spread in the community after I found the trail camera footage has been very encouraging. The incredible interaction shows how many people are excited about this fascinating species becoming more commonplace in Butler County.

While this was the first bobcat spotted in the woods bordering Miami, it’s not the first time they have been seen in the surrounding areas. Hoffman has been keeping tabs on these cats in the greater Oxford area for the past few years.

“I have property a few miles outside of town, and my husband and I have seen bobcats twice there,” Hoffman said. “The fall 2021 semester we also had a game camera catch a photo of one at the Ecology Research Center at night.”

Since the news of this sighting was released, Hoffman and Gorchov have received several emails from residents in the surrounding area who have seen or captured footage of bobcats on their own property.

“In terms of effects, it’s great,” Hoffman said. “It’s a native species; it does belong here.”

According to Dennison, the Division of Wildlife states that observing individuals with young is a key sign that a species may be establishing a more permanent population in a certain area. She noted that this has been seen in Butler County, which indicates that bobcats are hopefully here to stay.

“There’s certainly a place for them in the ecosystem wherever there’s at least semi-natural forest,” Hoffman said.

Unfortunately, the Miami University Natural Areas have suffered over the past few years due to an explosion in the populations of white-tailed deer and the invasive bush species Amur honeysuckle.

In addition, Cooper has discovered that the tree seedlings in the Natural Areas are not currently at the density needed for the forest to survive long into the future. So although it is encouraging that this area is currently sustaining bobcats, more will need to be done to ensure that our forests stay healthy and natural.

If bobcats stick around, they could be part of the solution. If the predator goes after deer and other small animals, the native vegetation levels have the potential to increase and bolster the biodiversity of the forest, which, in turn, should allow it to survive longer into the future. This effect has been shown in studies within Yellowstone National Park involving wolves and elk.

“Having learned how sensitive the Natural Areas are has made the discovery more impactful because, hopefully, it's a sign of balance coming back,” Cooper said. ***

The discovery of such a rare and elegant species so close to Miami has brought an incredible amount of interest and recognition from the community for the Miami University Natural Areas.

After the trail camera footage of the bobcat was discovered and shared, sightings of these creatures in and around Miami's campus became increasingly popular.

Within a month, word spread, and the university wrote a story about my findings, which became the most-read article on Miami’s website with over 10,000 views. The news also spread to local Facebook groups within Oxford and was covered by newspapers in Cincinnati.

Still, this sighting serves as a stark reminder that we must continue to protect the Miami Natural Areas if we want healthy ecosystems for all sorts of species to thrive.

There are miles of trails available for students to explore, and developing an appreciation for the nature that surrounds us can ignite a desire to become involved in restoring our forest to its more natural state.

Supporting research within the Natural Areas and understanding how our choices as individuals and communities impact these natural systems is a great way to take the first step. We have an amazing local ecosystem; the excitement of native bobcats returning should only encourage us to continue our efforts to preserve and protect it.S

“Having learned how sensitive the Natural Areas are has made the discovery more impactful because, hopefully, it's a sign of balance coming back.”

Spring Street Treats gives locals a sweet experience like none other

By Devin Ankeney

“You ever seen a power drill on a whisk before?” Allen Ansorg asks me.

The co-owner of Spring Street Treats is proud of his strange tool.

We are standing in an ice cream shop in the middle of February. Nothing is happening around us as a tiny black television shows some unimportant UFC fight and pop music plays on a radio in the background. The brand new Crosley radio, which could easily have been bought from Urban Outfitters, sits in front of a stack of Allen’s Night Ranger cassette tapes.

It’s hardly 40 degrees. There are no customers. It’s just Dan Pollock, a senior in a Miami basketball jersey over a thick hoodie, and his boss Allen, in a brown T-shirt, who’s wielding his homemade combination power-drill-whisk over a five-gallon bucket.

I have no idea what the hell he’s doing.

Turns out, about a week after he and his Miami Merger wife Amy opened the shop in July 2012, Allen’s ice cream whisking got the best of him. His arm and elbow began to hurt and grow sore. So he bought himself a compression sleeve that he wears virtually every day in the shop to use with his homemade whisk.

The inside of the microscopic shop is doused in fluorescent white, and a bin of Allen’s rusting tools sits under a shelving unit for supplies. There’s more peanut butter than I’ve ever seen in my life. Four ice cream machines are simultaneously humming their own song like a bad barbershop quartet.

There are bleachers outside, which Allen put up for parents to watch their kids as they play in the courtyard that’s larger than the building by a long shot. Whether it’s ring toss, climbing structures or a loose rubber football that just has to be somewhere, there’s something for everyone.

A car pulls up to the bulletproof glass service window under the cracked light indicating “OPEN,” where pneumatic tubes used to be up-and-running — remnants of the approximately 600-square-foot building’s days as a bank. Although, the bank certainly didn’t have playground equipment scattered outside. That was all Allen.

According to Allen, the customers that pull up alongside the neon green walls of the establishment are “mostly college girls,” but this customer was a middle-aged man in an F-150.

The man orders a slew of ice cream treats and Allen’s new concoction: pulled pork nachos. Dan rings the fellow up and sends him on his way.

Illustrations by Caitlin Dominski, Photos by Jake Ruffer

nothing. Something is bound to happen, though … right?

On days when the weather hits a toasty 50 degrees or higher, odds are a few there will be at least a couple families enjoying the old schoolyard-esque equipment. And odds are they’ll all be wearing winter coats and have a frozen treat somewhere nearby.

But inside the shop, the weather doesn’t change much of the ambience. It may be cold, but Allen, in his shortsleeved shirt, still serves sweet treats and a momentary lapse in the stresses of daily life.

There’s hardly room for three employees inside the building, let alone any customers after Allen gutted and remodeled the building during the pandemic. Today, there’s a skinny counter at the walk-up window for summer customers. It smells vaguely of hot fudge even from that window, and the radio’s amalgamation of pop and ’70s rock can be heard from almost anywhere on the premises.

Allen smiles a lot. Running the local ice cream shop isn’t just what he does. It’s what he cares about. He wonders if his employees feel like part of the community that he’s been a part of for decades.

Allen smiles a lot even though he has to hire new employees — mostly college students on semester schedules — every few months.

The shop may have lost money last year, but Allen hasn’t lost spirit. He’s holding everything together the same way he figured out how to whisk ice cream without ruining his elbow: his way.

Regardless, Allen’s warm and inviting smile is pervasive. He doesn’t stop caring for the people around him, even when he’s wondering how to make things work.

Most of us – I, in particular – certainly don’t think of ice cream shops as the epitome of American entrepreneurship: a surefire, foolproof way to make it big no matter where you are in the country.

But that isn’t all that matters. Not to everyone.

“Welcome to the party!” Allen says emphatically as Zoey Laslo arrives for her shift with Katie Sennett right behind her. Both are students. Both are new hires.

season’s employees are still wet behind their ears, and nobody really knows each other yet. It’s hardly a party for anyone.

Except, maybe, for Allen.

Peering out through the drive-thru window, I can see the sun setting over a power facility that blocks one-third of the view. It sets over the massive Kroger that sells all the sweet treats a kid could dream of. It sets over the Walgreens that has limitless candy no matter how far away Halloween is.

Somewhere else in town, it also sets over the Graeter’s, United Dairy Farmers and Dairy Queen, which all opened after Spring Street Treats. Each sells ice cream, but none of them sell pulled pork nachos or the ever-so-popular Reese’s Explosion.

None of them sell the feeling that Spring Street Treats does.

Despite all the ice cream options that exist, when the people of Oxford — high school students, families, college students, visitors — need a frozen fix, the small local shop is often their go-to.

The sunset over the epitome of corporate America is the ugliest yet most incredible sight to see. It’s the perfect view to watch from a tiny, rural, hometown-favorite, Allen-made ice cream shop in Nowhere, Ohio.

Ice cream is universal. The compulsive desire for something sweet and wholly unhealthy is common. Spring Street Treats and, more importantly, Allen provide that feeling we all know and cherish with a cone, mix-up or sundae of our favorite flavor.

He brings summertime to the wintertime the way a pint of Ben & Jerry’s from the Walmart frozen aisle simply can’t.

I walk away with a malt in my hand. I hadn’t realized that the temperature outside had dropped to nearly freezing, or that the sun was buried deep below Kroger, or that my fingers felt like they were going to fall off.

My outside life paused for a brief moment, and nothing else mattered but an inane sweet treat.S

THE MIAMI STUDENT MAGAZINE, SPRING 2023

The Renaissance of Miami’s Medieval Club

Exploring the communal ties that span centuries

By GraciAnn Hicks

“This is Kaden’s favorite game,” Docier says. They dance from side to side, taunting their opponent as he stares them down. “He knows he’s going to lose.”

Arsenius, also known as Kaden, holds a blue and black rattan sword in one hand and a large black shield in the other. He stands poised to attack.

The two hold the distance between them for a while longer. The room is quiet as spectators wait to see who will break first.

He lunges at Docier, who holds up a small metal shield to block his sword. It rings after the two make contact.

Confident footsteps propel Arsenius forward. He has the advantage with his height and larger kite shield.

Spectators sit huddled together at the edges of the classroom. All eyes are on the armor-clad fighters as they circle each other. Someone occasionally says “bonk” after a particularly resonant hit.

Docier sinks to their knees after Arsenius’s sword slashes their hip. They have lost the ability to use their legs.

After a few more jabs from Arsenius, Docier lets out a defeated “OK” to let him know that he has made a winning hit. The fight lasted less than a minute.

Arsenius remains in the middle to duel his next opponent.

A few hours ago, the two fighters were just normal students at Miami University named Kaden King and Adi Weeden. But under heavy steel helmets and a full body of armor, they are Arsenius and Docier, members of Miami’s Medieval Club, an affiliation of the international Society for Creative Anachronism’s (SCA) Dayton Barony of the Flaming Griffin.

Each Wednesday, the two students and at least 10 other club members gather to battle it out with rapiers and rattan swords.

The rapier fighting resembles fencing, with more variety in sword and fighting style. Each sword is about 3 feet long and made from steel, but the edges are blunt so that fighters don’t hurt each other. The heavy armor fighting that King and Weeden practice, however, allows for a more intense duel with rattan swords, which are made from a sturdy grasslike plant.

More than a reenactment group or just a fight club, though, Medieval Club focuses on teaching people about medieval history and culture. This particular practice lacks an arts and sciences component, but each meeting normally includes a non-fighting element.

One week, a guest taught members about medieval board games. Another week, they learned how to make yarn. They have an embroidery lesson planned for the near future.

Like many organizations, the Medieval Club didn’t gather during the pandemic. It existed on paper, but most of the club’s active members had graduated. For a while, it was a dead organization that celebrated a dead culture.

Illustrations by Macey Chamberlin, Photos by Jake Ruffer

That was until the fall 2022 semester, when Niko Babb ment and data science & statistics double major, set about

Babb Galvis attended an event held by a SCA chapter at the University of Pensacola as a ninth-grade student and enjoyed the activities it offered. He realized that Miami’s Medieval Club wasn’t active, so he stepped into the role

“At the beginning of last semester, I had the opportunity to start it back up again,” Babb Galvis said. “I met the right people as president, so I basically started it from scratch

Now, the clinking of rapiers and clanking of armor fill ning as the Medieval Club experiences its own renaissance.

Most people join the club because of the fighting aspect, but they often stay when they discover community or passion.

“The community is amazing; everyone is very helpful,” King said. “A big thing with a lot of other organizations is like, ‘You need to be able to be here all the time for all our meetings.’ We’re just like, ‘Life comes first, SCA comes second.’”

King is used to sticking to himself as a self-proclaimed introvert, but he has found belonging among his friends from Medieval Club and other SCA baronies.

“They’re the people I see the most,” King said. “I don’t think I have other friends who aren’t almost directly involved in either SCA or Medieval Club stuff. Most of them have some relationship to it.”

Olive Abram, a first-year political science and sustainability double major, echoed King’s praise of the SCA culture.

“It’s just a really welcoming community with a bunch of nerds in it of all ages,” she said.

During a practice on a warmer Wednesday, Abram and her friend, fellow first year Delta Litton, sit in the grass outside McGuffey as the heavy armor fighters gear up a few yards away. They banter as they inspect each other’s armor to ensure that everything is in place.

“Hey Adi, I’m going to get murdered tonight,” King says.

“Okay, you do you,” Weeden says.

Abram focuses her attention on a pastel cross-stitch pattern, and Litton works on homework. Although they don’t engage in any of the fighting, they attend the practice because they enjoy the atmosphere and other aspects of the club.

Abram joined the club from Mega Fair, like King, but she had prior interest in medieval culture.

“I was really obsessed with the TV show ‘Merlin’ for a long time, so I got really into medieval history in early high school because of that,” she said.

While her interest in the show has faded, she now leans into the arts and sciences side of the club.

The club’s treasurer, sophomore computer science major Paige Helmke, also gravitates toward this side of SCA. She practices calligraphy and bookbinding.

“We do more than just fighting,” Helmke said. “Because this is a big part of what we do, we have the fencing, and we have the heavy armor stuff. But we’re trying to get more into the arts and sciences stuff. And I think that’s a part of the club that people don’t realize that we focus on.”

For people to compete in official SCA tournaments, they need to be certified. The tournament where King became certified even required the participant to have an arts and sciences project, demonstrating the importance of cultural aspects within the greater SCA society.

At 6:45 p.m., 15 minutes after the club’s official start time, Babb Galvis calls for attention at the front of the room. After his announcements, members push desks against the walls to transform the space into a fighting den.

Excitement courses through the room as the clanking of desks subsides and members gear up for rapier fighting. Across the hall, students and instructors equip themselves with full body armor; they don steel helmets, breastplates, and shoulder and leg coverings.

Once everyone is ready, the fighting can commence.

“Hi,” Arsenius says.

“Long time no spar,” Docier replies.

Adrenaline runs high even for spectators.

The attacks are both calculated and random. They carry on a disjointed dance of hits and misses.

Clothing peeks through gaps in the fighters’ armor, a small detail which slightly distracts from the fight’s escapist qualities.

Although the room fills with the cacophony of the battle, there is no ill-will.

“Everyone is an instructor and a learner,” King said.

Although he dedicates more time to SCA practices than most members of the Medieval Club, he doesn’t fight arrogantly.

“Even those newer fighters, they’re going to be teaching older fighters things that they never thought about,” he said. “There’s just a really cool dynamic.”

In between rounds, their instructor, whose persona is a second century Roman guard named Sylvies, offers pointers.

After the meeting, King, Weeden and a couple other friends will go out to dinner together. They won’t leave McGuffey until 9:30 p.m. or later once they’ve changed back into normal clothes and decided where to eat.

When they depart, however, it won’t be long until they reunite. Tomorrow evening, King will pick up friends to drive to practice for Barony of the Flaming Griffin and spar again.S

Illustrations by Macey Chamberlin

Black Plastic Records creates a haven for music lovers in Oxford

By Evan Stefanik

Illustrations and photos by Caitlin Dominski

When customers walk into Black Plastic Records Oxford, the bell on the door rings, and suddenly, rock ‘n’ roll or punk rock music pours over them. The fresh hardwood floors are surrounded by teal blue walls adorned with various albums and shelves full of rolled up posters. An island sits in the center, displaying jewelry and stickers, all with the hopes of drawing people in.

Despite the decorations and wearable items available for sale, the stacks of vinyl records arranged alphabetically within their genres pull everything together; Black Plastic offers everything from Iron Maiden to Taylor Swift.

Although many customers come into the shop with an album already in mind, the long-haired man behind the counter wearing cozy black clothing often changes their minds.

Steve Schmoll, owner of Black Plastic, has successfully pitched all kinds of music to people over the years. As a vinyl connoisseur in and out of the shop for 40-50 hours every week, Schmoll naturally shares his expertise.

“I always wanted to work at a record store when I was younger,” Schmoll said. “I’ve been listening to albums for as long as I can remember. Music is a healthy thing. It’s my lifestyle.”

Schmoll practically lived in record shops as a teenager, which led him to explore other music-related positions in his adult life, like working as a concert sound engineer and tour manager before getting into the record business.

Later in life, Schmoll decided to return to his roots and open a smaller, premiere Black Plastic in downtown Cincinnati. Eventually, the pandemic forced him to close it with four months still left on his lease. Without anybody at work nearby to generate foot traffic, Schmoll decided to move.

He relocated the shop to Oxford in November 2022 because Miami University was the only college campus he could think of without a record store. Today, Schmoll curates his inventory based on the interests of students, who gravitate toward indie rock, rap, punk and metal.

Schmoll said half his buyers frequent the shop once a week, including junior music education major Mason Snyder.

Snyder continues to invest in his over $3,000 vinyl collection that he started as a 10-year-old. He meticulously cares for his beloved records, such as a fully functional 1920s “Hot Five and Hot Seven Sessions” by Louis Armstrong, which he inherited from his grandfather.

Like Schmoll, Snyder grew up with vinyl around the house, so now, he makes it a part of his adulthood. He carries on the tradition by setting the mood with a record every time he hosts, and he always explains the context behind his pick.

“MUSIC IS A HEALTHY THING. IT'S MY LIFESTYLE.”

“As a future music educator, I want to [teach] moments of music history,” Snyder said. “The experience vinyl creates and the reaction it evokes means the world to me.”

While Synder could make a decent amount of money by reselling his valuable vinyl collection, he pursues this physical form of music because of the nostalgia it produces.

“There was a resurgence in vinyl playing in my age group that happened during COVID,” Snyder said. “The quality of the sound brought us back to a simpler time.”

Vinyl sales increased by 29% in 2020, producing $626 million in profit according to the Record Industry Association of America.

Schmoll agrees with Snyder’s take on the rising popularity of vinyl and has also noticed an increase in sales. He believes vinyl’s popularity partially stems from people’s desire to escape their daily digital workload.

“People that really like music want to own it and sit and listen to it,” Schmoll said. “It’s better than sitting on a screen all day.”

Despite the vintage appeal of vinyl, Schmoll designed Black Plastic to immerse the modern eye. He hopes to draw customers away from big-box retailers like Amazon and support in-person record shopping instead. One way he keeps customers’ attention is by expanding the available discography by surprise.

While Schmoll enjoys many aspects of his job, he especially cherishes the unique conversations he strikes up at the register.

“I just like helping out customers that are really into music,” Schmoll said. “Especially when they find something they didn’t think we would ever have.”

Schmoll posts a photo of almost everybody who exits the shop with a vinyl on Black Plastic’s Instagram. This includes groups of people like RedHawk Radio’s Music Committee members. The group hung out at the shop together before their meeting one day, chatting about what they dig and shuffling through every box of vinyls.

Schmoll also updates the shop’s online profiles whenever he receives shipments. He loves to express Black Plastic’s personality through its social media.

Once, he published a clip of his friend’s pet opossum crawling across the vinyls. Schmoll coordinated the rodent’s hour-long appearance specifically for Instagram, and after answering multiple requests over the phone, he plans to schedule an in-store meet and greet with it soon.

One newcomer to vinyl, senior environmental earth science and sustainability double major Charity Daly, discovered the page after the opossum video popped up on Instagram. This funny content enticed her to visit Black Plastic the week it launched in Oxford.

Daly currently rotates three records from Black Plastic — “Currents” by Tame Impala, “I Know I’m Funny Haha” by Faye Webster and “Titanic Rising” by Weyes Blood — which Schmoll tagged her holding on Instagram. Just like Snyder, Daly tries to snag a record every time she visits. Whenever she goes with her friends, she said they always ask themselves how they will be able to resist spending all their money at Black Plastic.

When Daly visits, she always strolls through the aisles looking at the different albums, some of which she recognizes, but many that she does not. When she encounters an unfamiliar but intriguing album, she snaps a picture of it to stream before she comes back to commit to the physical copy during her next check-in at Black Plastic.

Daly said the cover art on each album usually impacts her opinions and favorites most. However, even when she is not convinced enough by the record’s aesthetic to buy it, she becomes more tempted if she sees it on the shelf twice.

“If it’s there the next time, then it’s fate,” Daly said. “There can be rare finds there.”

Daly enjoys Black Plastic’s diverse vinyl selection. Snyder feels similarly and appreciates the shop’s aesthetic and social atmosphere.

“One of the great things about the place is that the owner cares,” Snyder said. “I have good conversations with him and always leave having learned something worthwhile.”

For many Miami students, Black Plastic has become their musical home. Since Oxford added the record shop to its strip, both new customers and returning customers value the shop as the indie heart of their Miami experience. S

A collection of brief stories that provide a glimpse into the lives of several people and moments in time

Illustrations by Katie Preston

The Weight of the Throw

Ella Rigel bends over, picks up the handled 20-pound weight made of tungsten and winds her way through the crowd of competitors as she makes her way to the ring.

Her blonde hair is tied back in a crown of braids, and her lean muscles ripple under her jersey. She resembles an ancient Greek warrior walking into battle.

This moment has been years in the making, but right now all she thinks about is staying calm.

Rigel, a sophomore kinesiology major at Miami University, has been a competitive thrower for over half a decade and has found success at every level. From winning multiple state championships in high school to being among Miami's all-time top five throwers as a first-year student, everyone from coaches to other athletes expects her to succeed every time she steps into the ring.

Throwing is an extremely strenuous sport — physically and mentally. Rigel spends hours a day planning out her nutrition, lifting weights and perfecting her technique. It consumes her life. When she isn’t actively practicing, she’s still thinking about how she can be a little better or throw a little farther.

Casper’s Libyan Sibyl

The Libyan Sibyl is not the world's best painting. It's not the most famous from its time, and it’s not even the most famous of Michelangelo's works. It is, however, Andrew Casper's favorite painting.

Casper, an associate professor of art history at Miami University, declared this during a lecture, saying that if he could own any painting in the world, it would be that one. He then joked that anyone who steals it for him would get extra credit. Unfortunately, the painting is a fresco, which means stealing it would involve carving a hole in the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.

With theft off the table, I had another idea: Why couldn't I recreate it for him? I am an artist, after all.

The Libyan Sybil depicts a muscular woman in a bright orange dress holding an oversized book. The musculature is highlighted by the twisted pose and weight in her shoulders. A woman known for prophecies and writings is depicted by Michelangelo as someone who holds so much weight with pure ease.

As I got to work, I wondered why Casper never considered having someone paint a version of the Libyan Sibyl for him before.

But then I remembered — Casper is an art historian. They tend to focus heavily on each artwork being an object whose value came from existing at a singular moment in history.

Meanwhile, to an artist, art is something to be made and practiced.

Rigel has been thinking about this particular track meet all year. It’s the conference championship and her final meet of the indoor season. This is the meet her coaches care about winning the most and it’s against all her biggest rivals. She has heard whispers of her competitors and teammates doubting her, but she knows what she is capable of.

Rigel has been trying to treat today like any other day: She eats a good breakfast full of carbs, drinks plenty of water and conserves her energy.

As she approaches the ring, her high school throws don’t matter now. Nor do her throws from last year or even practice earlier this week.

All that matters is the next one.

She takes a deep breath, reminds herself to relax and lets it fly.

I went on to spend an afternoon researching Michelangelo and studied the way he painted figures. Then, I spent a week painting the Sybil in her twisting pose, lifting her oversized book with shoulders that would make even an Olympian jealous.

Finally, when my work was complete and Casper's birthday had arrived, I gave him my re-creation, and he was stunned. He simply held it for a moment in shock before suddenly reacting animatedly. He quickly talked about how excited he was that I made her look as strong as she did in the original, how the bright colors I used worked so well and how shocked he was that I went out of my way to make it for him.

He had never considered that anyone would look at a piece of art and re-create it, much less simply because he liked the work. During class, he proudly displayed my painting on the whiteboard, stopping class just to tell me how cool it was more than a couple times.

So today, in some small way, Casper did find a way to own the Libyan Sibyl, and he didn't even need to venture outside of Oxford.

After class, the painting found a new home. Hanging in the office of a man who loves it, on a wall among various awards, degrees and memorabilia from alma maters, exists an undergraduate's rendition of a painting that isn’t even the most famous painting on the ceiling it originates from.

The Miami Hatter

For the past couple of months, Sam Sutherland’s dorm room has been a little extra crowded: Among the school-issued beds and desks are boxes and boxes of hats.

It’s all inventory for his self-started business.

Sutherland runs Oxford Provision Company, or OPC, which just released its second collection. The first year undecided business major said the most surprising thing he’s encountered so far is the community support.

“The coolest part about all of this is being able to connect with … people I’ve never met over a project I started for fun,” Sutherland said. “OPC has been able to connect me with new people in a way I never anticipated.”

Sutherland is trying to keep inventory stocked on the OPC website, but that’s tough when every collection has sold out within 72 hours.

Right now, Sutherland is running the entire show alone. He starts by making a design and sending it to one of several production companies. They’ll give him a mock-up, and once he approves it, the inventory is shipped to Shriver’s Mail and Package Center.

From the business side of things, Sutherland is particularly driven by what he himself wants to see in a hat company. This includes offering high-quality products at a reasonable price with unique designs that take cues from current trends without outright copying them.

By the time he graduates, Sutherland wants to have taken OPC “to the absolute max.” He wants it to be the primary vendor of merchandise in Oxford. He dreams of branching out into Greek life and offering them chapter-specific designs from a local source. He also has plans to expand into clothing and hopes to take the company national.

Until then, he will keep selling hats out of his dorm. Does his roommate mind the extra hats scattered around the floor?

“[My roommate is] super cool about it,” Sutherland said. “He doesn't get annoyed.”S

Photo provided by Sam Sutherland

The fast fashion industry is booming.

Brands like Zara and H&M can be found in malls across the United States, and the online retailer Shein became the most popular fashion brand of 2022, according

The methodology of fast fashion companies is to offer low-quality items at a fast pace for very cheap prices. The model relies on recurring, rapid consumption and

By offering so many products and keeping up with trends, brands are able to instill a sense of urgency in consumers, which leads them to repeatedly purchase the

According to Forbes magazine, 72% of college students reported indulging in fast fashion last year. But these trendy clothing pieces come at a humanitarian and envi-

Illustrations by Katie Preston

Fast fashion appeals to many college students due to the convenience and affordability of the clothing. It has also become a habit and source of entertainment for many young people.

“Shopping used to be about fulfilling the needs of your wardrobe,” said Rebecca Robinson, visiting assistant professor of fashion at Miami University. “Now, shopping is about filling them with cheap clothes to wear a few times before discarding them and buying the next trend to stand out or wear to a party.”

Forty percent of college students reported browsing fast fashion websites or apps at least once a day, and 1 in 2 admitted they watch social media fashion hauls at least once a week where it is hard to resist the temptation to buy an item, according to thredUP Newsroom.

That idea is furthered by firsthand consumers on Miami’s campus who admit they don’t often consider what went into making their clothing.

“I don’t like the aesthetic of thrifting, and I don’t have the money to shop high-end as a student, so I go to places like Shein sometimes,” said senior psychology and biology double major Taylor English. “I shop and buy basically whenever I need new clothes, [which is] a few times a year. It is cheap and the clothes are cute.”

Students at Miami may have some concerns about the fast fashion industry and its impact on the environment, but many of them, like sophomore social work major Ava Courtney, often find the convenience of fast fashion and buying clothes online is just too good to pass up.

“I don’t think about much when I am buying clothes from places like Shein or H&M,” Courtney said. “I wear all the clothes a bunch before throwing them away. That being said, I tend to buy my clothes in bulk once or twice a year and try not to shop there too often because, deep down, I know they are bad.” ***

The fast fashion industry is responsible for some concerning statistics.

Zara makes approximately 450 million clothing items on an annual basis. It also produces 20,000 new styles a year that are trendy for a short duration before being replaced, according to Business Insider. However, that is nothing compared to the online fast fashion retailer Shein, which releases 6,000 new styles daily.

According to Time Magazine, the online fast fashion retailer Shein also produces almost 6.3 million tons of carbon dioxide annually. With such rapid production rates, not all of the clothing is sold and it becomes waste that is difficult to dispose of. According to the BBC, the fashion industry is responsible for 92 million tons of textile waste annually.

According to the European Environment Agency, the fashion industry also pollutes the ocean with upwards of 200,000 tons of microfibers and plastics yearly. These microplastics often contain toxic chemicals that can leach into the environment as they break down.

In addition to these environmental concerns, much of the textile industry operates in impoverished nations and areas where government intervention is limited. This leads to poor working conditions for many people.

“Beyond the environmental impacts, we have labor concerns, fair wage concerns and the safety of workers… There is so much more, too, that is concerning,” said Sarah Dumyahn, assistant teaching professor for the Institute for the Environment and Sustainability at Miami.

For example, the average Ethiopian garment maker only earns $26 a month, according to CNN.

“So much of the work is done in [developing] countries where labor is cheaper and margins are tight,” Robinson said. “Fast fashion relies on volume. The less money these companies pay employees and the cheaper the fabrics can be made, the better.”

According to the Bureau of International Labor Affairs, approximately 160 million children ages 5-17 were employed in illegal labor practices globally in 2021.

Children are involved in all stages of garment and textile production, including planting and picking cotton, spinning fabrics, and creating ready-made garments to be sold, according to the Centre for Research on Multinational Corporations.

Even if a company has strict guidelines about labor in its factories, much of the child labor work is facilitated by subcontractors who operate independently. This means the companies that rely on contractors and subcontractors and sell textiles in the U.S. can’t tell consumers where the garments come from with certainty. These systems can make it challenging to prevent child labor or avoid unethically made clothing.

Despite the troubles of the fast fashion industry, a counterculture of thrift shops and secondhand sellers has been steadily growing. Apps like Depop, thredUP and Poshmark arose as the result of this counterculture growth.

Depop is a clothing resale application for users to sell gently used or new clothing at a fraction of their original price. Services like thredUP and Poshmark operate similarly.

Beyond the environmental impacts, we have labor concerns, fair wage concerns and the safety of workers.

As of 2022, Depop had over 30 million registered users. Of these Depop users, over 90% were found to be under the age of 26, according to Time Magazine.

As the app has grown, it has provided users with an alternative to the fast fashion industry. Depop consumers stop textiles from going into landfills each year by reselling and buying clothing items. There are currently over 16 million items for sale on Depop.

Miami and the surrounding Oxford community have come up with their own local counterculture of fashion, as well.

Zero Waste Oxford, a student-run organization at Miami, encourages students to think more critically about where their clothes are coming from. One way they do this is by setting up a thrift shop in the Armstrong Student Center every month.

The president of the organization, senior English literature and philosophy double major Ryan Rosu, said that even if they are not making a large-scale impact on the state of fast fashion, they are at least saving a few pieces from going to the landfill.

“Our pop-up thrift shop in Armstrong takes donations from anybody — a lot of which are fast-fashion pieces from places like Shein,” Rosu said. “Reselling these pieces makes the labor of that piece so much more valuable. And people really do buy them from us, which is great. It is nice knowing that we have extended that life cycle.”

Some fast fashion retailers, including H&M, are showing signs of change to become more sustainable. H&M hopes to reduce its greenhouse gas emissions by 90% by 2040. It also has plans in place to help offset the remaining 10% and reach net-zero emissions.

Until then, consumers can know for certain that they are making a difference by avoiding fast fashion consumption and shopping with resellers like Depop or the Zero Waste Oxford thrift shop.S

Reexamining Faith

Two college students find a new outlook on religion

By Henri Robbins

For many students, college is a time of self-discovery. While this journey can be as small as trying sushi or watching an R-rated movie for the first time, it can also be as significant as reassessing entire worldviews, such as moral or religious beliefs.

At Miami University, religion plays a significant role in the lives of many students. According to the 2017 Cooperative Institutional Research Program’s Freshman Survey, 1 in 3 students at Miami come from households where at least one parent is Roman Catholic. When compared to similar institutions, Miami students are among the most likely to identify as Roman Catholic.

Despite their religious backgrounds, however, many students find that their beliefs and perspectives undergo significant changes during their time at college, whether in small or profound ways.

***

Katie Krueger is a senior at Miami majoring in psychology and art therapy. While they aren’t religious at all today, they were raised in a devout Catholic and conservative household.

Krueger, the second-oldest of six children, identifies as both gay and non-binary, which made for a very confusing early adolescence.

Illustrations by Erin McGovern, Photos by Henri Robbins

“Growing up in that household was stifling, to say the least, because I wasn't even given the language to understand myself,” Krueger said. “I just thought I was kind of funky and weird, and my family just thought I was weird. So I was just weird."

For Krueger, religion was an all-encompassing part of their childhood. Their parents were involved in their local church, sent their children to a Catholic school and raised them with traditional, gendered values.

Krueger’s education was fairly different from public school curriculums as they attended a Catholic school with fewer than 80 students. Along with the typical math and English classes, Krueger attended multiple classes focused on the history of the Church. Many of these classes taught ideas about the will of God and divine justice.

“If a bad thing happens to me, I'm like, ‘Oh, what’d I do to deserve that?’” Krueger said. “Because, obviously, I did something. That's the only reason bad things happened, right? It's definitely something I still struggle with a lot.”

After leaving their household, Krueger no longer considered themself to be religious, but today, they do consider themself to be spiritual.

“I work with Catholic saints in a more witchy sense than Catholicism deals with,” Krueger said. “So, I guess I’ve carried a couple of things into my practice, but not the monotheistic religion part.”

Krueger’s skepticism of organized religion comes not only from their past, but also from a general questioning of religious tenets. They find it pretentious for anyone to say they know everything about God. Despite their history with Catholicism, Krueger does still maintain an appreciation for Jesus.

“Jesus as a historical figure is freakin’ awesome, man,” Krueger said. “If people actually took the time to read about Jesus himself instead of all the adaptations that came after, … there was a lot in there that was just like, ‘Be nice to each other.’ Like, ‘I’m being nice to all these people who are nothing like me. It’s not that hard.’ Sometimes you’ve just got to love people.” ***

Although some students like Krueger may move away from traditional religious beliefs due to negative experiences during their upbringing, many other students will seek out a different faith as their personal beliefs and morals shift. As a result, they may interpret familiar ideas and texts in new ways, ultimately seeking out a faith that better accommodates their evolving perspectives.

Theo DeRosa is a junior majoring in diplomacy and global politics and Russian, East European and Eurasian Studies. DeRosa and his three siblings were all raised Methodist, and DeRosa said his family was fairly involved in their local church during his childhood.

After being separated from what he once knew, he began looking for a new source of community. He found that his personal beliefs aligned more with those of the Catholic Church. Because of this, DeRosa made the decision to become Catholic.

“In a way, I don't think my conversion is a rejection of the faith in which I was raised,” DeRosa said. “I view it as the logical conclusion.”

When he first came to Miami, DeRosa was fairly involved with on-campus politics. He was an active member of Miami’s chapters of College Republicans and Students For Life, a pro-life organization.

“As I’ve grown a little bit older and spent some more time studying, I’m getting to a place where I find myself questioning my views a lot and moving in different directions on certain things,” DeRosa said. “I still consider myself a conservative, but I’ve also wanted to take more time to really understand that stuff on my own.”

DeRosa found himself questioning multiple aspects of his long-held political views — many of which were informed by the morals of his faith and family.

“That kind of opened up an interest in me into just studying different approaches to politics and trying to understand other sides of the issues,” DeRosa said. “It's very important for more effective governance.”

DeRosa’s family, which has maintained its Methodist beliefs, has some objection to their son’s conversion but has overall been supportive.

“I think they realize that I felt it’s something that I needed to do,” DeRosa said. “Even if they don't necessarily agree with everything, it's still within the Christian faith.”

To DeRosa, connections with family are incredibly important. He believes a child raised in a strong and supportive household will be equipped with strong values, beliefs and countless skills to succeed in life.

“As people as well, we need others that we’re close with, and from a very young age, family is usually the closest bond that we share,” DeRosa said. “I think that provides a very strong sense of belonging.”

DeRosa also emphasizes the importance of connections between people regardless of faith or political alignment. For him, bridging these gaps is an important step in making valuable and helpful change in the world.

“It's always better to focus on what people have in common before you get to what's different because that forms a really solid basis for understanding one another,” DeRosa said.

***

For both Krueger and DeRosa, investigating the beliefs they grew up with has been a major part of their college experience. Krueger said this growth has allowed them to understand aspects of themself that they were not allowed to talk about before. In the future, Krueger hopes to help people who feel like they once felt.

“I want to be welcoming to kids who don't have someone to relate to like when I was a kid,” Krueger said. “I'm not scared of presenting the way that I do because some kids are gonna go, ‘Hey, that's a cool person that I can relate to.’”

In converting to Catholicism, DeRosa said his new faith has allowed him to better understand his own values. DeRosa said he has already made many meaningful connections with others on the same journey. While many of the others converting are from vastly different backgrounds, he said this process has allowed them to connect over their newfound beliefs.

“There was a conference I once went to that was focused on the decline of community in America and the sense of belonging that we had for so long,” DeRosa said. “I think religion is one of the most important associations that people can have because when people put that at the center of their lives, that forms a foundation for communities and families.”

By questioning their previous ideas and finding new ones, both Krueger and DeRosa have been able to further develop their own personal identity, gain a greater understanding of their values, and feel like they are part of a judgement-free community.S

Climbing the Rock Wall of Self-Worth

Myjourney through classes and competitive rock climbing

By Abby Bammerlin

“Climber, climber, you may begin climbing now,” the announcer boomed into the gym.

I jumped up from my chair before the voice had finished. I had already tied into the rope, and it dragged along the floor as I turned to face the wall behind me. The rock wall was a 55-foot tall overhang, meaning it angled outward. I hated overhangs.

My shoes were three sizes smaller than my normal size, and they bent my feet into a claw shape. I walked up to the base of the climb on just the outside edges of my feet.

Before I got on the climb, I wanted to double-check that I remembered everything I’d been studying.

I mimed out each move to come. I pretended to climb without getting off the ground, just using my arms. I knew I looked silly to anyone new to the sport in the sea of people behind me, but my mind was focused on the climb and my checklist.

As my anxiety built, I noticed that my left toe wasn’t exactly where it should be, but I didn’t have time to fix it.

Are my hands chalked up? Yes, they’re chalked. Is it too much chalk? No, no. I need the extra right now.

I was about to compete in a sport climbing competition, which was always what my training gravitated toward. This discipline involves using ropes to climb walls between 4060 feet. Scaling sport walls is an art that relies on endurance and the ability of the climber to follow the path of climbing rocks, also called holds.

In competitions, the routes that exist on the wall are designed to make climbers fall. They get a total of five minutes to climb each wall. Each hold on the wall is assigned a single point. If an effort was made to continue on a route, but the climber falls, they can earn partial points. Once a climber falls, they can’t repeat the route or get back on it. Whoever earns the most points wins.

Illustrations by Erin McGovern, Photos provided by Abby Bammerlin

I was at the second day of the divisional competition. My division was made up of 12 states, but I was only competing against 10 climbers that day. Only six would move on to nationals. The points separating me from the person in sixth place could be counted on one hand.

The divisionals competition was split into two days. On the first day, we had two routes to climb, but on the second we had one.

Today, I would only get the chance to climb that single route.

With all this in mind, I turned to the clock and saw I had 4 minutes and 43 seconds left in my attempt. I took one more deep breath before signaling to my belayer, the man who would be holding the ropes at the bottom of the wall, that I was going to begin my ascent. The judge behind him raised the score sheet and nodded for me to go.

My hands were shaking as I lifted them to the first hold of the climb. I was already off to a bad start. ***

When people ask me how I got into climbing, I usually tell them all the same thing.

“When I was nine, I wanted to have a birthday party somewhere really cool.”

While this was the reason I discovered climbing, that’s not really why I started climbing five days a week, 15 hours a week and 52 weeks out of the year for 10 years.

The real reason I got into climbing was because I’m a younger sibling. I needed to find a way to differentiate myself from my brother, Patrick.

Patrick is three years older than me. Growing up, we had all the same teachers, played the same sports and both joined scouts. I wore his hand-me-downs and even started playing tenor saxophone because he played it.

I simultaneously idolized him and found him insufferable. He was wicked smart and aced any test without studying. He was crazy quick on the football field but was even quicker when he was chasing me because I stole something from his room. He was the model scout, camping whenever he could and going on outdoor trips all over the country.

But I chewed with my mouth open, which annoyed him, and he wouldn’t let me play his video games, so we fought. A lot. Classic sibling stuff.

The fighting and bickering made me more competitive. The constant “Oh, so you’re Patrick’s little sister?” fueled me to stand out from him.

So I used the one thing I had on him: I wasn’t afraid of heights.

I joined the Cincinnati Slopers, a team based out of RockQuest Climbing Center, when I was 10 years old. We had two seasons; August to January was bouldering, which is a more endurance-based form of climbing, and January to June was sport climbing.

Practices lasted three hours and were three times a week, but there was an unwritten rule that team members should climb any time they could. Most people climbed six times a week, but I was only able to convince my parents to take me for five.

For the first few years, it was great. I loved competing as an individual rather than a team, and I made it past local and regional competitions to the first day of divisionals every year. My dream was nationals.

In elementary school, I got to tell all my friends about rock climbing. They would gush about how lucky I was, and for a minute, I wasn’t anyone’s sister.

But as I got older, it wasn’t cool to play a sport anymore — it was just an expectation. Everyone around me started picking a sport that they would eventually devote themselves to for the next six years. ***

I turned my hip into the wall to reach the next hold. I delicately placed the tip of my shoe on a foot chip that was no wider than a pinkie finger. I pushed off that leg to reach up with my right hand, grabbing the next hold. I was able to rest my hands on this hold.

OK, this has been pretty manageable so far. No one would have fallen on this part of the climb yet. The hardest part is still coming.

I took that time to look at the rest of the route. The overhanging angle of the wall forced me to crane my neck to see. As I did, I caught a glimpse of the crowd behind me. There had to be hundreds of parents, coaches and other climbers watching me. While there were others climbing around me, my route was in the center of the gym.

I wonder if they caught that I messed up my hand se quence at the bottom. Can they see that my leg is shaking right now?

In the next section of the route, I would be given a huge hold to rest on, but the route moved laterally to the right. Getting there would require me to jump from those larger holds to another cluster of holds, just 8 feet away.

Really? A jump in the middle of a sport route?

I was never a very powerful climber. I relied mostly on technique and strategic body positioning. This was going to be a challenge.

***

As I entered middle and high school, I noticed that the classrooms started to look different. Students weren’t sitting at circular tables shared by five or six of their best friends. Instead, they were in isolated desks with 2 feet of space between each of them. Teachers didn’t assign fun worksheets or have themed days based on lessons; they just stood in front of the classroom and lectured. Tests became more and more important.

I could tell that the other students started to feel the shifts too. In high school, talk of college became even more prominent. These discussions weren’t about just any college either. It had to be the best one — the one that focused on research, the one ranked the highest in a particular field, the hardest one to get into.

Suddenly, classes turned into just a number in our GPAs. If I failed a test, there wasn’t time to analyze every question or understand what the correct answer was. We just moved on. An A meant I was safe, a B meant anxiety and anything lower was failure. Only the highest score was worth praising.

“You don’t know how to do derivatives?”

How come you can’t do this move on that climb?

“How’d you do on that last test?”

What did you place at that competition?

“Did you see the school rankings were out?”

How good at climbing are you really?

The questions about high school and climbing were dif ferent, but they were asked with the same intent.

How can I quantify my abilities over yours? Are you better than me? Did you get a higher score? Are you more deserving than I am?

Going to school was anxiety-inducing. Every report card was another confirmation of my inability to understand as quickly or as easily as everyone around me.

I asked myself how I would be able to do another four years of this in college, where the stakes were so much higher. Failing at college means failing to get a good job, which means failing at having a stable income, which means no travel, house or car. Failing now meant failing for the rest of my life. There were no redos or second tries.

Everything was all or nothing, and there was no end in sight. ***

I reached the large holds right before the jump. They were right next to each other, so I grabbed the one farthest to the right, skipping the leftmost one. I looked to my right and locked my eyes onto the next few holds I would have to jump to.

I took a deep breath. After building a little momentum in my feet, I pushed myself to the next two holds. I reached my right hand out and made contact with the first hold, but my foot missed its target.

Just like that, I was falling.

“OH!” the crowd exclaimed below me.

I was quickly lowered to the ground, where the judge met me to go over my score. He pointed to the hold I had rested on before the jump.

“That hold is bridge scored, so you won’t get any points for it,” he said.

“Uh, what?” I asked, my legs still shaking. “Wait, what's bridge scoring?”

“You skipped the hold to the left and only grabbed the hold to the right,” he said. “If you don’t touch both of the holds, then you don’t get points for either.”

I stared at him.

I had competed for six years at that point and had never heard of “bridge scoring,” but I wasn’t in a position to argue. I signed the card to accept the score and walked off into the crowd, hoping I could just melt away in the sea of faces.

Just a few hours later, official scores and standings for my category were posted. I squeezed through the horde of parents, coaches and climbers to find my name.

I was in seventh. My heart dropped to my stomach. It was just one spot away from nationals. I looked at the individual scores and felt tears welling up.

54 THE MIAMI STUDENT MAGAZINE, SPRING 2023

The difference between me and the next highest score?

A single point.

One point. One hold. One ridiculous scoring technicality. That’s all that kept me from going to nationals.

It wasn’t just disappointing. It was infuriating. The score didn’t take into account how long I had trained, my strengths or weaknesses, how I felt the day of the competition, the injuries I was working through or really anything else. Sport climbing only provides competitors with one harshly scored chance.

I see the irony now. It’s exactly how I felt in school.

One test determines a score that can keep you from going to your dream college. A single exam can determine your grade in a semester-long course. One presentation can fail you out of your major. There are no redos or chances for constructive criticism. In some cases, you don’t even get to know what you did wrong. You just have to accept it and move on.

That day, I quit climbing. But I couldn’t exactly quit school. I felt trapped and helpless. ***

About a year after the competition, I was sitting in my room listening to music. I was an angsty teenager.

My dad came in and sat next to me on the floor. He asked me about school and some of my friends, and I shrugged it off. A cool silence fell over our conversation.

“Are you ever going to climb again?” he asked.

I hesitated, surprised at the question.

“Yeah, yeah of course,” I said.

I felt tears streaming down my face and looked away from him with embarrassment. Now, I’ve never asked, but I think he knew exactly what I was feeling at that moment. The thought of going back into that rat-race of competitions made me feel nauseous, but the feeling of needing to be the best at something pushed my answer out. After a moment, he offered up a possible solution.

“Let’s do it together,” he said.

That very next week, we climbed together. It was the first time I had been back in over a year, and it was rough. All the strength I once had was pretty much gone. My body felt heavy and clumsy where it once felt light and delicate. I knew I wasn’t fit to compete anymore.

So where did that leave me? A washed-up athlete at 17?

I wasn’t climbing as skillfully as I once had. I felt embarrassed to be seen climbing by my old teammates or coaches. But I climbed anyway. My dad cheered me along, and I laughed at myself barely being able to climb what would have been just a warm-up for me before.

After a few weeks, the clumsiness faded back into the carefully choreographed dance that made me fall in love with rock climbing in the first place. I’d fall off a hard climb and get right back on, unafraid. I even went rock climbing outside for the first time just for fun, which never would have been allowed during competition for fear of injury.

I sort of competed with myself to climb more challenging rocks outside. Slowly, I made some new friends who didn’t ask, “How hard do you climb?” but, “How did you get that move?”

Over the next few years, I became more than a number, more than a position on a podium, more than a younger sibling. I began seeing myself as an individual with strengths, weaknesses and everything in between.

I was no longer driven by my fear of not being the best anymore. What I felt was personal ambition. ***

When I came to Miami University, I arrived with the same ambitious mindset I had as a high schooler. I was going to be the best: the best writer, political scientist, journalist and student. I had my four-year plan for what classes I needed to take and what internships I should have to guarantee the best job.

College will let you plan out your entire life if you allow it to. Or you can open a different door.

When I was a first-year, I was incredibly lucky to have professors who opened that door for me. They encouraged me to ignore my grades. They asked me to produce my best work and defend it against their critiques. They asked me to take care of myself and my mental health over completing any assignments. They asked me to consider the material and form my own opinions instead of parroting their own or trying to appease them.

Those professors gave me the gift of being able to fall and get back up to try again and again and a hundred more times until I not only understood the material, but I could also argue and defend it.

After that first year, I could have gone right back into that “hunker down and focus on school” mindset, but I didn’t. I carried what I learned from my first year through all four years at Miami. I don’t put much value into my grades or how they compare to others.

I didn’t get an internship after my first year, and I didn’t take all the classes on my list. I studied abroad and traveled all over the world, something that was definitely not in my initial four-year plan. But it made me happy, and I learned so much more about the world than any class could have taught me.

Putting my self-worth into my falls only allowed me to see a small fraction of the journey. The true measure of a person is their ability to take that fall for what it is and continue pushing on and learning.

It wasn’t until college that I finally connected the dots between climbing and my own journey in education. I’m not addicted to the competition. I’m addicted to the feeling of being driven toward a goal.

I’ll continue being a lifelong learner, just as I’ll continue climbing until my body falls apart. To make it even better, I’m no longer doing it to get an A or a medal on any podium but because I genuinely love it, even when I come in last place. S

I was no longer driven by my fear of not being the best anymore. What I felt was personal ambition.

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