Living a trans experience
The path to finding support on campus
Do Starships dream of electric sheep?
Follow the lifecycle of campus robots
Living a trans experience
The path to finding support on campus
Do Starships dream of electric sheep?
Follow the lifecycle of campus robots
Jonah Graham, Editor-in-Chief
Brisa Karow, Managing Editor
Lian Muneno, Director of Digital Content
Rose Baillie, Copy Editor
Tess Bandstra, Director of Print Design
Rose Baillie
Tess Bandstra
Noah Butler
Chloe Duran
Madison Easton
Ava Hiniker
Brisa Karow
Chloe Legay
Zachary Markewicz
Grace Meinema
Jazmyn Muhammad
Makayla O’Bannon
Katie Squires
Corey Stakley
Lexi Wight
Madison Easton
Nathan Ecker
Beau Foy
Jonah Graham
Bennie Hart
Landon Johnson
Chloe Legay
Jason Maggio
Sarah Marshall
Victoria Medina
Yanissa Romo
Sierra Schafer
Alexis Beaman
Courtney Cook
Rebecca Heizelman
Calleigh Juday
Hadley Lopez
Lennon Otero-Strong
Haleigh Williams
Northern Arizona University sits at the base of the San Francisco Peaks, on homelands sacred to Native Americans throughout the region. We honor their past, present and future generations, who have lived here for millennia and will forever call this place home.
I’ve done some digging among The Lumberjack graduates and the general consensus appears to be that there has been a sprinkle of an idea to start a magazine for at least half a decade. One of my goals coming into this semester as Editor-in-Chief was to transform this dream of a magazine into a reality.
I am extremely grateful to say after months of hard work, hours of meetings, plenty of phone calls and a team who never gave up, we have accomplished our goal and hope you enjoy every page.
As you flip through, please pay special attention to each story, photo and illustration. The staff of 30-plus students carefully curated their content to correlate with the theme of behind-thescenes.
Inside The Lumberjack’s magazine, you will find a feature on NAU’s very own Julie Baldwin who founded our Center for Health Equity Research, an investigative deep-dive into our Starship colonizers and a spotlight on the unsung heroes of the J. Lawrence Walkup Skydome.
For each story, a team of writers, photographers and illustrators were assembled to complete the process. Although similar to our regularly scheduled production, we took our collaborative efforts to a new level. Each team met together multiple times throughout magazine production — from figuring out the story angle to what visuals would help convey the narrative best and the color palette to fit their page design.
We started with big goals that we had to cut back on, due to time and resources. Some stories needed to be changed, funding strategies required rethinking and many discussions regarding what we wanted to accomplish with this magazine bounced from one idea to the next.
Overall, we persevered. We were able to find the direction of our magazine, confirm stories and work as a team to solve problems.
To those who donated to us through JacksFunder, your generous contributions touched our hearts. We started the campaign with little hope of financial success and simply wanting people to become aware of the magazine. In a matter of 24 hours, we received a shocking number of donations in quantities beyond our expectations. On behalf of the whole staff and student journalists everywhere, thank you.
Lastly, this magazine would not have been created without the help of Lian Muneno, our director of digital content, and Brisa Karow, our managing editor. These two individuals are the pillars of not only this very magazine but of The Lumberjack staff. Each oversees their respective halves of production and visuals, in which they create a seamless process that allows our students to have their work published. As someone who has had their work published, I was unaware of the incredible effort it takes. This past semester I have gotten a behind-the-scenes look at the process and will be forever grateful freshman year Jonah got his photos published and hundreds of other graduates who have come through the School of Communication have as well. Thank you for your continued support and we hope you enjoy our magazine.
Phone: (928) 523-4921
Bree Burkitt, Faculty Adviser
Katherine Locke, Reporter Adviser
Rory Faust, Sports Adviser
Fax: (928) 523-9313
lumberjack@nau.edu
P.O. Box 6000
Flagstaff, AZ 86011
For every show-stopping performance or new song, there is just as much of a face to the technician who manipulated the sound and colors of the project as there is to the performer or musician.
When experiencing the full effects of a performance, the audience’s attention is typically on the final product. But what about the volume of background noise at a theater production, the amplification of the bass on a favorite track or the light shining on a presenter?
Audio engineers, light technicians and stage managers work behind the scenes, spending countless hours setting up creative works.
Production establishments in Flagstaff dedicate their time and energy to local performances and events to creatively enhance every detail of a live show.
Long days, sleepless nights and a passion for performance design all describe the life of an audio, video and lighting (AVL) technician at Peaks Audio Productions — the turnkey, fullservice audio and visual production company based in Flagstaff.
Peaks engineers, technicians and designers set up for events such as political campaigns, music festivals or corporate seminars.
Jason Moeller formed Peaks in 2003, operating out of a shed in his backyard. He was first exposed to sound gear while
playing as a drummer in bands. Through this experience, he saw a demand for sound design and embraced the art on a small scale. Peaks then became a fully incorporated business in 2006.
Moeller has a passion for the industry despite its demanding nature and believes most AVL technicians feel the same.
“This industry is brutal in the sense that it requires a lot from you,” Moeller said. “You have to show up early, leave late and you have to do that day after day after day, and you have to find some sort of pleasure or enjoyment out of that [or] you won’t survive in the industry.”
One of his favorite aspects of performance production is he never has to do the same thing twice. Each show or event has unique demands that require technicians to apply a specialized setup.
AVL technicians and engineers spend countless hours, weeks and months preparing for an event and executing their production plan. After communicating with the client, the process involves determining which equipment will be used during the performance.
The planning process requires calculations, like making sure the equipment hanging overhead is not too heavy, determining how much power they need, drafting the stage layout and getting equipment ready for the event.
Grace Kennedy started working at Peaks in 2021. Her primary role is operating lighting and video, but she said all technicians do a little of everything.
While Peaks has a warehouse full of equipment it brings on sets, they also have to account for any equipment that venues or performers already have and want to use.
“Sometimes shows come in with some of their own equipment, so that is always the aesthetic of their show,” Kennedy said. “Our job is to complement that and add on to whatever they have or use our equipment to match the aesthetic they want.”
On top of calculations, concerts require preparing lighting setup, sound design, video displays and equipment programming, so every element is ready for production.
Another element is network configuration. Technician Mike Fish who specializes in audio explained it is connecting the different aspects of performance design.
There are typically two network cables connecting the front of the house — the area where the audience is located — to the stage, and there is a network for audio, video and lighting waves to ride on.
“It’s pretty essential to understand how your network is configured …” Fish said. “You just want all of your stuff to talk to the network and interface with the network properly.”
AVL technicians must also consider the size of a venue to determine how much gear can fit. Once the technology is programmed for the event, they lay it out to make a “tape-truck pack” — a taped-out area in Peaks’ warehouse the size of the truck they will load the equipment into. During this process, they may realize they need a different-sized vehicle and have to adjust their layout before loading up the truck pack.
Depending on the type of event, AVL workers may need to be on their toes running the show, Kennedy said. Other times, they may supply the programmed equipment and set everything up, while companies or bands have their technicians run the equipment.
“Usually, when you just get to the gig, it’s manual labor if you did it right,” Fish said.
Despite the demanding aspects of the work, many technicians feel those types of events are the most exciting.
“I’d say festivals are probably my favorite because you’re just slinging bands all day long,” Fish said. “You always get something new, and you’re always on your toes. You don’t have time to think about how long you’ve been there, and then, all of a sudden, it’s over, and you’re like, ‘Ah, I just did a week’s worth of work in 14 hours.’”
During large-scale performance weeks, technicians hardly sleep.
Summertime is their busy season and Kennedy said they often work 10 events a week. Mueller said this involves late nights and early mornings.
“People tend to come into production and either leave within a month or keep it as a career forever,” Kennedy said. “It’s a love-it-or-hateit job. So, if you like going home every night, then it’s not going to be a lot of fun. But, if you’re in it for the long nights and hard work, then it’s definitely worth it.”
Regardless of one’s production design skill level, Mueller said he consistently looks for technician employees with a committed mindset.
“If you did it perfectly and know how to do all the technical stuff and run all the boards, it’s much more important to have the personality and the dedication to actually commit to it,” Mueller said.
The newly founded audio production company Triple A Sound Solutions was started by three “A’s” — Alec Tippett, Andrew Grosse and Andrew Baker. The trio opened their company last August, operating out of The Hive, and offers an immersive recording studio, band rehearsal space and sound setup for live events.
Since all three sound designers are passionate musicians, they focus on recording.
There are multiple pathways to learning sound design and production. However, Baker, Tippett and Grosse are self-taught audio engineers who learned by practicing and observing other audio technicians record and make music.
“Being in studios and asking questions to the engineers who are working, and looking at videos, I feel like just being in the studio taught me the most,” Tippett said.
Baker compared audio engineering to photography — it is about striking a balance between technique and creativity to produce the desired outcome. Finding this symmetry can be a complicated and tireless process, managing the audio elements at play, like vocal, bass and drum levels.
Audio engineering is one of the most difficult jobs Grosse has had because of the endless choices that come with creating a cohesive sound. This applies to setting up live events and recording musical tracks.
“You can write music together … put things together and put a little style and taste into what you’re doing and creating, but once you get into doing the recording part of it, your options are still endless in regards to
A sound engineer changes levels on a mixing board inside the Peaks Audio Productions warehouse, Feb. 29.how things can sound,” Grosse said.
When it comes to recording and producing songs, each “A” works on individual projects with artists, collaborating now and then.
Navigating a recording session is nuanced, as each artist has expectations and a vision for how they want their project completed. Some look for more direction from Triple A.
“A lot of people will ask you or will insinuate and just assume that you’re going to steer everything and do everything,” Grosse said. “But then, there’s other people who work differently, like they already have a knowledge of recording and want to be very, very detailed about things. So, you have to be respectful of different people and how they want to work.”
Solo musicians and bands hire the trio for different recording
methods. Some artists come in to record one song, while others are there to put out an EP — a series of songs that is shorter than an album. Additionally, artists may want to track, or record their vocals and instruments, at Triple A’s studio but mix the song themselves. The most basic recording elements are tracking, editing, mixing and mastering.
To prepare for a recording session, the audio engineers use a preconsultation method, where they ask artists questions, like preferred song length and how hands-on an artist wants to be. Tippett said this aspect of their process is so they can educate their clients and meet their recording needs.
Triple A has intake forms for artists to fill out prior to band rehearsals, recording sessions and live events.
“We’ve tried to map it out how things go down to the ‘T,’” Grosse
Recording audio is another significant part of production companies’ role in the music industry. This process is complex, with a few main elements integral to understanding all that goes into producing music.
Tracking involves recording individual instruments. Getting tracks without background noise is crucial to ensuring the final product is as clear and high-quality as possible. Once all instruments and vocals are recorded, producers edit each track.
Editing enhances the quality and timing of every element and can sometimes include rerecording tracks that have flaws or distracting noises. After editing, producers will mix the tracks in whichever way sounds best. This includes balancing audio levels and changing a track’s tone to blending elements and creating a harmonious sound.
Mastering includes all other processes that go into making sure audio is ready for listeners. When recording an album, producers will master each song to ensure they are all the same volume and any mistakes are eliminated.
Andrew Baker (left), Alec Tippett (middle) and Andrew Grosse (right) of Triple A Sound Solutions pose for a portrait at The Hive, March 7. Chloe Legaysaid. “Only, mostly understanding even if you have the best laid-out plan with a timeline, all that stuff, even still some things could just go wrong. So, the more you plot everything out 100 percent and everybody’s on the same page … the session is going to go way smoother.”
Since starting Triple A, Baker, Grosse and Tippett have audio engineered for a handful of live events.
Grosse said the venue can also dictate how the setup goes. If the establishment is organized and has equipment, it can make the process more seamless.
“It’s a lot of on-the-fly maneuvering,” Baker said. “… It’s always pretty exciting when you’ve got the faders under your fingers and roll with the band and the music and accentuate what needs to be accentuated, and it’s fun … and there’s a million ways to make it sound good or bad. You have so much creative control in that aspect.”
On stage, determining how sound is distributed to speakers is a balancing act. Then, there is the added pressure of wanting to make the musician or band happy.
“You can ask them to do their art different or you can deal with the situation and usually, you just have to deal with the situation and make it and try to get those vocals on top of that guitar — make sure the bass is punching through those drums,” Baker said.
Behind their motivation for starting Triple A Sound Solutions, the trio reflected on their experience as musicians and how they did not always have the opportunity to record a performance, new song or jam session.
Tippet, Baker and Grosse said they want their studio to serve as a place where people can archive their musical work.
“I hope that we can figure out a way to encourage people, or create an archive of our own, or some kind of resource to hold all that stuff and archive it for people so they can come back and be like, ‘Ah man, I misplaced my band’s mixes from 10 years ago,’” Tippett said. “To me, that’s also our job, to responsibly archive.”
The trio aims to serve Flagstaff’s music community and has visions to expand their location and grow their studio. Helping others do what they love is the joy of their job, Baker said.
Whether making records for local musicians, helping a band rehearse for their next gig or setting up a show at a Flagstaff venue, Triple A Sound Solutions hopes to end up with a plethora of projects while sharing their love of music with others.
From sound design and light programming to stage managing and choreographing, putting on an NAU Department of Theatre performance is an all-hands-on-deck situation — even if it stays behind the curtain.
Although actors are a show’s stars, a whole set of staff and students run every other angle of the performance to enhance the audience’s experience. The work put into production starts as early as a semester in advance.
Junior William Rosen is the theater department’s lighting programmer.
“In lighting, we take on this idea of, ‘If we aren’t being noticed, then our jobs are being done correctly,’” Rosen said. “But one thing I do wish audience members knew was how long it actually took to get all of this setup.”
Production setup looks different for each role, but one aspect many staff members have in common is the amount of time and energy put toward connecting the audience and actors in a world of performance during the show.
This synergy includes audio design, in which staff members ensure the performers’ sound reaches the back of the room. This includes correct cues and ensuring all elements of production are accurate for the audience to fully enjoy.
Junior theater major Connor Carreon is the stage manager for the Department of Theatre. Carreon began stage managing in high school and from there, never left the world of theater.
“I think people forget that in order for you to see the show on opening night, or any other night, none of that would be there without this work, and it would be actors in the middle of the stage not knowing what to do,” Carreon said.
The Department of Theatre’s most recent show was “Rent,” which required a different approach for sound designers.
Common sound effects or transitions into songs rarely get acknowledgment from the audience because of the work put into lining them up perfectly. Staff members working on this element have figured
Junior William Rosen’s computer displays the lights program for the stage in the Performing and Fine Arts building, March 29. Yanissa Romoout precise timing with ear training to enhance the show.
Ben Bolke, the assistant sound designer, is a junior in the Department of Theatre and recently worked on a musical’s sound design for the first time.
“When you are trying to figure out how to make a world feel alive, sure, the visual aspects are very important, but I think what you hear really defines an environment as well, and you really need to think about that when you are a sound designer,” Bolke said.
Although audience members cannot see it — without everyone working behind the scenes — there would be no one to even direct them to their seats to watch the show.
“I think just knowing the numerous amount of people that it takes for you to see a show at the end — movie, TV, theater, play, musical —and how much work goes into the final product you see is important,” Carreon said.
Production takes countless hours of work and allows little time for sleep. The work’s demand is not for everyone, but for those who do go into the field, they know how to pull in the audience or crowd to leave reality for the few hours a performance is put on.
All crew members for a performance take on a role that is outside of their job description. They help each other put on the best show possible.
“It’s just so much work to do on everyone’s part,” Bolke said. “Dividing the work up is so much easier, and we cannot run a show with at least dozens of people to move around all the different parts. It’s not like, ‘Oh, you’re in charge of this so you do everything.’ It’s going to be, ‘I’m going to do what I can and then divvy up the work to make sure the show runs.’”
When a production is put on, the show and work go beyond what is visible on stage.
“We’re but the shadows in your peripheral,” Rosen said.
Audience members join performers in the showtime experience, which is in part credited to sound designers, light programmers, stage managers and all other roles the naked eye does not see.
The time, energy and resources that go into producing high-quality audio for events often go unnoticed. Working hours differ from week to week, depending on the number and sizes of events. The statistics below represent the average amount of work in a single week of audio production.
2-4 hours creating truck packs during event planning. Complex events can take weeks for employees to determine what equipment is needed.
2-3 employees work small events
14-15 employees work major events
4-6 hours to set up
2-3 hours to tear down, assuming everything goes according to plan.
40-80 hours worked per week during the on-season
2 hours to plan and prepare for a show
3 employees work a small event
6 hours to run an event, including set up and break down time
40 hours of full-time work per week
9 students working on the crew in lighting and sound
4-6 weeks of shop time to set up before rehearsals
1 week of shop time to tear down the set.
3-6 hours spent on lighting and sound per week in addition to rehearsals
A recording microphone sits above an organ at Triple A Sound Solutions’ recording studio and live music venue, The Hive, March 7. Chloe Legay Story by Chloe Duran and Jazmyn Muhammad Photos by Beau Foy Illustrations by Alexis Beaman Louie walks to the side of the Findlay Toyota Court during a women’s basketball game at the J. Lawrence Walkup Skydome, March 3.Many people over the years have embodied NAU’s mascot, Louie the Lumberjack. They represent the students and the school’s athletic spirit. However, all remain anonymous, and their stories are often left unheard.
The Lumberjack opted not to reveal the identity of Louie as well as members of their team.
NAU Athletics employs multiple Louie’s because the mascot appears at many university events. One Louie is a junior social work major. He chose to apply for the position because he always liked mascots and how they bring joy and high-spirited feelings to a crowd.
“You never know what people are going through, so for me to help brighten up people’s days and lighten smiles means a lot,” he said.
Along with acting as the face of NAU, Louie attends football, basketball and all other university sporting events. They also travel annually to Big Sky Conference tournaments. Throughout the school year, Louie appears at non-sporting events, such as the President’s Welcome Back Barbecue, holiday parties and the NAU Letters. On top of that, they help create social media content for NAU Athletics.
Per NAU Athletics standards, applicants should be no shorter than 5 feet 6 inches and no taller than just over 6 feet. While no experience is necessary, there is one requirement in a mascot: high energy.
Game days demand Louie’s animated personality to engage the crowd and cheer on players. The mascot goes out 10 minutes before game time to greet fans, families and students as they enter the J. Lawrence Walkup Skydome.
“You always want to remember to be friendly and courteous of all those you’re surrounded by, and most importantly, Louie should never speak,” Louie said.
They do not sign a nondisclosure agreement, but the expectation is to maintain anonymity, Demmon said.
“We don’t have anything in writing,” she said. “The biggest thing is telling them that Louie’s identity needs to be a secret, and they are really good at understanding that. It’s not foolproof, but keeping it a secret from NAU’s fans and student body is the priority.”
Demmon said each Louie brings different traits to the mascot. Since 2014, there have been 40 Louies — each differing from the next.
“It is interesting to see each student embody the personality of Louie the Lumberjack,” Demmon said.
A Louie from 2022, who is a learning specialist for the Academic Success Center, said she thought it would be fun to have a secret identity and playing the mascot would help her become more involved in school.
“I’ve gotten to interact with the fans, people I wouldn’t have interacted with otherwise,” the ‘22 Louie said.
The Louie found it difficult to fulfill expectations required by NAU Athletics.
“It definitely was intimidating just because you’re putting yourself out there,” the ‘22 Louie said. “You have to be super energetic. People are judging who you are. It was a little bit scary when I felt I was not bringing enough energy and not fulfilling the role of a Lumberjack.”
NAU Athletics hires four to five students to work as Louie each year, but this can fluctuate depending on whether employees can meet the basic job requirements and determine if the role is working for them.
Despite employing multiple Louie’s at a time, NAU only has one suit.
Samantha Demmon, a supervisor for the Louie mascot program, said anonymity has always been part of the job. Without it, the fun of a mascot would not exist.Louie’s suit has changed five times since 1985 — the year of the first mascot — with altered outfits, oversized costume heads and different facial expressions. Louie’s current physical appearance has not changed since 2014. They wear a neutral facial expression, with a blue beanie, black boots, a yellow shirt and blue pants held up by suspenders.
While on the job, the mascot has a handler. The position is offered through NAU Athletics to oversee the mascot and ensure the events they participate in run smoothly. The handler will stand near Louie during games and give them directions throughout.
“If I wasn’t in the suit, I was a handler helping Louie walk around,” the former Louie said.
The job can be time consuming, and she later left it to spend her college experience differently.
“It was never emotionally exhausting,” she said. “It was just really difficult to balance.”
Students work two to three days a week for NAU Athletics with varying hours depending on the sports season and events schedule. Demmon said the students behind Louie are expected to be present for a
job whenever they are needed.
Despite the challenges of juggling the job while being a student, the ‘22 Louie said she was happy she had the opportunity. For the current Louie, this year is his first year working for NAU Athletics.
“If you can take the time to care for yourself and put school as your number one priority, you tend to avoid any serious issues,” the current Louie said. “But I will say, time management is a very important factor in this position.”
Louie represents the athletics department, the students, and the Lumberjack spirit. According to NAU, the Lumberjack spirit is all about keeping 120-year-old traditions alive and building new traditions for future Lumberjacks.
“Overall, it was a really cool experience,” the former Louie said. “It was super fun. You get to be the one to make Louie interesting and worth people’s time.”
The mascot is considered an old man with a strong personality on the outside, staying sweet and respectful on the inside, the current Louie said. Navigating the axe-holding persona comes with time and practice.
“You get to be the one to make Louie interesting and worth people’s time.”
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A recent Louie
Meeting members of the transgender community is not uncommon when attending a large public university like NAU now that roughly 5% of young adults are identifying as transgender or nonbinary while in college.
Many who choose to come out as trans do it in their late high school years or while they are in higher education. According to the Human Rights Campaign, they may better understand the words used to describe how they feel and be more comfortable once they are older or have moved away from home.
Coming out as nonbinary or trans is not an easy feat when one does not have the right support or resources around them, which leads to prolonging coming out or not doing it at all.
Nonbinary NAU senior CJ Birkmeyer said the university had trans resources that were not available to them when they were younger and wanted to explore their gender.
“I felt this way in high school, but at the time, I did not have the resources and support that NAU has been able to provide me,” Birkmeyer said. “I did not have access to the mental and trans healthcare that I needed.”
Birkmeyer came out their sophomore year of college and began their transition with Campus Health Services Trans* Healthcare, which includes counseling, support groups and hormone replacement therapy (HRT).
A lot goes into considering HRT, with
Photos by Bennie Hart and Landon Johnson Illustrations by Lennon Otero-strongcopious amounts of paperwork that can be difficult to understand and the pros and cons one has to consider before deciding if it is right for them. This flood of information is not to scare away people who want to transition but to inform them of the physical and mental changes HRT causes, some of which are permanent.
According to PinkNews, an LGBTQ+ publication, HRT can be lifesaving for many who choose to pursue it and often changes lives for the better. This is because it allows one to feel more confident and have better mental health in general.
Birkmeyer said using Campus Health Services to start their transition was fairly straightforward.
“I had to sign quite a few consent forms to make sure I understood what was going to happen and what I was doing, but not in a way where I felt that I was being deterred from getting to transition,” Birkmeyer said.
While not every person who comes out as trans plans to medically transition for one reason or another, many people feel it is necessary to do so for their health and well-being.
“I can breathe much easier now and finally got a sense of real independence within myself and coming out,” Birkmeyer said.
That was not an option for NAU alum Mars Wright. He came out the last semester of his senior year in 2017, and there were no resources on campus to aid his transition.
“If there were any resources regarding transitioning, they were impossible to find,” Wright said.
Wright was the director of communications for the Associated Students for Intersectional Feminism (ASIF) and was involved in NAU’s drag scene. When he came out, he had a hard time finding trans resources at NAU.
“Thinking back, I do not even think there was anything specifically for trans people, not a support group, resource or anything,” Wright said. “We had the LGBT resource center, but I did not see any ‘T’ happening.”
Due to transphobia, transitioning openly can lead to harassment, cyber-bullying and discrimination. While being trans is more common than a few decades ago, some people are still not open-minded about the LGBTQ+ community. This can make many trans people feel unsafe for identifying differently.
While he did not experience intense discrimination, Wright felt he was not welcomed warmly by other students and faculty when he started to dress more androgynous and cut his hair short.
Often, people who present more androgynous or masculine feel safer in potentially hostile situations, like work
“WE HAD THE LGBT RESOURCE CENTER, BUT I DID NOT SEE ANY ‘T’ HAPPENING.”
– Mars Wright, NAU alum on a lack of NAUCourtesy photo
environments, bathrooms or walking home alone.
Those who present more feminine — regardless of whether they are trans — feel more vulnerable in public situations.
Kelly Castleman, a nonbinary alum who works as the senior event coordinator for SUN Entertainment, has first-hand experience with being followed on campus. They said these occurrences did not happen as frequently when they presented as masculine. On days when
they would dress and present more feminine, and others perceived them as female, there were moments when they felt targeted and got followed home on campus several times.
A prevalent experience for transgender people is being misunderstood and discriminated against when they are seen differently by others who may not identify as transgender.
“It was a sigh of relief when I was able to meet other queer people because they had a
different level of understanding that others did not,” Castleman said.
Castleman has worked on several projects with NAU’s Office of Inclusion: Multicultural and LGBTQIA Student Services (IMQ) in their current position.
The IMQ is a hub of resources for trans and queer students, offering ways to change names on campus or health and wellness guides for trans people. It is also a popular place to meet other queer and trans-identifying students.
Assistant Director of the IMQ Bryan Bove has worked in the office since last year and helps get transgender resources to many students.
“The IMQ makes NAU more welcoming and is an invaluable space on campus for the LGBTQ+ community,” Bove said. “My colleagues and I work everyday to connect students to the resources and services they need to ensure they have the best possible experience they can.”
This is a space for students to find support
in exploring their identities and feeling comfortable in their own skin, Bove said. Within the IMQ, they can find a family.
“When students feel alone, or they do not have anyone to turn to, we are there for them,” Bove said.
Birkmeyer found essential resources and a place where they felt valued by others.
“It felt like a more welcoming place to be accepted by others in the community and those I knew,” Birkmeyer said.
The sense of community Castleman found within the IMQ was life changing, they said, because they finally had somewhere safe to talk with others about their experiences and feelings in a place new to them.
With the trans community and resources for them continuing to grow on campus, this can show others that NAU holds opportunities for those who are questioning their identity.
The medical field, in many ways, is about making a difference. A surgeon saves the life of someone who might not have survived otherwise. A physician prescribes medication to help people get through the day with the thousands of physical illnesses they can suffer from.
But illness does not always strike at random. The same health problems often affect people of similar demographics for various social, structural and economic reasons. When these populations repeatedly require treatment for the same issues, health professionals are left to treat an endless and growing stream of preventable maladies.
That is where NAU’s Julie Baldwin comes in. Baldwin is the director of NAU’s Center for Health Equity Research (CHER) and has been in the public health field for over three decades.
With health equity, everyone has a fair and just opportunity to attain their highest level of health. Public health experts like Baldwin aim to bring about health equity through social programs and research.
“It’s like working upstream rather than downstream,” Baldwin said. “We use that analogy a lot in public health. We talk about addressing issues upstream, which is getting back at social, structural, all those other determinants of health.”
Health equity differs from health equality because the former provides different levels of support depending on one’s situation, with the goal of everyone having the same treatment and care based on need.
While much of her professional career has been in the health equity field, Baldwin initially pictured herself going to medical school. However, in college she was exposed to public health by colleagues and never looked back.
“When I actually got into graduate school in public health, I had lots of opportunities where we were working directly in communities, and I think that was when it just really became so clear to me that, yes, these disparities
The Center for Health Equity Research team pose on the steps at the Applied Research and Development building, March 28. Jonah GrahamWhile many know Julie Baldwin for her contributions to NAU in Health Sciences, fewer know that she also has a passion for hiking and the outdoors.
With her busy schedule, hiking is one activity Baldwin does to relieve her stress and calm her mind. As her children were growing up, Baldwin and her family regularly took road trips in their minivan to hike and camp at national parks. Now, Baldwin’s three children are grown and spread across the country, in California, Virginia and New Mexico. As emptynesters, Baldwin and her husband, William, now hike with their dog, Enzo, a 4-year-old rescue pup from Tuba City, Arizona.
Baldwin hikes nearby trails at least a few times a week, but her favorite is the Grand Canyon, where she goes with her husband a couple times a year.
She went to the Grand Canyon for the first time in her early 20s when she was getting ready to move to Arizona after graduate school. To her, it seemed as though someone had placed a painting in front of her eyes. Specifically, Baldwin hikes the North Rim of the Grand Canyon because it is quieter, more secluded and gets more rainfall.
Outside of hiking, Baldwin and her husband are traveling internationally more frequently, visiting places like India, Haiti, Panama, Australia and Ecuador. Their most recent trip was a visit through Europe last fall, where they took a Viking River Cruise through the Rhine River.
Although Baldwin easily gets wrapped up in her work, she finds solace in these hobbies and her family.
Julie Baldwin smiles during an interview in her office at the Applied Research and Development building, March 28. Jonah Graham
are very real and that there are multiple factors contributing to this,” Baldwin said.
One of the projects Baldwin is involved in through CHER is conducting research on preventing early childhood cavities. The center sees higher rates of childhood cavities in minoritized children and those who live in rural areas. It partnered with the Hopi Tribe and Crow Tribe to explore factors and influences of childhood cavities.
Much of Baldwin’s career features the prevention of chronic and infectious diseases, such as diabetes and HIV/ AIDS. As a citizen of the Cherokee Nation of Oklahoma, her work often focuses on health promotion programs for Indigenous communities. She leads a consistent research program to help prevent HIV/AIDS and substance abuse in youth, working specifically with Indigenous children and their families.
In 2022, Baldwin was elected to the U.S. National Academy of Medicine — considered one of the highest honors in the fields of health and medicine — for her work on the HIV/AIDS and substance abuse prevention program.
“It was really one of the greatest honors of my life,” Baldwin said. “I didn’t think, ever, that would happen.”
Now, Baldwin is excited to have come full circle, back to medical school, as she works with other NAU faculty to plan and create the university’s new College of Medicine. NAU announced in September 2023 to address health equity in Arizona.
Baldwin and other key figures in the new school’s development will meet to discuss logistics like curriculum, stakeholders, funding and organizational structure.
“I think that’s going to be really exciting to have that meeting,” Baldwin
said. “Then, our consultants are going to help us think together a systems map looking at who we would be serving as a new college of medicine, the potential communities and partners we might be working with, whether they’re healthcare systems or other community based organizations. We also hope to work very closely with all of the tribal communities in the state.”
Between planning the new college, directing the research center and staying involved in its various projects and fields of research, Baldwin is pulled in many directions.
It is often her family that helps her cope with the demands of her roles. She said her experiences with her children, all three around their 20s, go a long way in keeping her grounded. Her husband is good at pulling her away from work and taking her to see live music, on camping trips or hikes with their dog.
Baldwin’s husband taught at the University of South Florida’s College of Medicine. He now works at NAU as a professor in the Department of Biological Sciences. Having someone she can rely on to give her a break from work — but still talk to about projects she works on — helps her relax.
“It’s really nice to be able to chat about all these different things,” Baldwin said. “I’m a pretty driven person, and I work many, many hours, but he’s good because he’s able to say, ‘OK, let’s take a break now. Let’s go for a walk. Let’s go to a concert.’”
It is the moments with her family that have helped her keep working through some of the harder parts of being involved in public health. In projects like the HIV/AIDS and substance abuse prevention program, it can be hard for Baldwin to see large groups of people suffering from complex issues like drug
use and inadequate food accessibility.
Baldwin said work like the childhood cavity prevention project can also be emotional because cavities in baby teeth can be linked to issues ranging from infection to speech problems.
“I think that’s the hardest part, just seeing these things and wishing you could do more,” Baldwin said. “But I do feel that a lot of our programs have had an impact. That’s the gratifying part. When you see that they really do seem to be working and people really do believe in them and they take ownership with these projects.”
In the HIV/AIDS prevention program, community-based groups teach modules designed to educate middle and high school kids on risks related to HIV/AIDS and substance abuse.
After five years with the HIV/ AIDS prevention program, Baldwin said some of the communities involved in the project were excited about its effectiveness and continued it on their own afterward.
The program became integrated into school curriculums, which Baldwin said was a big commitment because it is five weeks long.
“It is [critical] to involve the community in every step of the way, with what you’re doing and because, ultimately, that community needs to become empowered to do this,” Baldwin said. “We’re not able to empower others. That has to come from within.”
One of Baldwin’s favorite parts of the public health approach is how it provides the support people need to find strength within themselves and improve their health.
She admits she is still learning how to be careful about how much work she takes on but that being involved in projects that can make a difference for people gives her the energy to keep going.
The projects Baldwin is involved in are about making a difference. Research on early childhood cavities is conducted to develop an intervention program for cavity prevention. Research programs aimed at HIV/AIDS and substance abuse prevention in youth attempt to inform and reduce the risk behaviors that put children in danger.
Long lasting change in public health often requires policy revision, but one day, the difference Baldwin works toward may provide everyone with the help they need to meet their highest level of health.
by Madison Easton
On a Wednesday afternoon, student workers and long-time employees crowd together in the dispatch room of the Centennial building. Adjacent to a large map of campus parking lots are taped-up pieces of copy paper covered in doodles and inside jokes. A plaque hangs above the three computer monitors on a singular desk, entitling its owner — the parking manager — as the “World’s Greatest Grandpa” despite being 24 years old.
The group of Parking and Shuttle Services employees joke about particularly outrageous experiences on the job. They jest with each other over their jobs as one student exclaims he is not evil — he just does maintenance — before playfully pointing a finger at the parking enforcers laughing back at him.
Parking Services enforces on-campus parking standards, issues parking permits, operates campus garages and updates university parking regulations. Despite a student-constructed image of strictness and predation, they work to prevent overflow in lots with permitless cars, reckless parking and obstruction of fire lanes and handicap spots.
A small and tight-knit team, six full-time staff members operate the Parking Services portion of University Transit Services, with student employees occupying all other positions, including receptionists and drivers.
The department also includes a field staff consisting of student dispatchers, field officers and a maintenance team.
Director of University Transit Services Erin Stam said the job can be particularly taxing, with unpleasant stigmas against parking providers seeping into interactions with the department’s student workers.
Even so, she said negative interactions are the minority, and she tries to prioritize safety and camaraderie in the workplace.
“We’re a family,” Stam said. “We have our dysfunction in some places.
The fact is, because the job is hard, we do try to have a really supportive environment.”
Across campus, a student returns to his car and comes face-to-face with an infamous piece of paper under his windshield wiper. With a knowing groan, he plucks it from under the wiper blades.
The ticket is for a violation of zone restriction, and the student, Brendon Lynn, now owes Parking Services $50.
Lynn is a senior graduating with a degree in creative media and film. Four years of car use at the university have accumulated five parking violations in his name. He said his dilemma with the parking tickets is the price and appeals process.
“That’s what’s so humiliating, and I would use the word humiliating because it’s so much money,” Lynn said. “I’ve even begged on some of the parking tickets where I’ve said, ‘This is my food this week. This is groceries.’”
Tickets administered can range from a warning with no fine to $100. The average ticket is $50 and is usually given for parking on campus without a permit.
Lynn said he received each of his tickets after violating zone restrictions.
As a film major, Lynn is required to check out heavy film equipment and carry it from one set location to another. With no accessible parking lot, he said he is confused about where he can load up his vehicle without being ticketed.
“There’s this area right behind the Communication building where there are parking spots, but it’s not for anyone without a parking pass for that area,” Lynn said. “I always have to have someone watching my car because I know that [parking employees] are predatory, and the second that I walk away, there’s going to be a ticket on there.”
Illustration by Rebecca HeizelmanThe consensus on students’ feelings toward Parking Services is similar: They only give tickets with the intention of making money, preying on poor students and targeting individuals for the sake of profit.
Parking Services officials acknowledge these complaints, as they hear them every day. Many parking employees say they resent these assumptions and work to dispute them.
As of February, 34% of NAU students had a parking permit.
Campus parking lots are sorted into employee, resident and commuter zones, each requiring a permit. An annual resident parking permit, valid for parking in one of NAU’s six residential zones, costs $525, up from last year’s price of $500 and $470 in 2021
Parking Services adjusts permit rates annually to compensate for inflation. As a self-funded department that receives no financial assistance from the state or tuition costs, the division is also responsible for staff salaries and the full maintenance of on-campus parking garages.
Last year, Parking Services allocated roughly $1.2 million to garage and lot maintenance costs. More than $2 million annually goes to paying off the $24-million San Francisco Parking Garage.
The Mountain View Parking Garage and San Francisco Parking Garage require $2-million top deck replacements every five to seven years, which Parking Services covers.
In a good year, Stam said the department pulls in about $6 million in
revenue from sold parking permits to finance these updates.
“I have a long list of things that need to be repaired, and I’m just trying to make the best decisions possible based on the funds that we have,” Stam said.
Angry customers typically accuse the department of issuing more citations than necessary. Stam said her team would rather teach violators what they did wrong than allow them to continue making mistakes and being cited.
Of the 9,879 citations the department issued from July to December 2023, 42% were warnings without fines.
The department offers citation appeals through its virtual Diversion Program. Once a year, an individual with a LOUIE account can complete an online course to waive a minor offense and the correlating fine. Stam estimates more than 70% of those in the program pass the final test.
“For people who say, ‘You just want our money,’ we give up hundreds of dollars in potential revenue to educate first,” Stam said. “We do that because it’s more important to us that people actually learn.”
When an individual receives a parking citation, they can choose between the Diversion Program and, if they believe they were ticketed unfairly, filing an appeal. All appeals go through a single parking appeals officer who reads through the provided information and determines whether to reduce the fine.
“We’re a family. We have our dysfunction in some places. The fact is, because the job is hard, we do try to have a really supportive environment.”
Many employees are undergraduate student employees, with a majority coming from the Department of Criminology and Criminal Justice.
One junior criminal justice student, who requested to not be named for their safety, is part of the team as a driver and ticket administrator. While the job is an important step in his career path, he said it is not always pleasurable.
Aggressive interactions between parking violators and Parking Services have created a rift between the two, he said, dividing campus into an “us versus them” mentality. The student said he feels a distinct disconnect, heightened by social media posts on Snapchat and NAU Barstool making fun of Parking Services employees.
“I’ve had a lot of people angry with me, yelling at me and flipping me off,” the student employee said. “I’ll just be driving by, not even interacting with anyone, and they will just flip us off or yell at us.”
After almost two years of employment, the student said he plans to stay with Parking Services, regardless of the stress that comes with the job. While issuing citations is not a fun activity, he said the service ultimately benefits students.
“We’re just doing our job,” he said. “We’re not there to humiliate you. We’re not there to target anyone. We’re just making sure that people have a place to park.”
With three department vehicles split across three campus zones, pairs of dispatchers patrol campus parking lots using license plate recognition software.
Each vehicle’s camera compares a car’s license plate to permit holders in their system to determine if an individual is parking legally. Employees then verify this information using hand-held devices.
Cars parked on campus must have visible license plates, preventing vehicles with one license plate from backing into most spaces.
Parking Services also uses the license plate recognition system for routine parking space counts to ensure the division is not overselling permits. Popular parking zones, like residence hall lots, tend to fill up quickly with increasing NAU enrollment numbers. But, Parking Manager Deric Chappell said the department is not worried about limited space.
“There definitely is a misconception that we’re running out of parking because you may pull into a south commuter parking lot and there’s no space, but if you just head down the street, we have other south
commuter lots that I have never seen fill up,” Chappell said.
Chappell began working at Parking Services in 2019 as a student dispatcher. Now, working mainly at the Centennial building, he manages garage entries and security cameras while logging dispatch radio calls for employee safety and accountability. For confidentiality, student employees log their work with their badge numbers instead of their names.
With almost five years of experience in the field, Chappell said individuals often accuse him and other staff members of working on commission or being paid based on the number of citations they issue.
While he monitors the activity of every student employee issuing citations, he said he does so to ensure they remain productive throughout the day. Meeting a daily quota is not something Parking Services demands.
Instead, Chappell monitors employee activity through motorist assistance.
Parking Services offers free maintenance help, like jump-starting a car battery, changing a flat tire or pushing a car stuck in ice, as long as the vehicle is on campus and staff are available. The department also offers one free gallon of gas in the case of an emergency. This service is limited to one gallon one time per individual.
From July 2023 to February, Parking Services has conducted 211 motorist assists.
“We’re called Parking Services, not parking enforcement,” Chappell said. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had people say, ‘Well, you just work on commission. You’re just writing tickets because you’re going to make more money.’ But that is a false reality. If we worked on commission, I’d be in the field every day.”
While enforcing parking rules can be intense in extreme cases, Chappell said it is easier knowing his fellow employees are nearby and have experienced similar circumstances.
In 2020, Chappell received a death threat over the phone from a customer who was issued a citation. After alerting the police and ensuring field dispatchers knew about the situation, he said his co-workers began supporting him immediately.
“It can be a very traumatic thing, but we all know what we go through on a daily basis,” Chappell said. “We know that we have people who are going to scream in our face when we get a citation. We can laugh through it, joke through it, sometimes cry through it just because it sometimes gets to you.”
Despite the emotional toll Parking Service employees often find themselves facing, there is solace and companionship found within their work community.
Nearly every surface within their office is covered with written reminders of that camaraderie. Bordering Chappell’s monitors are taped notes that read, “You are so loved,” “Complain less and be grateful more” and “Nice hair today.”
In a workplace full of complaints and frustrations, the staff manage to joke with one another, hold potlucks and sing carpool karaoke in the service vehicles.
Parking Services has three vehicles that serve NAU.
Over the past seven seasons, head coach Loree Payne has steadily built up the NAU women’s basketball program from a seven-win squad to a perennial Big Sky Conference title contender.
Constructing a team like Payne’s takes dedication from the coaching staff on the recruiting end and faith from the players to follow along with the vision she set forth.
Payne said she expects high standards from her players’ leadership on the court. Being in tune with what the coaches want is exactly what she looks for in a leader.
“There’s an expectation of being an extension of us as a coaching staff,” Payne said, “being on the same page as us, making sure that we’re speaking the same language and keeping things positive, but not in an ‘everything’s rainbows and butterflies’ positive. Leaders have to say the tough stuff and do the tough things.”
Khiarica Rasheed and Regan Schenck are two recent graduates who made their mark in Flagstaff. Both players were instrumental in accelerating the program’s growth the past two years while helping younger players succeed.
As it so happens, that is the exact position senior guard Emily Rodabaugh was in her final year.
Being the elder stateswoman on the team, she is one of the Lumberjacks’ most vocal leaders, echoing what the coaches want while encouraging her teammates with her voice and ambitions.
She was not always in a leadership position, though.
Like any college athlete, Rodabaugh had to work her way up to get the respect and trust of everyone around her. She endured the ills of entering a program with an established starter at her on-court position and fighting for the job. When that moment finally came, she was more than ready for it.
“My first game of my sophomore year, we played UNLV, and I came out, and I scored 27 points from the five position,” Rodabaugh said. “I was kind of in a role where I would do whatever they needed of me as long as I was able to be on the court. That game was just a huge confidence boost and really showed me that I was more than capable of doing it.”
When Rodabaugh settled into her leadership role, she ensured younger players felt welcomed.
Rodabaugh found it important to make everyone feel included early so the team could grow together as time went on. She was available for her teammates to talk to and ask questions about playing for a college basketball team.
“The girls always joke that I’m the grandma or mom of the team,” Rodabaugh said. “I’ve been very intentional about communicating with the younger girls
because that was something I didn’t have my freshman year. I always make sure that they are taken care of and that they are always a part of the team.”
As Rodabaugh’s career progressed, players joined and left the locker room, including the aforementioned Rasheed and Schenck. The change of college hoops is as inevitable as the changing of the seasons, and Rodabaugh was well aware of the players transitioning out every year.
She continued to look ahead and encouraged the incoming roster to do the same, creating new rapport in the locker room.
Now, Rodabaugh is one of two seniors leaving the team this season, and her legacy in the blue and gold lies both on the court and in the hearts of her coaches and teammates.
Payne’s reflection of Rodabaugh’s legacy was along the same lines, and she had nothing but praise to give one of her foundational players.
“She’s one of the glue pieces for us,” Payne said. “She’s someone who has been a consistent voice, a consistent leader for this program. She’s a foundational piece of this program to being a championship contender.”
Transfer guard Grace Beasley from fellow Big Sky member Montana State University will accompany Rodabaugh on the way out this spring. Beasley had an interesting path to becoming a Lumberjack, starting on the other side of the world in Melbourne, Australia.
From there, she went to Midland College in Texas for two years before transferring to the University of Washington for only one season. After the Huskies coach left, she transferred to Montana State and used her graduate transfer to join the Lumberjacks for her final collegiate season.
Beasley’s arrival at NAU followed closely after the departure of Schenck, who shared a similar playstyle. Beasley accredited Schenck’s success in the NAU offense as one of the main reasons she chose to make the move to Flagstaff.
“Watching Regan and playing against Regan, I absolutely loved her game from day one,” Beasley said. “I think that was definitely a role I felt that I could fulfill when choosing to come here.”
Beasley fit into NAU’s scheme early on and notched key performances in non-conference victories. She scored a then career-high 21 points against Pepperdine University back in December before following with an 18-point outing against Southern Utah University a few days later.
In a game against Portland State University in January, she aggravated a leg injury that sidelined her for nearly a month. Beasley said her teammates and staff helped keep her hopes high. She recognized she needed to continue to be a positive role model even though she was not on the court with her team.
“My biggest thing was trying to stay positive,” Beasley said. “In certain games, there were moments where I was in Tay’s ear and talking to players on the sideline. I tried to give as much to the game from a mental point of view and give my teammates a different perspective off the court.”
Beasley’s absence was noticed on the court, but off the court, she stepped right in and was there for her team. Payne said Beasley was the person they needed this season because she could fill Schenck’s role, and her impact was more than what people saw on the surface level.
“Her diverse background of experiences in her collegiate journey has allowed her to pour everything into this year,” Payne said. “Her dynamic on-court presence continued to take our program to the next level in transition.”
Rodabaugh and Beasley now leave the team to new hands.
Juniors Nyah and Olivia Moran as well as Beasley’s former MSU teammate Leia Beattie will all be seniors and potential leaders next season, but another player has quickly risen the ranks.
“ We just are very comfortable with each other, and we can be ourselves. I think that really makes us even more tightly knit because everyone brings something unique to the table.”
- Sophie Glancey
Sophomore forward for NAU women’s basketball
Sophomore forward Sophie Glancey finished the regular season as a finalist for Big Sky MVP and a member of the All-Conference first team. After breaking her hand last season and recovering, she improved her averages to 15.2 points and 7.2 rebounds per game, both in the upper echelon of conference leaderboards.
This ascension was not surprising to people within NAU’s staff, specifically Payne, who distinguished Glancey as one of the best players in the conference from the beginning of the season.
“As a sophomore, that’s pretty special,” Payne said. “Sophie has no idea how great she is, and that’s what makes her great. She’s the most humble kid that you’ll ever be around.”
season came into play during gametime. This season’s group is the “silliest team” she said she has played for.
“We just are very comfortable with each other, and we can be ourselves,” Glancey said. “I think that really makes us even more tightly knit because everyone brings something unique to the table.”
The trio impacted the Lumberjacks’ run to the Big Sky Conference tournament championship game by displaying constant communication with the coaches and their teammates.
NAU will fill the void of Rodabaugh and Beasley for next season, but Payne said Glancey’s continued growth and the camaraderie in the locker room sets the Lumberjacks up for future success. The foundations Payne set with players like Rodabaugh, Rasheed, Schenck and Beasley carry over to the new players and leaders and, in turn, set the standard of NAU
As the season progressed, Glancey became more confident and put up stellar performances for her team when they needed them.
In a November game against Youngstown State University, Glancey posted 26 points on 12-17 shooting while making the eventual gamesealing bucket. She said that game marked the moment her team really started to trust her moving forward.
“That was a game where we were ahead, but it was kinda close,” Glancey said. “I scored a lot, like 26, and my teammates were getting me the ball. They were definitely looking for me in that one, and it was working really well for us.”
After that performance, Glancey continued to put together MVPlike statistics. In a three-game stretch in January, she averaged 23 points and 10 rebounds, with two 30-point performances against the Montana schools.
Glancey said her teammates fueled the two performances against the Montana schools, and the relationships they developed through the
When ordering at a restaurant, it can be difficult to choose between sticking to a classic or trying something new, and the best fare might be one a customer doesn’t consider. By
For those with a more refined taste in a pie, this wood-fired white has a great balance of flavor. The lemon olive oil dressing dances behind the salty prosciutto, grounded by mascarpone topped with pecorino. A subtle bite comes from the slightly charred crust and arugula tossed on top.
$17.50
MartAnne’s Breakfast PalaceThis Mexican-American restaurant fuses two culinary backgrounds, inviting in crowds a tune to classics in both flavors. This tamale-base benedict plate is served with crispy hashbrowns, slow-roasted beef, beans, avocado and a buttery thin hollandaise. While offered only on occasion, it speaks to the diverse taste of MartAnne’s.
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A sharable serving of tender chicken nestled in a spiced gravy and paired with garlic naan and rice makes for an irresistible combination. Subtle almond notes and the delicate sweetness of the sauce in addition to the chosen spice level form tasteful layers in this rich dish.
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Aspen DeliOutside the sphere of typical deli food, this sweet and salty panini provides a lighter fare option. The brie oozes out from the sandwich and is complemented by the slight crunch of the warmed Fuji apples and cheese-crisped edges of the bread. Hints of wildflower honey add a charm to the havarti and cream cheese spread on each side of the panini.
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A comfort meal, this pho has depth in its simplicity. The combination of rare beef, beef meatballs and a transcendent broth offers flavors that build on each other. Served with sides of bean sprouts, jalapeños, lime and basil, the dish can be dressed in a manner of ways.
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Red Tamale Beef Benedict Pho Tai Bo Vien ChopStix Vietnamese Kitchen Chicken Korma Delhi PalaceWith a chef’s choice of five kinds of sushi alongside a California roll, Teppan Fuji’s sushi lunch combination is simple, yet filling. For those who haven’t tried sushi before, it’s a great introduction to the flavors while providing a popular, well-balanced roll.
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Quesa Birria Tacos Los Altenos
Little Thai Kitchen
Aromatic food and individualized service in the six-table restaurant greet customers as they walk in. Little Thai’s mouthwatering yellow curry has a creamy, nutty base that can be spiced to preference. With potatoes that crumble upon contact, sweet peas, red bell pepper, carrots and onion alongside a choice of protein, it’s a dish that can be easily enjoyed by many.
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Paco Burger
Mama B’s (formerly Mama Burger) is once again a staple in the community with its same straightforward yet enticing approach to the classic American burger. The Paco Burger’s classic smashed patty is topped with American cheese and sits between buttered and toasted buns spread with chipotle mayo, lettuce and a pico de gallo that finds its way into every bite.
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These beef stew tacos pack a punch with a savory heat, toned only by the cheese stretched between their soft shells. Dipped in red chile and grilled to a crisp, the outer layer of the tacos paired with extra birria on the side creates a texture dimension not commonly found in most tacos served today.
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Known mostly for its savory English hand pies, Cornish’s desserts take just as much of the stage. Its caramelized apple and cinnamon filling tucked into a crumbly crust twisted to a close is an unforgettable dish on its own. It is served with vanilla ice cream and topped with a thin caramel sauce.
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Spicy Pork Bulgogi Kokiyo
One of the only Korean barbeque places in Flagstaff, Kokiyo holds its weight. Its pork bulgogi tossed in house-made barbeque sauce has profiles of sweetness, spice and a tang that calls for just another bite. The dish is served on a bed of cabbage, broccolini and carrots, with sides of rice, Korean cucumber salad (oi muchim), kimchi and stirfried fish cakes.
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Mama B’sAs a northern Arizona publication based at the foot of the San Francisco Peaks — which more than 13 tribes view as sacred — The Lumberjack is dedicated to sharing a complete and accurate portrayal of Arizona and the Colorado Plateau. Indigenous voices are crucial to telling the story of this region, as their history, wisdom and perspectives form its foundation and future. We asked local Indigenous students and activists how they think Indigeneity can best be represented in our newspaper and media across the nation. Three Diné advocates shared their thoughts on stereotyped portrayals, the impacts of colonial history and the importance of Indigenous self-determination.
Indigenous voices are powerful. They possess the wisdom of our ancestors and cultural traditions. There is a uniqueness to every Indigenous culture that distinguishes one Indigenous people from another. Oftentimes, the media utilizes stereotypes to group Indigenous people as one, which
eliminates the diversity of culture. Grouping up Indigenous people in this way is similar to the atrocities that occurred throughout American history, such as the Indian Removal Act of 1830 and assimilation.
The Indian Removal Act of 1830 sanctioned the removal of Indigenous people from their homelands to concentration camp-like sites far away. This act grouped up Indigenous people and paved the way for assimilation. Assimilation is the process of stripping away all cultural practices and conforming to American society. The idea of assimilation did not sit well with our ancestors; this instilled a desire to keep our cultural traditions and teachings. Although assimilation is a battle we still fight to this day, Indigenous people have persevered. Indigenous people are still here with unique cultural practices that connect us to Mother Earth. Therefore, Indigenous voices should be reflected accurately in the media.
There hasn’t been an accurate representation of Indigenous voices in the media. To capture the true experiences of Indigenous people, one must be immersed in the culture and understand where the voices come from. Becoming immersed in the culture starts by respecting the culture and loving the people. From there, visiting Indigenous homelands and conversing with community members facilitates a positive environment for gathering voices. All in all, Indigenous voices possess a sacredness that cannot be taken away, because Indigenous people have been here for millennia and will continue to persevere for generations to come.
The following is an in-person conversation between The Lumberjack Editor-in-Chief Jonah Graham and Matthew Haven. Haven was selected to share his perspective as someone who is not as involved in the news cycle.
How have you seen in media, and that could be in the news, that could be in the movies, that could be in whatever it is that [you have] seen Indigenous voices or Indigenous persons misrepresented in your opinion?
Haven: Oh man. I think the only kind of things I’ve seen about Native’s and media, it’s been like those the old westerns like “Prey” is a pretty recent one. I feel like, I think a lot of it can make us seem kind of backwards or still in an age where we run around with cloths and living in teepees, you know?
Do you see any misrepresentation maybe in the news cycle? Do you see any of that when the news is talking about Indigenous policies or Indigenous problems that may arise?
Haven: I haven’t really seen too much of that. I think the only thing that I’ve really seen recently was with the Supreme Court supplying the Navajo Nation with water, but I don’t know if that would be considered misrepresentation, but they moved in favor of not supplying the Navajo Nation with water. And I think that’s, ‘cause we are seen as a sovereign nation. But that would be the only thing that I would consider like misrepresentation or just kind of like a miscommunication between the state and the Navajo Nation as a whole.
Do you ever see it through social media?
Haven: Maybe not so much through social media? I feel like social media is on the contrast to that, where it’s a lot more of — in my feeds, it’s more so people talking about — how Native Americans are moving forward and kind of combating the miscommunication and the misrepresentation within the media, with government officials and policies.
What do you think allows that? Why is there a contrast and why do you think one is positive and one is more so negative?
Haven: I would say it’s probably more forward in social media because it, social media kind of gives more people a voice. Like, you post anything you want, you can say whatever you want, within certain boundaries. But, when it comes to movies or TV shows, it’s kind of limited to what a director wants, how they want their actors to portray themselves. And I think it just kind of goes back to the idea of like, ‘OK, I’m gonna tell you who to be, how to be so you can represent your ethnicity, your culture that I don’t know anything about really.’ So, that’s why I think social media’s a little more forward in the moving away from this representation.
Background photo: NAU students and organizers march through the streets of Flagstaff on their way to Flagstaff City Hall on Indigenous Peoples Day, Oct. 9, 2023. Madison Easton 35“Yá’át’ééh shik’éé dóó shidine’é. Shí éí Kaly Arvizu yinshyé. Natoh Diné Táchii’nii nishłi. Nakaii’ báshíshchíín. Tsi’naajinii dah shicheii. Nakaii’ dah shinálí. Hello my friends and relatives, my name is Kaly Arvizu, and I am a traditional Diné (Navajo), with my first clan being the Tobacco People of the Red Running Into The Water and my third clan being the Black Streaked Wood People. My paternal heritage is Hispanic and Mexican. I am 23 years old from Tuba City, Arizona on the Navajo Nation, and I was also the 2022 NAU Indigenous Ambassador titleholder. It’s customary in Diné culture to introduce yourself before speaking to a new audience.
As you can see from my introduction, representing ourselves properly is very important to us Diné, as is the case for all Indigenous cultures. Unfortunately, there’s been a long history of the media doing the opposite.
In the past, Indigenous representation in the media consisted of harmful stereotypes meant to dehumanize and disassociate the public’s perception of us from who we actually are. We were depicted as simplistic, primitive, easily-angered and unintelligent drunkards, who are somehow also stoic and even magical. Growing up surrounded by these depictions, I was often confused and deeply hurt by witnessing what was supposed to be people like me. It was nothing like my family and I were. Was this really what the world outside of Dinétah thought of us? And yes, apparently it was. Those stereotypes impacted me greatly, and I continue to face racism at the hands of non-Natives whose only perception of Native Peoples comes from the harm media has perpetuated for
decades now. I’ve actively seen the lack of empathy it has caused toward Indigenous issues such as the Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women, Girls and Two-Spirit Epidemic. I’ve encountered many people who didn’t even know my People still existed, or were even real to begin with!
Commercials depict us as Crying Indians who are silent and shed a single, little tear at the sight of pollution. The actor in said commercial was Italian American with no Indigenous heritage whatsoever, by the way. They don’t show you the way we fight for a healthy planet. They don’t show you the fact that humor is a staple of our cultures, and how we are very humorous people. You’ve never heard the way jokes told in Diné Bizaad are much funnier than in English.
History books tell you my ancestors were too ignorant to accept the colonizers’ “help.” They don’t tell you how smart we are. They don’t tell you all the ways they destroyed us. They don’t tell you all the ways we resisted because they don’t want you to know how strong we are. Did you know it took an army of 5,000 men to capture Geronimo and his warriors of less than 100?
Pretendians, stereotypes and Indigenous erasure in the media have no place in our futures.
Read stories by Indigenous authors, watch films created by Indigenous writers and directors, pay attention to Indigenous issues when they come across your feed, listen to Indigenous voices.
Remember whose lands you occupy.
Let us show you who we are.
Ahéhee’.
Pitch-black darkness envelops the J. Lawrence Walkup Skydome, except for the few street lights lining the sidewalks. The early-morning silence is palpable. While the students and faculty of NAU are sound asleep, custodians start their work day at 4 a.m.
As the janitors buzz into the dome with their swipe cards, they are met with dirt, grime and debris from two previous basketball games and an unexpected high school track meet. Assistant manager of Custodial Services Alverae Laughter met with her team of seven to start cleaning up before coaches, athletes and the ROTC team entered the building.
“As soon as we get in, it’s like, ‘Go, go, go,’” Laughter said.
Some hallway lights are still on from the night before, but the early-morning darkness makes the building dimmer. Despite the early hours, the custodians brew their coffee and start by 4:30 a.m.
Between managing her custodial team’s work in the Student-Athlete High Performance Center, the dome and any other buildings that might need attention, Laughter amasses about 20,000 steps a day. The team periodically
Photos by Nathan Ecker and Beau Foy Illustration by Calleigh Judayrotates which buildings they are in so they are used to the layout of each building.
Laughter might bounce from building to building all morning, but she said she especially loves the dome.
“It’s my building,” Laughter said with an enthusiastic laugh. “It feels like home.”
The janitors in charge of cleaning Skydome bathrooms stay on the second level and push around carts full of toilet paper, microfiber towels and cleaning chemicals. The other group, responsible for locker rooms, takes the elevators down to the ground level and weaves their way through the hallways.
The locker rooms are the highest priority in the morning because it is hard to maneuver around the 120-person football team once they arrive, Laughter said. Coaches and athletes start appearing around 5:30 a.m., so ideally, those areas are completed by then.
Custodian Sarah Dewey has been in her position at NAU for five years. She said she likes her job because she does not feel the need to rush to finish her work like previous jobs. She likes working with the custodial team at NAU because it is a group of people who can get along well together without much bickering.
Dewey starts her morning by cleaning the football team’s locker room and incrementally working her way down the hallway of locker rooms. Another custodian on the opposite end works together to clean each space in a timely manner.
“If you’re on a [custodial] team that treats you horribly, then it is harder to wake up, but other times you’re way too exhausted to actually wake up,” Dewey said.
The janitorial staff is allowed three breaks throughout their day: two 15-minute breaks and an hour for lunch.
By Lexi WightThe Skydome holds 97,000 square feet of seating and entertainment, maintained by Custodial Services.
Although the maintenance routine for custodians at the Skydome remains relatively consistent throughout the academic year, the crew is on a tight schedule during commencement weekend. This Spring, commencement is split between two days, May 10-11, with two separate commencement sessions happening each day. The commencement ceremonies are held at 10 a.m. and 3 p.m. on Friday and at 11 a.m. and 4 p.m. on Saturday.
Between confetti, unfinished drinks, program pamphlets and food wrappers left behind, the custodians only have around an hour and a half to clean the stands before the next commencement group takes the
“As soon as we get in, it’s like, ‘Go, go, go,’”
The first 15-minute break is around 6 a.m. However, sometimes there is no time to sit down and rest because there is too much trash and debris to clean up. Dewey said taking a break would only slow them down.
Coaches and athletes start to arrive after about an hour of wiping, mopping and restocking. More lights are turned on throughout the building, filling the space with a more lively energy. A few linemen and fullbacks find their way into the locker room while it is still being cleaned, but once Dewey is complete, more men start filling the space.
Once 9 a.m. strikes, it is time for lunch, but finding a suitable place to take a break is a challenge. There is no official break room in the dome for janitors to sit down and relax. There is a large closet near the east entrance with a computer and small coffee pot, but with a couple of chairs and far too many cleaning chemicals, sitting for an extended period is challenging. The custodians have the option to sit down in the bleachers, but they risk being seen as lazy or unprofessional by patrons or other departments.
Dewey said some fans and athletes say “thank you” during sporting events while they are cleaning, but custodial staff are expected to work at all times. There was an instance where she sat down to rest for a few minutes after a particularly heavy cleaning, and an employee in a different department took a photo of her and sent it to the assistant director of facility services, Timothy Elliott.
“It’s hard sometimes because I don’t want anyone thinking I’m not doing anything,” Dewey said. “Even if sometimes they know your break time is at this exact time, they will still go after you.”
During a meeting with Laughter, Elliot thanked her for her organization and commitment to keeping a clean school. He said, without her, the custodial department would not function as seamlessly and smoothly.
“Being positive and understanding the university mission plays a huge role,” Elliot said. “I think that makes a big difference.”
Laughter is the leading woman who organizes teams of custodians for the dome and 14 other buildings across south campus. Often, if there is an event in one of those buildings, custodians from the dome are spread thin to ensure the space is clean before the event.
Dewey said what was most shocking since she started working at the school five and a half years ago was an instance in the Health Professions building. She and a coworker were in charge of cleaning the floors in the area where the dental students practice their procedures when they stumbled upon cadavers in the room they were told to clean.
“We ended up having to clean, strip and wax the floor around the bodies,” Dewey said. “They didn’t cover the bodies or anything. They were like, ‘Oh, just treat them like furniture. It’s fine.’”
Although the people in charge of the cadavers assured Dewey they would be stored away from the custodian’s sight, that was not the case when she and her teammate entered the room.
While cleaning large events, such as football games, track meets and commencement ceremonies, staff measures increase. Rather than the usual eight employees on staff for a normal event, commencement pulls custodians from other departments for a total of 20.
“There’s a lot of pride,” Elliot said. “They really do care and they really do good.”
Each weekday morning, the custodians work for hours before the sun rises to ensure a clean space for the athletic and other departments to work in. While 4 a.m. might be considered too early for some, the janitors have rewired their sleep schedules to maintain a clean space for others to watch a sporting event or graduation.
remember it distinctly. Spring semester, freshman year, as I walked down the postsnow, sludgy pathway and prepared to cross San Francisco Street, I scanned my surroundings for approaching cars. I found myself transfixed by an orange triangle sticking out of a waterfilled ditch. The figure was a Starship robot, waving its flag of surrender before succumbing to its demise.
The sight has haunted me ever since. I needed to know — what happens when a robot dies?
Starship Technologies first started as a design by Ahti Heinla for a NASA competition in 2014. The robots’ original purpose was to collect rock samples on Mars; however, NASA rejected his proposal. The Estonian software engineer then teamed up with Janus Friis, a Danish entrepreneur, to form an autonomous food delivery service that now has fleets of robots on over 50 college campuses
NAU was the second college in the country
to acquire a Starship fleet. In 2019, Starship collaborated with Sodexo to bring 30 robots to campus. Ever since, students and robots have been forced to coexist.
The robots caught the attention of Steven Gehrke, an assistant professor in the Department of Geography, Planning and Recreation. Gehrke wondered if the robots were causing conflict with pedestrians and cyclists on campus and became the principal investigator of a study monitoring the movements of Starships on highly trafficked pathways.
The United States Department of Transportation funded the research, which examined interactions between robots and human travelers on campus sidewalks. As the principal investigator, Gehrke led a team of researchers who consulted Campus Dining about which areas saw the most collisions and near-collisions between cyclists or pedestrians and Starship robots. They then set up cameras around campus for a week-long observation and
surveyed students about their experiences with the robots.
“We just wanted to get a sense of how much trouble they are,” Gehrke said. “Are there actually safety issues there where people are being run off the sidewalks by these devices?”
The researchers’ safety concerns were legitimate. In 2019, the University of Pittsburgh removed its Starship fleet after a robot blocked access to a crosswalk, endangering a student attempting to cross the street with her wheelchair.
“What we found was that there were instances where the robots were behaving a little more aggressively than we thought,” Gehrke said. “That’s annoying for a cyclist if you’re traveling at a faster speed. That could potentially be dangerous if you have to slam on your breaks, you can’t swerve quick enough and you run into one of those things, or you try to get out of the way and hit somebody else.”
While the interview with Gehrke did
not resolve my curiosity, it did intensify my fascination. My dreams the following night were haunted by aggressive and dangerous robots colliding with pedestrians and cyclists.
Once Gehrke informed me Starship Technologies denied his team access to analyze the robots, I knew my pursuit was only just beginning. I needed someone with hands-on experience; someone whose fingers had touched the inside of a robot. Every NAU or Starship employee I reached out to redirected me to the same person — Annie Handrick, Starship’s campus marketing manager.
Handrick said over the past five years, Starship robots have completed more than 6 million deliveries. The company worked with state legislatures to develop laws regulating sidewalk robots.
“Starship is the undisputed leader in robot delivery technology,” Handrick said. “We created the industry back in 2014, and our autonomous technology leads all others by wide margins.”
Insistent on staying on task, I asked what happens when Starships break down, hoping to gain more insight into the process of a robot repair or funeral.
“Starship robots are built to last and can handle a lot,” Handrick said. “If they break down, one of our technicians typically repairs them on-site. In the rare instance when a robot can’t be repaired, the components are sent back to our manufacturing facility in Europe.”
While I had gained more context about the robots and Starship Technologies as a company, I was still missing the perspective I was seeking. It seemed that robot technicians were impossible to find, but I was desperate to understand the experience of those who worked intimately with the Starships. Unless I gained the funds to fly to
Estonia and see a manufacturing facility, I felt I was out of luck.
Dissatisfied, I spent the evening wandering the sleet-drenched campus. I stalked robots as they drove to and from the University Union, photographing their movements. I watched the glow of their orange flags stand stark against the navy blue sky, the illumination of their headlights sparkling against the wet sidewalk. I listened to the sound of their tires hissing through slick concrete.
The beauty of the robots struck me. I was haunted by their lifelike behavior. In her email, Handrick mentioned a robot had completed 24 deliveries in 16 hours without human oversight. I wondered if it had felt proud of itself. I wondered if it knew it was supposed to be on Mars collecting sediment instead of in Flagstaff delivering burritos. I wondered what would happen when it died, like its brother I saw drowned in snowmelt a year before.
The next day, defeated and distraught, I dragged myself down the same tree-lined path I had walked a year ago. I passed the same trench where I saw the robot that had sparked my obsession. I crossed the concrete bridge leading to my apartment building and watched the robots and humans travel alongside each other on the street below me. A cyclist flew by, interrupting my train of thought.
The bicycle dragged a trailer behind it, which held none other than a defunct Starship robot. It was my deus ex machina: my sixwheeled, metal-clad savior.
Just as quickly as my heart jumped and my hand reached for my camera, the bicycle turned a corner and disappeared. I followed and found a garage under the du Bois Center. I entered with caution, eying the stocked shelves and piled scraps around me. While I saw no sign
telling me not to enter, I saw no indication of robotic presence either.
I advanced toward a dimly lit hallway lined with offices. In the distance, a rug donned the Starship logo, and behind that was a robottopped bicycle. I turned my camera’s shutter to its “quiet” setting and approached in the manner one would use with a feral cat, slowly and silently creeping.
I then encountered Bersain Mendoza, a startled yet exceedingly kind field assistant who, for some reason, let me into his workspace. I explained to him I was a journalist investigating the mystery behind Starship robots, and I had followed his bicycle as part of my pursuit.
As a field assistant, Mendoza rescues robots by bike and brings them back to the Starship Hub for repairs. When a robot needs maintenance, Mendoza receives a notification from an international team of remote technicians who assist in monitoring and troubleshooting the robots.
Mendoza said the on-site and remote technicians sometimes play practical jokes to lighten the mood.
“Some of the people that work on the robots online, they like to send little commands to the robots, and they dance around the hallway and play music,” Mendoza said.
The Starship Hub was a tiny room lined with robots in varying states of dismantlement. Some were intact but attached to chargers or had their hoods open. Others were completely taken apart, their wires and circuits exposed. The outer shell of one robot sat dormant on the top of a shelf.
Mendoza said his role ranges from regular maintenance, which includes cleaning the inside of the robots or charging them, to fixing broken parts. The most common repairs are on the flags or tires. More complicated situations require the robots to be fixed abroad.
“They’re just another passerby, just another person on the sidewalk,” Mendoza said. “They’re really cool and really silly sometimes.”
I was shocked by how open and willing Mendoza appeared to be while answering my questions after I stalked him into Starship’s secret lair. Maybe I was just caught off guard by experiencing a positive human interaction at all.
I had been living on a screen for weeks — only communicating through email and Zoom calls — to the point where my only real-life conversations were with the Starship robots I had found myself talking to on walks around campus.
After experiencing the robot workshop first-hand, my obsession was satiated. Mendoza’s joyful energy juxtaposed with the surrounding robot corpses reminded me these were not living organisms but metal boxes full of wires.
I was stuck in this world of automated beings and I had lost myself in their mechanisms. I needed to get back in touch with reality — with human life. I no longer cared about robot mortality.
As I exited the du Bois Center basement, the sunlight and fresh air struck me like a released prisoner emerging from my mental journalistic dungeon. I walked home and finally got a full night of sleep, my dreams free from the haunting specter of robot spirits.
Editor’s note: This story is a satirical narrative portraying actual events that occurred during my investigation of Starship robots on campus. While every referenced person and incident is real, several details are exaggerated for comedic effect.