The VISTA - Fall 2017

VISTA MAGAZINE FALL, 2017 | ISSUE 115

ENCOUNTER

EDITOR’S NOTE

Dear reader,

The Vista has existed at Greenville since 1904. It began its time as the school’s yearbook in 1910, and was poured into by countless students for over a century. In recent years, The Vista has transitioned into its role as a magazine. With its name literally meaning “a pleasing view” or “a succession of remembered or anticipated events,” The Vista served a snapshot of each school year and life at Greenville College.

We on the current team of the magazine version of The Vista desire to continue pursuing the idea that our publication is a view. This semester, we decided to branch out with both our content and our designs, hoping to give a new purpose to the magazine.

Instead of continuing to view The Vista as yearbook-esque, focusing on the events and culture of the university specifically, we want to expand our view to one of the world. This edition is a collection of thought pieces on our current culture, our lifestyle choices, our faith, our role in the human race, and the state of our hearts. These articles focus on encounters. Encounters define our human experience — encounters with nature, people, religion, art, heartache, joy, beauty, and destruction. There are many ways in which we encounter the world as

students, as faculty, as men, as women, as people of various ethnic backgrounds, as Christians; yet we are all confined by our shared human condition. We ask you to consider: how do we encounter the world and why?

I hope you find these articles insightful; I hope that they can give you a new view on an old topic, or a chance to ponder something that you may never have before. Whatever this issue means to you, I hope The Vista can continue to serve as a view—whether it be of our community here at Greenville University, or our role in our greater culture.

Your editor, Mandy Pennington

Lisa Sharpe Advisor

love in

action page 9

Skin Stories:

Finding

Letter-Writing:

Identity

A Lost Art Form

In Ink

page 15 Jack Dawdy Visual editor

Mandy Pennington Content Editor

page 23

What do our

dreams

Damien Cantrell Web designer

Ben Casey Writer

The

mean?

Activity Mary Krauss Writer

Carrie Baker Writer

Alli Haug Designer

Dale Shelbourne Photographer

Quntion Brown Photographer

Heather Lawrence Photographer

of

God

page 29

page 35

The

Science

of Inspiration page 41

Josiah moore Writer

Abi Hillrich Writer

Jonathan Bremer Designer

Taylor harpster Designer

Krystyn Ewing Designer

Garrett Streeter Designer

O S IT’S

I recently paid $100 to see a movie in a theater. I bought the ticket, drove to

Chicago, made a wrong turn at Fullerton, and arrived at the theater a half hour early to reserve a seat for my 3-digit cinema extravaganza.

GOOD:

THE MEDIA WE LOVE TO HATE BEN CASEY

The movie was awful. The plot meandered left and right, introducing new characters in nearly every scene only to discard them a scene later. The special effects were pitiful, looking like something I could whip up in my backyard after an afternoon at the dollar store. It was a foreign film as well and was dubbed awfully, the dialogue twisted and contorted to line up with lips that were never meant to hold those syllables. I don’t think I could have made a worse movie if I tried. t was worth every penny.

It wasn’t just a bad movie, of course. It was a stage show based on the hit television series Mystery Science Theater 3000 (MST3K). The show featured live sketch comedy, a Q&A with the creator of MST3K Joel Hodgson, and three comedians riffing over an absolutely atrocious movie.

For those who don’t know, the premise of Mystery Science Theater 3000 is that an average joe is trapped in a spaceship where two evil scientists send him bad movies in the hopes he’ll go crazy. A ridiculous premise that was wonderful to see recreated on stage. But after laughing along with an entire audience, I started to wonder: Why were these awful movies so enjoyable? What makes something so bad, it’s good?

At first, the answer seemed obvious: People watch bad movies because they like to laugh at them. It’s ironic, part of the hipster-ethos of the past decade and a half.

But that misses something important. Fans of bad movies don’t just watch the movies.

They are called “cult classics” for a reason.

A film attains cult status when it achieves a loyal following of a select few and these bad movies have that in spades.

What makes fans so dedicated to these movies? Why do people take such joy in finding every bizarre little detail in them?

Why do fans of the movie The Room attend midnight screenings and throw plastic spoons at the screen during the many times a framed picture of spoons appears in the background?

There is a clear line between movies that are just bad and movies that are bad—that gain attention, reputation and, strangely enough, acclaim and fanfare.

In the book In the Peanut Gallery with Mystery Science Theater 3000, Rick Sloane writes on how MST3K took his unsuccessful film Hobgoblins and turned it into a cult classic. Sloane writes that “there isn’t a day that goes by when [he doesn’t] get at least a couple of emails from fans … telling [him] how much they love the film.”

These fans love that movie. Sloane himself relates, saying Hobgoblins was “heavily inspired by [his] love for really bad movies.”

Their enjoyment isn’t ironic or out of the need to demean or put down an easy target in bad films. They are not laughing at the pain bad media causes them. They are experiencing joy and positive emotions from bad movies.

According to a study titled “Enjoying trash films: Underlying features, viewing stances, and experiential response dimensions” published in the academic journal Poetics, the average viewer of trash films is welleducated and a “cultural omnivore” who often also enjoys art films. The study notes that the connection between “trash films” and “art films” may have something to do with the “transgressive nature” of both.

In this way, bad movies transcend labels of good and bad in art. Beyond the

preconceived notion of a movie being good or bad lies style. A bad movie without style, a conventional kind of awful, is forgotten. But a bad movie that breaks rules, that ignores what “should be” and what is normal, grows beyond its status of bad.

Art movies and Bad movies connect in their forsaking of what it means for a movie to be good and their embrace of their own unique styles. Birdemic shows almost as much disregard for how a movie “ought” to be as Eraserhead does, whether it intends to or not. The Room creates a surreal, dreamlike effect with its unbelievable dialogue and bizarre performances in much the same way Kubrick’s Eyes Wide Shut does.

Killer Klowns from Outer Space is often as visually stimulating as Terry Gilliam’s Brazil.

Each movie, art movie or bad movie, does something unique, something that few have ever seen or experienced.

This is what “so bad, it’s good” means. These cult classics have made every wrong stroke of the brush and created a painting no one has ever seen before. Like a sculpture made out of a car crash.

While a cultural love for bad movies may have begun with the veneer of irony or, as David Ray Carter puts it in MST3K’s From the Peanut Gallery, “a cinematic variation on the game of ‘chicken,’” it developed into a love for the transgressiveness of non-mainstream films.

Going back to the premise of Mystery Science Theater 3000, an average joe trapped in a spaceship with bad movies, those scientists thought the bad movies would drive him insane. Instead, he finds enjoyment in them. What should be painful is funny. What should be tedious is charming.

These are the things that allow bad movies to transcend into cult classics and camp masterpieces. This is what makes people quote Troll 2 and go to midnight screenings of The Room. Make sure to bring your spoons.

hipsters: y t i r o n i m w e n a Mandy Pennington

hipsters I’ve ever met, discovered himself at an even younger age. “When I was in second grade, I pointed out a cow in the background of a painting that no one else noticed and the teacher gave me a gold star. From then on, I was determined to notice the unnoticed. At 15, I got my braces off and got thick-rimmed glasses. It wasn’t long before I was buying used synthesizers over eBay and staying out late drinking novelty sodas and discussing favorite coffeehouses with the guys. My parents took it well, all things considered.

They’ve been supportive in getting me help for my synthesizer problem, and they enjoy the exotic loose-leaf tea I bring home.”

Rumors about the hipster culture have gotten out of hand, and it is now hard to

determine the legitimacy of many theories.

Many believe that there is a secret hipster cult that hipsters purposefully hide from the outside world. My suspicions were confirmed when asking multiple hipsters about this cult. Though both Jack and young hipster Benji Montany gave answers such as “No comment” and “I can’t tell you,” Ben Casey said, “Just look for almost-but-notquite Hawaiian shirts. We meet at sundown to chant quotes from Nathan Barley and exchange hummus recipes.” Javi, also, shared his “version” of the cult, “Every Thursday night is brother night, when we initiate new hipsters with a blood pact and excitedly chest bump our leader after her invigorating chant. Then we ride our mopeds our separate ways back to our basement apartments. But who doesn’t?” These stories don’t quite match up. So who was telling the truth? Are these hipsters just trying to throw us outsiders off the trail?

BEN CASEY While there are many minority groups here in the Great American Melting Pot—cue Schoolhouse Rock— the majority of hatred and disdain falls upon the hipster population.

Hipsters first surfaced in the 1940s, finally proud enough of their existence to share it with the world. The minority group has existed since the beginning of time, but, until the last century, hipsters have been shamed into hiding. These human beings only want to find a new way to enjoy life, coffee, and music, but their desire to be different has been condemned by everyone around the world.

JAVI JAMES Growing up as a hipster in modern America is a difficult ordeal. The experience of

admitting to their parents and friends that they identify as a hipster is life-changing but terrifying for adolescent hipsters. Hipster Javi James said, “I’ve known from my earliest memory that I was indeed a hipster. I’ve never known a life without my tight rolled jeans and suede. My parents were shocked at first when I told them that I preferred macchiatos over decaf, but they’ve come to accept me for who I am.” Other parents are

JACK DAWDY more immediately accepting of this drastic change in their child’s life. Jack Dawdy shared his experience, saying, “I didn’t really know it about myself until I was 17 years old, and it took me another two years to come out as ‘ster to my parents. I was nervous that they wouldn’t be accepting, but my mom just silently dusted off an old photo album and cracked it open. Inside were pictures of me, moments after being born, wearing raw denim, cuffed up to reveal my patterned socks. She said she’d known since that time.” Ben Casey, one of the most self-aware

Though the supposed hipster cult is just as speculated and unconfirmed as Illuminati theories, we do know about some established hipster organizations. Jack is a part of ‘Sters For a Cure: hipsters fighting against breast cancer, while Ben shared, “I’ve been going to Irony Anonymous for about a year now.

It’s been helpful in stopping me from deadpanning at an invisible camera whenever any misfortune happens to me.” Some hipsters find that even socializing with other hipsters is too mainstream for their taste. Benji said, “I have several friends who are part of various organizations, but I have yet to find one that fits my unique hipster needs. I’m sure there’s one for me somewhere. I just have

to keep looking.” Javi wouldn’t look me in the eye when answering this question, saying, “I wouldn’t be caught dead in an organization I didn’t create, unless it offered vegan brunches presented by servers wearing all leather.” Honestly, that sounds like an organization of which I’d be a fan.

One of the most famous aspects of hipster culture is its unique fashion. I took the time to explore the depth of thought that these hipsters put into their appearance every day.

Though usually unnoticeable to the human eye, hipsters claim that there are hundreds of different shades of black. Javi asserted that the optimal shade is “fuzzy band shirt black.”

Ben, on the other hand, said, “Personally, I prefer navy blue, since it’s the new orange, which is the new black.” Jack commented, “Isn’t that a goth thing?” Hipsters also put a good deal of time into shopping for the perfect skinny jean. Some feel more ready to share their skinny jean wisdom, while others just close up. When I asked Ben what size he wears, he answered, “I feel attacked right now. I can fit into 31s, I really can.” I wasn’t questioning you, Ben. Javi, on the other hand, shared with me his well-honed recipe for the perfect skinny jean. “The only way to get a perfect fit is to purchase tween bell bottoms, tie the leg holes to a Prius and the belt loops to a fire hydrant, hop in the Prius and drive exactly 6.5 miles per hour for two car lengths, take the jeans and pressure wash them with scalding water, and then let them dry in the Adirondacks.” Jack—with a sly look on his face—said, “Let’s just say my legs are permanently purple.”

I was curious about a typical day in the hipster life, so I asked my four young

friends to describe it to me. Ben, obviously frustrated, told me, “It looks really blurry because I can’t find my glasses right now.”

Humble, humble Benji told me that “it’s not that different from anyone else. We go to the same classes, breathe the same air. It’s all a mindset really; it’s how you perceive the world around you.” Jack, giving me another sly grin, said, “I go with the flow.

One time I ended up in Argentina because someone mistook me for their grandpa at the airport. We had the same outfit.” Jack’s idea of the hipster day seems very spontaneous!

Javi’s days, on the other hand, seem very methodical. “I wake up, listen to ABBA while

I apply my sideburns, then take my Prius to Whole Foods. During class I make sure I name-drop an indie band, and then go back to my pod and play an alpha version video game my nutritionist recommended, and get some shuteye.” Javi continued to tell me about his routine in specificity, obviously desperate to finally share what seems like a lonely lifestyle. “I spend my Friday nights at a new place that just opened up in the alley behind World Market. Occasionally a raccoon named River with a black spot on his right eye comes to visit and I share some pistachios with him. The place is all the rage, it’s called Waste Management.”

The hipsters, like many other minority groups, hope to pass down their traits and their legacy to their offspring. Jack—with tears in his eyes—said to me, “I really hope to pass down my love of waxed mustaches to my children, because I’ve never had the ability to grow one. Hopefully they’ll be able to hone that skill in my stead.” Ben has already written his will, and said without a second thought, “I’ll be passing down the hardrive to my computer, scrubbed to be PG.” Benji, fiery with passion, wishes to pass down his “loathing of the mainstream, especially in music. If it’s popular, then it’s garbage, period. Most people have poor taste in music, so when they all like something, it’s nearly always bad.” Javi, on the other hand, has high standards for his hypothetical descendants. “My children won’t be accepted unless their heads are the perfect circumference for Pharrel hats. That’s numero uno. A close second is that their first words must be ‘Phish is underrated.’”

I learned so much from talking to these kind hipster men, and feel I can now empathize better with their stories. Next time you see a hipster, shake their hand and tell them it’s going to be okay. They’ve been through hell and back since their very first sip of a cold brew, and they’ve made it through the fire.

Live on to the hipster generation—live on.

ON

SELF C A R E

&

Abi Hillrich

A simple definition of self-care is something done for you and by you. This strategy of taking care of yourself works to combat the reality in which we often care wfor others more than ourselves. Though being selfless is important, we tend to overdo it in many

Exercising is great for you. It keeps your body healthy and burns excess fats.

Exercising also affirms a regular sleep schedule and keeps your body functioning normally. It is even proven to improve mood and provide relaxation by stimulating chemicals in your brain.

Sleep

Meditation or Mindfulness Activities

I M P O R T A N C E

What is self-care?

Exercise

Getting enough sleep is a crucial part of your health, though it can be extremely difficult at particularly stressful times in the semester.

Being sure to get the required 7-8 hours of sleep most nights can provide you with new energy and keep you motivated.

ITS

Self-care is a term commonly tossed around everywhere we look—in blog posts, in conversation with friends, and all over social media. If you’re unfamiliar with what this term really means, all of the various information can be extremely overstimulating and confusing. Even if you know what selfcare is, it can be difficult to sort through all of the input to discover how to find the best form of self care for you. Hopefully this guide will give you a better idea of what it means to take care of yourself, and what actions you could take to benefit from this important human need.

What can I do for self-care?

ways. The extroverted, success-oriented ideal of American culture tends to push people further than they can handle. Selfcare is the act of taking time to figure out what you need, so you can be the best you can be.

The trend of self-care stems from the rise of consciousness of mental illness and introvertedness. When enough people started speaking up about their own personal struggles, it became evident that some sort of measures needed to be taken.

Self-care proved to be the best avenue, with obvious benefits and incredible results.

Taking good care of yourself is proven to reduce anxiety and improve mood, as well as physical health. It allows you to “recharge” and unload from whatever stress you may be experiencing.

Meditation allows you to attain control over your mental processes. Though extremely difficult at first, regular meditation reduces stress and increases happiness. It also increases self-awareness and concentration.

There are many meditative apps available that only require about 10 minutes of time a day (Headspace; Simple Habit; Stop, Breathe, & Think).

An Activity You Enjoy

Whether this means reading, going for a short walk outdoors, or listening to new music, taking a break and doing an activity you enjoy works wonders.

Healthy Eating

Eating healthy can be extremely important for keeping up your energy. A balanced diet that includes things like fruits, vegetables, and whole grains can also improve your mood and make you feel a lot better. (Another form of self-care is eating something that you really enjoy; do not be afraid to break the rules every once in awhile.)

There are so many great forms of self-care. It can be fun to experiment with multiple types to find out which one works best for you. The benefits of taking time to care for yourself are huge; self-care is an important development in how we view ourselves, and can be lifechanging. As someone who regularly takes time for myself, I encourage everyone to try self-care in order to discover how it can improve their life.

It isn’t supposed to be like this.

I know that you’re hurting. I know that you are confused and afraid, but most of all I know that you are in denial. You can’t reconcile with the idea that this person whom you would give your whole heart to, whom you’ve invested so much time and love into, isn’t giving you the love you deserve.

It doesn’t have to be a significant other.

Maybe it’s a friend, an acquaintance, or someone you’ve looked up to for as long as you can remember. The problem with toxic relationships is that you probably don’t know you’re in one, and by the time you realize it, the damage has already been done. You can never really prepare for the emotional hell that they will put you through.

I know this because I’ve been there and I’ve felt all of the things you’re feeling. One thing I’ve noticed during this phase of my journey is that I’ve encountered too many people who are trapped in toxic relationships.

So, if you’re there right now or you know somebody who is, let me be very transparent with you. If I could go back in time, these are the things I would tell myself, and these are the things I want you to hear.

Manipulation looks a lot like charisma.

They’re buying you gifts and showering you with compliments. Everything is going great and then it’s not…again. They start keeping score, they’re passive aggressive, they’re blaming you for their actions, they let their jealousy get the better of them, or they play mind games. They push you away, threatening to leave you alone, but then reel you back in—slowly but surely. Don’t let them fool you. Your heart isn’t something to be played with.

The pain is temporary.

Don’t be afraid to let go. If they’re threatening to walk away, let them. If you need to cut ties, snip away. You are surrounded by other people who will love you like you deserve and can treat you better than you’re being treated right now. I’m not saying it won’t be hard. It will hurt. Every part of your body will physically ache. But the people who cherish you won’t let you hurt for long.

You are not alone.

If there is one thing I’ve learned, it’s that toxic relationships don’t discriminate. If you ask the person next to you right now, they’ve probably been in one. The point is, you’re not the first to go through this experience, and unfortunately you won’t be the last. But what is more important than knowing you aren’t alone in experiencing toxicity is knowing that you aren’t alone in proximity.

It isn’t supposed to be like this.

This never-ending roller coaster that you feel like you’re on is meant to be the biggest thrill of your life. Your friends and loved ones are supposed to make you smile and cry because you’re laughing so hard. You shouldn’t be fighting back tears because you’re terrified or sick to your stomach because you can’t anticipate what is coming next. The truth is, relationships are a lot of work, but they aren’t supposed to drain you. Stop making excuses for them, because the ones you hold close are supposed to build you up, not tear you down.

You are not the problem.

I know you’re sitting here trying to cope with the physical and mental pains of heartbreak, while at the same time, blaming yourself because they keep telling you it’s your fault. If you would have tried harder, been a better friend, listened more, looked or loved differently, then you wouldn’t be struggling to keep this friendship or fighting for this relationship. But let me tell you something.

You can’t be everything to everyone. You are who you are and you shouldn’t have to change because it’s inconvenient for someone else.

TOXIC The Danger of a Hazardous Relationship Carrie Baker

PLANT

MOM Mary Krauss

Aren’t allowed to keep a pet in your dorm?

Can’t handle the cost of dog food? Too busy to keep up with fish that seem to constantly die on you? Well, fear no more: there’s an alternative for you. Instead of adopting a pet, you can adopt a plant! College students are low on money and resources, but desperate for love—and they can now find a cure for their loneliness in becoming a plant mom.

Growing plants is not only a cure for loneliness, but it’s also environmentally beneficial! There is a satisfaction in the knowledge that parenting your little plant is also saving the world. Plants can make a college student feel like they’re actually helping the environment at a stage of life in which they can’t have a garden or even recycle their own cereal boxes.

Not only do plants help students feel like tree-huggers, but they are now also super

trendy and make great accessories. Plants have become so popular in recent years that they can be found on everything, from cups and bowls to room decor and fashion accessories. Junior Paige Lunde said, “I had never thought of buying a plant until I was at Walmart. They were really cute, so I decided I liked them and bought two!” Because plants are so inexpensive, their purchase does not take much consideration. Paige and her friends now own cups and bowls to go along with their plants.

“

Miranda Coffee, mom of nine plants, said, “I have lots of plants! I started getting into them when my freshman-year roommate bought a few. After seeing them in our room, I fell in love. I keep them in mugs and little bowls mostly, but I have a few at home in fairy gardens. All I have to do to take care of them is spray a bit of water every so often, and keep them near sunlight to keep them happy.” Plants not only require little care, but they fill a room with life, and can be therapeutic and stress-relieving. It’s easy to see why people have fallen in love with these little companions.

I, myself, am a plant owner. I have five plants, and I love taking care of them. It’s a tradition of sorts that when a friend or I brings home a plant, we help each other pick out its name. Sometimes we’ll even paint the name of the plant on its pot, bowl, or mug.

The naming of these plants is generally the reason behind the term “plant mom.” No one likes to be alone, and I find it nice to look up at my window and see the little plants.

Plants are affordable, a nice pop of color, and make the room a little calmer and trendier.

The more plants the merrier, so find them for sale at a store near you. Become a plant mom today!

“

Plants can make a college student feel like they’re actually helping the environment

”

H

old on, just sit tight, and don’t you dare roll your eyes. I want to have a real, genuine discussion on the most significant—but also the most overused—word in the English language: love. I do not intend to have a conversation about love in the context of romance, as you may immediately assume, but as the ever-appropriate, universally applicable, divine and humanitarian action of love. Love can be a tricky word, but I’m asking you to move past its trivial application, its familiar application, and its romantic application so we can get to the ultimate expression of this powerful verb—its living application. Now, you and I both know that we could come up with a hundred different ways to express love in our daily lives.

All of those random individual expressions, however, are not what I want to discuss. What I want to discuss is not just living a life with love or even a life in love, but living a life of love, as an embodiment of the greatest of human and divine expressions.

I suppose at this point you are probably thinking that this discussion is far more vague and cerebral than you care to consider, but I would challenge you that this very applicable discussion has the potential to be all too relatable, not to your love life, but to your life of love. Finally, I must clarify that I claim no expertise in living a life of love, but I can say that I do have some observations and insights from my experiences that I challenge you to look for in your own.

Living a life of love is far more than a momentary decision or emotional response. Rather, it is a process that is not without effort. The first step is the internal expression of empathy. Our brains are amazing creations of unfathomable potential, one of greatest of which is our potential to embody—to a remarkable degree—the state of mind of another human being. Empathy, in its truest form, is the application of this ability to effectively mirror another’s emotional, mental, and sometimes even physical state at a cost to ourselves, taking on the pains and joys of another through shared or similar experiences. The degree to which this can occur is obviously dependent on each of our own life experiences, but none of us are outside of the whole of human experience, and we each have the ability to come, in empathy, to a place of yearning to understand the pains and joys of another person.

It is critical, however,

that the process of love does not end in empathy, for empathy is but the initial awareness necessary to inspire the activity that must follow. This next step, I believe, is the hardest step to take, for it is truly what living a life of love looks like rather than what it simply feels like. I can tell you from experience that even the most externally emotionless person can have the greatest capacity to empathize with others. However, most of us are all too comfortable to stop there, to watch pain unfold and think to ourselves or explain to our friends the sincere feeling of empathy we have for those suffering. It’s not that we don’t really care, for we truly do want to see them become a better person and end up in a better place

because of their experience. We often even wholeheartedly commit to adamantly pray that God works in their life through the experience.

Even if we really do follow through on our promise of prayer, we don’t realize that the work God could do in that person’s life may require our own involvement. It wasn’t really until some recent conversations with some friends of mine that I found myself all too often guilty of this deep yet unapplied love, because as much as we can internally empathize with someone else, that is not the action of love. This cannot be where love stops, for we have only just become aware.

So what, then, does it take to “love thy neighbor as thyself”

as Matthew 12:31 commands? What does it take to “carry each other’s burdens” as Galatians 6:2 requires? What does it take for us to truly, earnestly, yearningly, and actively love one another as 1 John 3:18 suggests? Love will not be comfortable, nor is it meant to be. The greatest example and definitive standard of love is the life of Jesus Christ, who established an entirely new paradigm for what it means to love. His time on earth, as the pure embodiment of love (1 John 4:8), changed the way we are expected to love each other. This is the risk and requirement of love: that we sacrifice everything—time, money, resources, status, or opportunities—all for the sake of others.

If we are to apply this sacrificial practice, let us look no further than 1 Corinthians 13. As cliche as “the love chapter” may be when it comes to relationships, it is without question the definitive explanation of what a life of love looks like in practice, not just for the hopeless romantics but for humanity as a whole. I could quote the whole chapter here, but I will let you take the initiative to read it as you see necessary, perhaps as a first step toward improving your own life of love. After all of the expectations for the practice of love have been laid out, a fascinating and challenging verse defines the result of love in 1 Corinthians 13:12. “For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I will know fully.”

The result of love is the deepest understanding of another person, meeting them “face to face” in the midst of their struggle, that you may “know fully,” through the lens of love, the perspective of another.

Let us then, together, take the time to become empathetically aware of the struggles around us, and then let us truly, with action in sacrifice, love each other.

“

IT IS CRITICAL, HOWEVER, THAT

THE PROCESS OF LOVE DOES

NOT END IN

EMPATHY,

FOR EMPATHY IS BUT THE INITIAL

AWARENESS

NECESSARY TO

INSPIRE THE

ACTIVITY THAT MUST FOLLOW.

Easy Dorm

SNACKS

There’s a point in college when you make a PB&J with 2 saltines and no jelly instead of going to the Dining Commons. There’s a point when you’ll have a family-sized bag of chips for dinner to save money. There’s also a point when you’ll miss class the next morning with a stomach ache because of your fateful dietary decisions.

But, dear students, this is not the life we must lead! There is a better way! When going out is too expensive and the Dining Commons turns your stomach, you can turn to yourself. With only a microwave and some silverware at your disposal, you can create healthy snacks and meals in the comfort of your own dorm.

Chicken Fajitas

Ben Casey

First, some rules for my recipe recommendations: each recipe will have no more than five ingredients, will cost no more than 25 dollars, and will be made using only a microwave, blender, bowl, plate, and silverware. With these rules, we can ensure that even the most illprepared freshman football player who has never set foot in a kitchen can keep themselves sustained.

Chia Pudding Strawberry-Banana Smoothie Ingredients: - 1 banana

- 2 cups strawberries

- 1 cup milk

- 6-7 ice cubes

- 10 oz greek yogurt If you’re one of the dozen college students considering eating breakfast, a smoothie is a great time-saver. Take two cups of strawberries and cut off the stems. Personally, I like to freeze my strawberries overnight. Next, slice a banana into pieces. Take these and the rest of your ingredients and put them in a blender on a high setting. Pour your delicious smoothie into a cup and enjoy.

Poached Egg Ingredients: - 1 egg

- Salt & pepper

- ½ cup water Here’s an easy way to make a poached egg in a microwave! Crack your egg into a bowl, pour half a cup of water into it and cover it with plastic wrap. Poke some holes in the top of the plastic wrap and put the bowl in the microwave on high for 1 minute. Throw away any excess water, add some salt and pepper, and you have yourself a quick breakfast!

Ingredients: - ⅓ cup chia seeds

- 1 ½ cups milk

- 1 half tbsp of sweetener (sugar, syrup, honey, etc.)

For this one, you’ll need a jar with a lid, or something to cover whatever cup you’re using. I’ve heard of some people using empty Gatorade bottles for this with mixed results. Take your chia seeds, your milk, and your sweetener and put them all in your container.

Next, put on “Hey Ya!” by Outkast and shake your container until all of the ingredients are mixed together. Put it in the fridge for at least four hours and you’ll have some delicious pudding with the consistency of applesauce.

Avocado Toast Ingredients: - 1 slice bread

- 1 half-ripe avocado

- 1 tbsp cheese

- Salt and pepper

- 1 tbsp butter or olive oil I’m both a vegetarian and a millennial so it was literally impossible to make this list without avocado toast taking a well-deserved place on it. Take a slice of bread and put it in the microwave for 30 to 60 seconds. Next, cut your avocado into small pieces and begin mashing them on the bread. Sprinkle some shredded cheese on top and add a bit of olive oil or butter. Now you only need to enjoy your toast and figure out how you’re going to pay back the massive loan you took out to buy that avocado.

Caprese Sandwiches Ingredients: - 1 baguette

- 1 tomato

- Basil leaves

- Olive oil This is a recipe my girlfriend gave me and she is a liar. I’m sorry. These are NOT sandwiches, despite what the name implies. What they are, however, is delicious. Cut your baguette into single-serving pieces.

Next, slice your tomato as thin as you can handle. Now, take a single basil leaf and place it on the bread, putting the tomato on top. Drizzle olive oil over the top for an easy, healthy snack that is definitely NOT a sandwich.

Ingredients: - 1 tortilla

- 1 boneless chicken breast

- 1 tbsp chunky salsa

- Shredded cheese

- 1 lemon Despite my delicate vegetarian sensibilities, I knew I needed at least one snack for all you omnivores out there. Take a pre-cooked chicken breast and cut it into strips. Put it in a bowl and pour salsa on top.

Add as much shredded cheese as you like and mix it all together.

Squeeze your lime into the bowl, making sure you get a lot of its juice onto the chicken. Put the bowl in the microwave on high for 12 to 15 minutes. Take it out and let it sit while you microwave your tortilla for 30 seconds. Pour the mix onto your tortilla, fold it in half, and chow down on your makeshift meal!

3-Ingredient Vanilla Ice Cream Ingredients: - 1 pt whipped cream

- 14 oz sweetened condensed milk

- 2 tsp vanilla extract As an apology for calling my girlfriend a liar earlier, I’m going to make her some homemade ice cream with this three-ingredient recipe. First, pour your pint of whipped cream into a bowl and mix it until it has stiff peaks. Next, add in your condensed milk and vanilla and mix those all together as well as you can. Pour the mix into a freezer-safe container and cover the top, leaving it to freeze for at least four hours. Now you have your perfect apology dessert!

Frozen Peanut Butter Squares Ingredients: - Peanut butter Okay, this barely counts as a recipe, since you only really need peanut butter and your hands. In order to make frozen peanut butter squares, you take peanut butter and shape it into a square. That is where the square part comes in. You might be asking, “But wait, what about the frozen part in the recipe?” Very observant of you! After we form our squares, we put them in the freezer for at least four hours to freeze them. You can repeat this process while mixing in chocolate syrup or Nutella for a little extra deliciousness.

Potato Chips Ingredients: - 1 potato

- 1 tbsp olive oil You’ve heard of microwave popcorn, but what about microwave potato chips? Take a potato and slice it as thinly as you can. Next, fill a plastic bag with olive oil and put in your potato slices. Shake until your potato slices are coated in oil. Next, take a plate and put a small amount of oil on it. Take your potato slices out of the bag and put them on the plate, putting it in the microwave for three to five minutes. Once you’re done, you should have crispy potato chips to chomp on!

Pizza Rolls Ingredients: - 1 tortilla

- 2 tbsp pizza sauce

- 12 leaves baby spinach

- 3 tbsp mozzarella cheese Someone somewhere woke up and thought, “Pizza needs to be more portable!” Thank you, whoever you are. This on-the-go snack starts by taking a tortilla and spreading pizza sauce on it. Next, cover the tortilla in baby spinach leaves and cover the whole thing in cheese.

Put it in the microwave for 30 to 45 seconds, until the cheese is just slightly melted. Carefully roll up your tortilla and cut it into pieces.

Add pepperoni or green peppers and onion or any other pizza topping you like for more options.

So next time the Dining Commons turns your stomach sour or your room is too comfy to leave for the night, remember these treats to keep your stomach full and your palate satisfied.

THE

J O U R N E to getting YOUR F Y IRST BOOK PUBLISHED Ben Casey

You’ve written a book. It took months, years even. Let’s say it’s a mystery crime novel called The Mystery of Crimetown. You spent so many late nights typing out The Mystery of Crimetown, going to bed only to daydream about what happens next in your book. You drafted, then redrafted, then edited, then edited some more and now you’re done. The only thing left for you to do with your book is to get someone to read it.

Very few large publishers take submissions straight from the author. If you want The Mystery of Crimetown to get the respect it deserves, you’ll need to find yourself a literary agent. A literary agent represents a writer’s work to publishers in the hopes that one of those publishers picks up the book.

They might represent only ten other authors or be part of a literary firm that represents hundreds of authors.

So you google ‘book publishers’ and find a few. Penguin Group, Hachette Book Group, Random House, HarperCollins, etc. But for some reason, you can’t find a place on any of their websites to submit something. The few that do have open submissions get them by the thousands and take as much as a year to get back to you—if they read it at all.

So you google ‘literary agent’ and find a few thousand. Wow. You see LinkedIn pages, Twitter accounts, websites, and blogs. You see promises of national distribution with “only 100 dollars down payment!” How can you tell the amateur from the professional, the scam from the real deal?

start here

Here’s a tip: drive down to your local

bookstore and look for a new release that is the same genre as your book. Look on the inside and see if the author thanks a literary agent in the beginning.

You wander into your local bookstore, Books-R-Cool, and stumble across a new mystery crime novel called The Crimes of Mystery City. You frown at the title being so close to the title of your book, but as you open the cover, you find a name written in the acknowledgments. “Special thanks to my literary agent Chad Chadson for getting this book published!”

A google search later and you’ve found a website for Chad Chadson, the literary agent who specializes in mystery crime novels.

Chad Chadson, like most good literary agents, doesn’t charge you anything for his services. If Chad likes your story, he’ll shop it around to publishers and take 10 to 15 percent of whatever money that publisher gives to you.

You’re getting ready to send your book to Chad when you realize you don’t even know how to send it in. Should you give him the whole book? Should you give him a section or a summary of the book?

The process of sending your book to an agent or publisher is known as querying.

A query for a fiction book involves a “hook” to get readers interested, followed by a short summary that includes information like the book’s length and reading level. Generally, these queries should be one page long.

Rather than sending them your book, send them the query. If they’re interested, they’ll find you and ask you for your book.

LITERARY AGENT

WRITE A BOOK

HOW DO you WANT your BOOK PUBLISHED? Self publishing

It just so happens that Chad Chadson is interested in publishing another crime mystery novel! What luck! You send him your novel and wait in nervous anticipation.

It takes a few days for you to get an email back. Your heart drops. “Sorry, I don’t think this book is a good fit for me,” says Chad.

You hang your head dejectedly before an idea springs into your head. Why do you need a publisher at all? You can publish The Mystery of Crimetown online on your own and market it yourself!

You’ll have more creative control and get all the say in how your book is marketed. Plus you’ll be able to keep all the profits you earn off of the book! You wonder why anyone bothers with traditional publishing anymore.

You start marketing your book. It takes months, even years before you have a small reader base on the internet of a hundred or so who follow the consistent updates you put out for your Crimetown series. You spend late nights looking for ad space online, researching demographics, posting your book on social media, and going to bed only to wonder if boosting your Facebook posts is really worth it. You promote, you market, you promote some more, you keep promoting, and after that, you promote your book again.

You find yourself exhausted. You find your bank account emptying as you take time off your day job to try to sell ad space on your blog.

Self-publishing seems to cost a lot of time with little reward. You wonder if you should send queries to booking agents or smaller publishers again.

Whether The Mystery of Crimetown would be more successful self-published or traditionally published, that’s on you—the author—to decide. No matter what path you take, it is no easy road. Self-publishing has you doing all the work of writing, promoting, and funding your book. That’s not a luxury everyone can afford. The traditional route of publishing involves the soul-crushing experience of getting rejected by multiple publishers and literary agents. That’s not a hardship everyone can withstand.

Both of these routes might seem like impossible hurdles to you. But if you have a story to tell, you can get over them. A good story and the drive to tell it will get your book out there, no matter what path you choose.

congrats! your literary agent will handle it from here

Accepted DENIED QUERYING

FIND A LITERARY AGENT WHO PUBLISHES BOOKS OF YOUR GENRE

FIND SOMEPLACE ONLINE TO PUBLISH YOUR BOOK

Create a marketing campaign

Create new content sell ad space for your website

S HOPE PEOPLE Promote your posts READ YOUR BOOK on facebook

Dear Reader, L

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Tyler Thorpe, junior

“ A Lost art form You are living in a time when letter-writing is on its deathbed.

“I got one from my grandpa when I was at school in Tennessee my freshman year. He told me how much he loved me and how I was the son that he never had. He told me I was his best friend and that he was proud of the man of God I was becoming. It meant a lot because I received it during the hardest time in my life and it gave me hope to keep pushing on and striving to be the best I could be, and to pursue God with everything I have. It showed that he took the time and effort to type it out and mail it instead of sending it instantly. I am glad he did, because if it would have gotten there three days earlier, it would not have had as much impact or meaning as it did.”

D ear Rea

d er,

RECEIVING A LETTER IS LIKE RECEIVING A PIECE

OF A PERSON’S LIFE, AND

The beginning of its demise came with the THATby THEYthe WROTE IT. invention of the telephone, followed “ computer, the internet, e-mail, and the cell phone. This is a mournful death, as letters were a huge part of our history as human beings, and a beautiful expression or ourselves. The immediacy of texting and email is compelling and useful in most situations, but has slowly been strangling Mandy P letter-writing out of the picture. en

e thbed. Th on its dea lephone, is g n ti ri w te letterf the vention o me when ing in a ti e came with the in ail, and the cell v li re a u is -m Yo f our of its dem internet, e uge part o You w beginning the computer, the , as letters were a h of ourselves. il by having l always rem ful death autiful expression in rn followed l u o fu m se u a e d is e p b n a is a h g d T . n in e a down en-pals, w mber the le t of phon ings, ompell hether the str tt writing ou human be ting and email is c rs e a tt ry le to g e is they w ers you rec me th h et, or n pushin y of tex e c e r ia b g o d e i ly u r m w l g o s I’d nev ere little gi eive. I grew The im has sl me co h a pen-p rls e u tions, but nnecte a a tu l si p st r o ogram r met who w who just liv p m d in ti Hearin modern . y . n ed e W m a re r g n tu e e a r ic me ger th the p is a co another pe s when I w iting these paired wit much lon ecades has it beco h d n h r l m a u s e s o ro t p a t n l e d l g n o e ’s s u rs k o ne ee te the sa layed thro the last tw ting has b me th ly transform tory in inten ly or felt fri ept Letter-wri However, only in man history was re uch about the r e a o tional ndless early e tive ex ugh em y. hu ,w . v p k of ught us m technolog lete. Much of our check ery mornin ail or text. erience tha ritten form ers has ta es. We can all thin m tt le so f b o o n y o I g g t ti o t a r a h fr j a e e u rv nearl e rs n m th e s se t tt d m t re u e isn m ru ai in my ones, le d the p rougho friend l, waiting an nning down ber getting ’t letters, an vities of people th te to their beloved ers that have u s’ live x ti tt t c h i ro le a o w e u fe — rs li d s s. ly for rivewa p realay soldie r founding fathers ures. w a t rh y to fa M e rs next u y dad and ou the lette rical fig pdate wrote to queens e view these histo c ts n o m e l d a l si eal ege, pre g, or yw like a son ed the wa was p telling me etter when transform letter was tion. The depth r A o . u rm d fo of me how much I first starte advice inten an art d , giv he , and sed to be d with thought and ure. Keeping in u rs e tt le sharin ing me som loved me a mom Writing easier, ting cult ompose x c d g te nd n l, u t a e e n r h v s e e o e i m rr n st s a cu u hopes yes, fa on gia d to have poem, or s been lost in our for my ch-needed tances is, g. Romance has a n is d l t l g a c n o h a lo s f rds fut m boyfri of word ath for nes from ntion and meanin ends w for my birt y friends w ure. My h loved o baited bre rt in rite no hday. r b o touch wit the nuance of inte waiting days with a e e t c h e f a o m use Ma tes e f st aring those even if I ha letters. I’ve ny of my but has lo changed; instead o g of love and a sh sn’t respond to e n peopl k v o ri ly d e u e te r o p n e le tp p t th ’t u o m o t e, I sti hem a stayed nt co of the an ll h ll, a significa surely be in lo what will get annoyed when love th ve that was ave tangible touch with e . w a rs o e r, u t e n o v tt h w c i f le de et o as and a he r a couple the past. T is part here, and t nce our text fo he of my arrive from ipient time to y S e o th , t a I story. encou e rec ers is th th n tt o s le e ti f c iv r o u g a r d e e s g re g o e you meon pow the han Part of the e taken in the exc in a moment, and ing a piece fancy. e. Today. It to write a le iv tim sk e a f c b o re to th e do T tt g k y e n t li it le is en un is sick ll them abo esn’t have er to an opport . Receiving a letter indset of the mom to be a u respond, m n t re n d u h ow yo barf fr e froze -go cult ection is om th u had to cle your cat of a go-go ’s life and heart in th cal notation of aff tter is a e a le this st n ysi range carpet. Tell n up their of a perso ey wrote it. The ph nd in friendship. A back at the encou them a k th s o e c o h lo n ic m s a h to e m k w d e abo ro sa n o se in p u te n in my kee ed, both in rish, and deepe e at Wendy r you had w ut undervalu g to keep and che ve a box of letters I loved. It’s not ’s s t i . in ha at care. Ju, darkest se Or share y th people th st a form of tangible th claration of love. I d c n o a r u s e fe t li t y e lo long h write. Tak s, I don’t r physical d me of periods of m r phone. We have d our stories. e i s p t o u a d n r o a r in y y t in th of lett practi that rem tionships a text on e ers ce d our rela as saving Your l of artful co and the the same tion that influence e m t a t e p ic r n o s will more commu mea sition. to you m your loved n much ight th ones t ink. han

You r s,

nington

Cammi Rockey, senior

“My best friend Laney and I used to send actual letters back and forth all the time when we were younger. They were full of random thoughts that most people would text, but we always took the time to write letters to each other. For my birthday this year she sent me a physical letter just talking about how far we’ve come and how, since we’ve been friends so long, we’ll always be friends, no matter what. We kind of did it for tradition. We started writing letters before we had phones or emails, and then kept doing it because that’s what we’ve always done. With texting, you can answer absentmindedly or on the go, but with letters you actually have to sit down and focus. It’s more special because you can have those letters forever, too. Texts can be erased, but I still have the very first letter she sent me when I was seven.”

Beth Richardson, senior

“I got one from my roommate, Erin, after I came back from choir tour my sophomore year. She knew that I was exhausted and wanted to make my day. I think letter-writing is important because it shows the time put into the communication, and there’s just something about seeing someone’s handwriting that makes it more personal. You can physically feel where that person’s pen made indents in the paper.”

HEART IN THE

MOMENT

Jasmine Webber, sophomore

“When I moved to Greenville, each of my family members handwrote a letter and hid it in my room. I was finding notes all of my first semester and it was amazing!”

Allison Benton, freshman

“In seventh grade, my English teacher gave me a book to read that helped me get through some tough times, and afterwards she wrote me a letter. It was very special to me because I got to keep it instead of just taking a screenshot of it or saving it to my notes on my phone.”

Randy Mueller, senior

“During my freshman year at Greenville, I wrote this letter that was identical to the one Harry Potter got when he was accepted into Hogwarts, and sent it to a friend that I knew was really into Harry Potter. I left it in her campus mailbox. She didn’t know it was me until years later.”

Kalei Swogger, sophomore

“I’ve received so many letters that have meant a lot to me; the ones that stick out most are the letters I received from my dad while he was deployed in Iraq. They remain special to me because they carried his presence and his security home to me. His encouragement gave me strength to believe that I could face the challenge of each day.”

Devin Chaney, super-senior

“Before Ashley and I were married, when I lived on campus, we sent letters to each other all the time. I saved most of them; they’re still in a box in my basement somewhere. They usually included stuff that was going on at home in her life and in our friends’ lives.

Receiving a surprise letter was always a super sweet way to know that I was missed and loved.”

gallery TABITHA RICE agape I do not know your name.

I know not where you live.

I know nothing of your past, But I know that you give.

You’ve given me much Though we had but a moment.

It took only a hug To show me what love meant.

We were instructed to greet each other That day in chapel, And all I was expecting was a handshake.

Instead you hugged me, And your daughter did too.

This showed me that love Just pours out of you.

To hug a girl you’ve only just met Is to show a love beyond measure.

I want to live a life like yours, To spread love like a treasure.

You showed me who I want to be, The woman who hugs sad girls like me.

MANDY PENNINGTON WEATHER MOODS. sometimes I’m arrogant enough to think the sky is weeping for me when it rains and I cry alone I weep for the sky, and it weeps for me. but a much bigger view reveals that I am much too small for something as big and blue to be crying for me it’s not crying for you either but I am. the sun shines and I think of it shining when we danced through the park just like a movie like slow-motion laughter and feet in the pond and forevers and nevers spilling out of our mouths like a waterfall we couldn’t reign in but ended up drowning us.

BEN CASESY GARDEN

when the sun hides its face behind a mask of gray I think of the days when we curled up inside with hot chocolate and The Princess Bride on a small laptop screen warm socks and warm hands your hands in my hair, my hair in my face.

All to his lonesome blisters; singes my eyelashes, saps my weather.

The clouds look the same in the summer, I never noticed how much same. I think he loves me

but how can the placement of the sun beat me like a slavedriver? the sun is just a star, far far away and I have my own life now.

since his heel blocks the

gate, his eyes ask for tending.

Oh eyes black and swollen and tumbling to the floor where they tell me I am hungry but need nothing to eat and I don’t miss a metaphorical summer and dirt won’t graze the soles of my feet.

and I came to the conclusion through growing strong and weeks of weeping that nothing weeps for me.

I am my own, and nature can do nothing the sun just looks on me with apathy.

but the season is wrong and my eyes water and there’s too much rain for the bed.

I came back today and he held me like a flower by the throat.

QUINETEN BROWN

but I stay indoors just in case I start to feel things my room is cozy and almost as warm as the sun, or your arms and it’s all I need. but then one day my armchair began to weep for me as I sat in it engulfed me in its arms until it was suffocating me and it struck me like a passing thought, a simple “ah” I realized that I couldn’t breathe.

ETHAN CHI

CHRISTIANS AND SECULAR MEDIA BEN CASEY

I always thought that the Sunday school song “Oh Be Careful Little Eyes” was a Bible verse. I’m embarrassed to say that I only

Whether or not it’s a sin to watch certain kinds of media, it can be unbeneficial to living in Christ.

“O be careful little eyes what you see O be careful little eyes what you see For the Father up above Is looking down in love So, be careful little eyes what you see”

So how do Christians decide what is “unbeneficial”? When boycotts of movies and theaters caught on in the 1940s and 50s, this was the term that many Christian groups—like the Catholic Legion of Decency, the Women’s Christian Temperance Union, and the Better Movie Movement—used to describe any movie that featured marijuana, alcohol, non-traditional gender roles, violence, and a myriad of other “vices” deemed condemnable. Some even banned film altogether.

just found out it isn’t. Whenever I went to a movie, I could always count on my mom to text me:

Being as familiar as I was with it, I assumed the tune’s lyrics came from a Bible verse, but no—it’s only a hymn written sometime in the 1940s.

It was that Sunday School song that went through my head when I stumbled upon a blog post on The Gospel Coalition. The post was titled, “I Don’t Understand Christians Watching Game of Thrones.” In the post, the author calls out Christians for watching the television show, citing its explicit sexual content. But oddly enough, there isn’t one word about violence, except “violent sex.”

Why wasn’t the author concerned with the show’s displays of murder, revenge, torture, and sadism? Why weren’t they concerned with displays of greed, pride, drunkenness, or other sins?

Adhering to this idea that viewing sin in media is inherently sinful, can Christians watch any media with a clear conscience?

How many movies, books, or TV shows are there that don’t display some form of unrepentant sin? After all, during the time that “O Be Careful Little Eyes” was written, there were plenty of Christians boycotting almost all movies.

How do Christians discern what secular media is okay and what should be avoided?

The Bible is pretty clear that Christians should have some kind of method of discernment.

Matthew 6:22 says, “The eye is the lamp of the body. So, if your eye is healthy, your whole body will be full of light.” In the same way, 1 Corinthians 10:23 states, “All things are lawful, but not all things are helpful. All things are lawful, but not all things build up.”

However, many of the fears these groups had were rooted in fear of change, not fear of God. Maybe a group called the Legion of Decency isn’t a good role model for discernment, considering their name makes them sound like cheap comic book villains.

So who should the Christians of today look to?

Pastor and acclaimed author John Piper looks to 1 Peter 1:15, stressing that the media we consume should express or advance our holiness. He condemns shows like Game of Thrones for their nudity, writing, “Violence on a screen is make-believe; nobody really gets killed. But nudity is not make-believe.

These actresses are really naked in front of the camera.”

However, there’s a problem with this view, too. Nudity is not a sin. And the sex on the show isn’t real in the same way the violence isn’t. Sometimes, the sex on Game of Thrones is between a married couple. Is this sinful?

In the Middle Ages, it used to be common practice for the family and friends of a married couple to witness the consummation of the marriage. Even Martin Luther asked his good friend Jonas to be present in the bedchamber during his wedding night. Being present during sex was once not considered inherently sexual or lustful. How is it that now the naked body always inspires lustful thoughts? How is it that a Christian who feels they might be tempted can’t look away or

fast forward through those parts? And let’s be honest here, we have the internet. If someone wanted to watch porn, they’d watch porn. If they’re watching Game of Thrones, I doubt it’s for sexual reasons.

Pastor John Pease wrote his own article on the show, praising its story and themes, saying, “[Game of Thrones] expects its heroes to see that there may be good worth fighting for, but it has to be done with a humble recognition of your own weakness and a wide-eyed awareness of the world’s brokenness.”

So, Game of Thrones is okay for Christians to watch?

I don’t know.

When my older brothers were eight and 10 respectively, my mother did not let them play the video game Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles IV: Turtles in Time because it lets your character use weapons to attack people.

When I was about their age, she didn’t bat an eye as I shot down aliens in Halo 2.

Standards change. Discernment for media and art isn’t something Jesus laid out on a list. It’s something personal that you have to decide for yourself, informed by your faith, the Bible, and trusted spiritual leaders like John Piper or John Pease. It’s something that should be ever-evolving through your life along with your faith.

Christians are not called to build a bubble around themselves and only consume Christian media. Neither are they called to immerse themselves in worldly things, blurring any distinction between themselves and the world. Just as we’re careful of what our little eyes see, we’re careful not to blind ourselves from reality.

LA VIDA

MADRILEÑA: ADVENTURES IN MADRID

Summer

Mengarlli

“

TRAVELERS USUALLY

I

t was 7:30 on a Thursday evening, and the green line metro was packed. I had grabbed a seat when a commuter vacated it a few stops before, and now I was sandwiched between a man in a suit talking on the phone and a woman with her two small children.

Across from me, a college-aged guy pulled a copy of El Cantar del mio Cid from his backpack, and after the next stop he was joined to his left by a middle-aged woman holding a ragged book with a torn cover. Before she opened her book, she took a lengthy glance over the student’s shoulder at what he was reading. He didn’t notice her, and a few minutes later she didn’t notice him when he paused to gaze at the book in her lap.

I thought about all the times I had sat on the metro and read from the copy of Persuasion I found in a secondhand English bookstore in Malasaña, and I wondered how many times someone sitting next to me had glanced over at the pages and taken note of the English text. I am keenly aware, every time I step onto the metro or hurry to find a seat on the bus before the driver jerkily pulls away from the curb, that nothing about my immediate appearance would signal to the other passengers that I am not native to Spain. I think I lost the anxious, hurried expression of a tourist within my first couple of weeks in Madrid—there is no real reason to stress about getting lost, especially not on the metro. No matter where I am in Madrid, I only need to get off at a stop that coincides with the purple line, number nine, and I’m on my way home.

This particular evening, I wasn’t reading, although the podcast I was listening to was in English. The businessman to my right stood up to wait for his stop and I slid to the inside of the bench, balancing my yoga mat on my feet so it wouldn’t touch the floor of the train.

Someone sat down next to me and thanked me; as I responded, de nada, I wondered if my accent was strong enough to announce my status as a foreigner through that short phrase.

I got off at the Chueca stop, where every wall was painted rainbow, and walked up the stairs into a neighborhood I hadn’t visited yet. Chueca, one of Madrid’s gay districts, is full of boutiques, cafeterías, and art supply stores, and at eight in the evening the streets and restaurant patios were full of people. The street where the yoga studio is located is mostly residential, and that evening the street was quieter than the part of the neighborhood where I had left the metro; nonetheless, I passed more than one affectionate couple on the narrow sidewalk. The studio is inside an apartment complex, down a dark flight of stairs and past a tessellated mural. An earlier class was just leaving, and it was almost jarring to hear people conversing in English.

Although the commute is nearly an hour from my neighborhood in Rivas-Vaciamadrid, I’ve started taking classes at this particular studio because the instructor is a woman from the United States, and the classes are held in English. The other yogis are from numerous other countries—England, Holland, Pakistan—and we talk in the languages we share: English during class, Spanish before and after. The Thursday evening class in the lavender-scented studio ended with child’s pose, balasana, and dimmed lights. As I walked back through the neon-lit streets of Chueca I felt utterly content.

I came to Madrid for the fall semester as a participant in Greenville’s study abroad program, but I didn’t anticipate that I would be the only student. Although my host family is incredibly kind and Madrid is a beautiful city, my first month here was lonely and difficult. I have gone a week or longer without speaking any English, except through texts, and I sometimes hesitate to talk to my host mom about my classes or tell her about where I walked in Madrid because I doubt that I can communicate it properly. It was daunting to take public transportation into the city and navigate the streets alone, and I hated ordering in restaurants when all I could think about was how appalling my accent must sound. However, during the challenges of that first month I fell in love with Madrid: the juxtaposition of historic landmarks and classical architecture with upscale restaurants and modern shopping districts; the passionate couples who never hesitate to kiss on the sidewalks or embrace on the benches of el Parque del Buen Retiro; the terrace restaurants where you can sit under the string lights until late in the night and talk over tapas and tinto de verano, a lemony-sweet mixed wine.

This city is bursting with life and color and passion, and I feel infinitely grateful that I have this opportunity. I feel my confidence growing the more I speak to my host family and friends in Spanish, and places such as the yoga studio and the English bookstore provide solace when I miss my native language. I tend to exhaust of my own company and I get energy from being around other people, and I felt the consequences of my extrovertness when I first arrived. I had hoped that coming here would push me to do more things alone, and I have grown to love it. I feel almost at home riding the metro, often without a destination, people-watching and listening to conversation spoken with the native Castilian lisp; or walking through Retiro where I can feed peacocks or watch synchronized

SAY THAT THEY LEAVE PARTS OF THEMSELVES IN THE CITIES THEY LOVE, BUT IT SEEMS MORE LIKE THIS GENEROUS CITY

IS GIVING BITS OF ITSELF TO ME...

kayakers practicing in the lake; or exploring the artsy neighborhoods like Chueca and Malasaña. My time here is more limited than it seemed when I was flying across the Atlantic with the semester looming ahead, and it’s hard to imagine that by mid-December I’ll be in Greenville, moving back into my dorm just in time for finals.

Travelers usually say that they leave parts of themselves in the cities that they love, but it seems more like this generous city is giving bits of itself to me: vibrancy and warmth that will stay with me even when I return to the rhythm of work and school.

I CHOSE YOU OUT OF

“

THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION IS A RELIGION OF ADOPTION

”

LOVE:

THE JOURNEY TO ADOPTION CARRIE BAKER

“The Christian religion is a religion of adoption. The Gospel tells us that one becomes a father or mother only if one adopts our children. One does not become a father or mother, even if one is a natural father or mother, but the day when one says to his son: ‘I chose you out of love.’ Such is a model of the Holy Family. The natural law no longer exists, it is the law of love which counts first.” –Michel Serres, philosopher

One of the most selfless but misunderstood aspects of our society is the process of adoption. It is not only a journey that has the potential to simultaneously fill us with so much joy and heartache, but it is also something that has touched so many lives, including some of those on our campus.

Professor of Communications and Media Studies Dr. Matt Bernico and his wife, Shannan, a graduate admissions counselor, started their adoption process over two years ago. For them, this decision was always very intentional. “Adoption is interesting because it’s a type of familial relationship that doesn’t rely on biology, but on choice. It’s the construction of family through other means,” Dr. Bernico stated.

Bernico expressed his belief in adoption as an inherently theological concept, proposing that Jesus himself was placed with a family through extra-biological means. He stated that this idea—this emphasis on the creation of a family and the expression of love as an intentional choice—deeply resonated

with him, especially as a father pursuing adoption in a world that has a hard time understanding it.

GU student Maci Sepp, who was adopted as an infant, echoed these statements, saying that adoption is something that she’s still trying to decipher. However, as she’s grown, she has begun the process of peeling back the layers. In fact, for her honors thesis, Sepp is researching how accurately transracial adoption is represented in media and visual culture. She believes that this process has helped her assess the ways society has influenced her own experience, as she explores aspects of adoption like the language society uses and the assumptions that are made in regards to adoption. Dr. Bernico mirrored many of the same concerns regarding societal perception of adoption.

He believes that one of the hardest and most unanticipated struggles of his adoption process was the latent anti-adoption sentiment rooted within our culture, including the negative language surrounding parents who make adoption

plans for their children. He expressed that unfortunately, all of these latent narratives lead society to place a cultural stigma on adoption, which proposes it as secondary or inferior to biological reproduction—and that just isn’t true.

Bernico acknowledged that “adoption is a difficult terrain that many people misunderstand,” but proposed that the only way to get past this disconnect is honest dialogue. Sepp’s sentiments reflected Bernico’s. As an adoptee herself, she especially encouraged others to stand out in courage and talk about their experiences.

She said, “By not talking about adoption, the topic becomes more distant and abstract, to others and ourselves.” For many, the adoption journey, though long and complex, is joyful; families unite and love wins. But the key word here is journey. The process doesn’t begin or end when a child enters the home, and neither should the conversation.

SKIN STORIES: FINDING IDENTITY IN INK Carrie Baker

A

s humans, we’ve all encountered the pains of grief, confusion, distress, and—if we’re lucky—the weight of incomparable joy, pride and accomplishment. These experiences have become part of the narrative of what it means to be not only a member of humanity, but also to be a unique individual. If these experiences have molded our identities, one would think that we would want to hold onto them forever.

Unfortunately, another characteristic of humanity is impermanence. Just as these experiences fade away, our memory of these events grow faint, until we are left only with the vague detail that our human memory allows of how we felt in those moments. What if there was some way to fight the mortality of our memory and transport ourselves back to whatever that moment was for us? I’ve encountered some people who have done just that. They’ve documented the emotions of their experiences—not in a journal or on social media, not on a blog or in a book—but with ink on their skin. I’ve met three individuals whose tattoos tell an unforgettable story about their identity.

Mandy Pennington got her tattoo during Thanksgiving break of her sophomore year. Though her decision to get a tattoo was somewhat unexpected, the thoughtfulness of her design, which reads “Then sings my soul”—a line of the chorus of the hymn “How Great Thou Art”—communicates a story that is anything but impulsive. Mandy said, “College has been hard. I knew that I would go through periods of doubt in my faith, and I wanted to have something on my body to remind me of my beliefs.

I define myself as two things: one being a musician, specifically a singer, and the other a beloved child of God. My tattoo encompasses both of these things for me. Every time I look down at my arm, I hear the melody in my head. The line is a representation of everything in my body and soul crying out to God, and that’s what the tattoo reminds me of: this complete surrender of everything I am to God.” Sean Miday is a Hawaiian native whose tattoo is hard to miss.

Though it doesn’t have religious implications, its meaning is equally as powerful. Sean’s tattoo stretches down the length of his leg and tells the generational story of his ancestors, from the beginning of time to the very end. It is a tribute to his identity within the Hawaiian culture. He said, “In my culture, you don’t choose when you get a tattoo; you earn it, and I earned mine after graduating high school.” Sean’s tattoo is breathtaking, not only because it serves as a visual reminder to him and others about who he is and where he belongs, but also as a physical reminder of the pain he endured for his tattoo in honor of the Hawaiian culture. Sean chose to have his tattoo done traditionally, which means that the artist used a chisel-like tool to tap and pound the design into his skin. Because of this, Sean understands the immense meaning behind his tattoo and others like it. His advice

to anyone thinking of getting a cultural or “tribal” tattoo is, “Do your research and make sure you are worthy of it. They do look cool, but ‘tribals’ hold a lot of meaning to those who have earned the right to wear them.”

After graduating high school, Hannah Gaffner abandoned her plans to go to a traditional university and decided instead to become an international nanny. She hopped on a plane bound for Germany, where she lived for a year with a new family, in a new city, learning a new language. Hannah fell in love with Germany, so she decided

to take home a souvenir that would last forever and serve as a constant reminder of her experiences during that year of her life.

Hannah got a tattoo in her second language that reads “Wo man seine liebe investiert, investiert man auch sein leben.”

When translated it says, “Where you invest your love, you invest your life.” Two years ago, Hannah embarked on this adventure all alone, forced to navigate unfamiliar territory.

By the end of her year, she learned what it truly meant to invest in learning about the culture, language, and people of Germany, and she will forever be changed because of that experience. Hannah’s tattoo serves as a daily reminder of her journey during that year and allows her to take a little piece of her second home with her everywhere she goes.

Most of the time, ink tells story. Perhaps the reason that it sinks deeper into the skin is because there is more to the story than can be told on paper. Just like the thousands of tattoos that pass on us on the street, the individuals that wear them are unique.

We may never know what someone is experiencing in their life—what they are going through right now—but if you look really closely, you may be able to get a glimpse of what they’ve gone through. Next time you see a tattoo, keep in mind that their ink may be a representation of who they are, or of the people, places, or situations they have encountered in their lives that have played a part in shaping their identity.

Perhaps the reason that

IT SINKS DEEPER

INTO SKIN

is because there is

MORE TO THE STORY

THAN CAN BE

TOLD ON PAPER.

The party-goer

Brian Gertler, CRE: “I’m probably in a secluded room with a couple people talking about music and telling goofy stories.” Fours are sensitive, self-absorbed, temperamental, passionate, emotional, artistic, expressive, and withdrawn. Fours spend their lives rediscovering themselves over and over, their true purpose to become fully self-aware and uniquely themselves. They prefer to be alone or with a small group of friends, and are often overwhelmed by too much sensory input or large crowds. Brian portrays this in his answer, saying that he finds himself in a secluded room away from the loud party with only a few people. He talks about music—something he really loves—and tells goofy stories that accurately portray and express his personality.

and the

ENNEAGRAM

Ivy Lyons, junior: “At a party, I’m probably

Mandy Pennington

Most people have heard of the MyersBriggs personality test: a 16-type system using a four-letter combination to type each person. Lesser-known but—in my opinion—more insightful is the Enneagram personality test. The Enneagram is founded in Sufi mysticism, but has since become a method many churches and Christian organizations use, including Res Life at GU. The Enneagram is a nine-type system that factors in the way we view ourselves into the results much more than the Myers-Briggs does. A large difference between the two is their contrasting focuses on nature vs. nurture. The Myers-Briggs calculates results in light of nature—the way we were born and our genetics—and approaches any changes in our personalities since birth with

TYPE FOUR: The Romantic The Individualist The Artist

the view that they are simply situational “compensations.” However, the Enneagram factors in nurture, saying that the way we were raised and the ways we’ve been shaped by our experiences have made a difference in the personality type we have today.

When given a type—a number one through nine—you are also given a “wing,” which is the number on either side of your number in order. Your wing number describes your secondary personality characteristics. Each type also has a basic fear, desire, virtue, and vice.

are very telling of the person’s personality type, even though all of those interviewed come from the same type of background and are all students at a Christian University.

Each person was posed with the following question: “You’re at a party. Where are you and what are you doing?” My personal favorite free Enneagram test can be found at https://www.eclecticenergies.com/ enneagram/dotest.

Being the Enneagram nerd that I am, I thought it would be fun to ask someone of each type the same question and read the varying responses. Most of these answers

I encourage you to go take the Enneagram and learn more about you!

The most fun descriptions of your types can be found at 9types.com/descr.

TYPE FIVE: THE INVESTIGATOR THE THINKER THE OBSERVER

talking about some philosophical thought or telling a funny story that has no real place in a party setting. Partially because I’m lame, wholly because I overthink things.” Fives are intense, perceptive, secretive, innovative, and isolated. The Five is sometimes unofficially called “The Hermit” because they spend so much time alone in thought. Ivy articulated that perfectly with his assessment of himself, saying that he usually is talking about a philosophical thought or a story that doesn’t have a place at a party. These are probably preconceived thoughts that he finally shares when he is around others, including in a party setting.

Beth Richardson, senior: “At a party where I don’t know a lot of people, I’m hanging out near the edges with one or two people I do know. If I know everyone, I’m still probably not seeking to be the center of attention, but people actually know I’m there.” Sixes are securityoriented, loyal, engaging, anxious, suspicious, responsible, and committed. Some of these traits may seem conflicting, but they all fit into a person who is caring, loving, and committed to the people they love, but desperately needs security and support, getting anxious and fearful when they don’t have it. Beth hangs out near the edge of a party with the people she does know will support and guide her, finding her security in the known. She says that if she does know everyone, she still doesn’t want to be the center of attention, always seeking security above all else. She feels supported by and comfortable with the ones she loves.

TYPE Six: The Loyalist The Skeptic The Questioner

Erin Gilmore, junior: “At a party I would find a group of friends to hang around with. I would

Caleb McKay, senior: “If there’s a party, I’m usually off to the side having a

TYPE ONE: THE REFORMER THE PERFECTIONIST

TYPE SEVEN: THE ENTHUSIAST THE ADVENTURER

conversation with no more than one or two people. I usually already know these people.” Ones are rational, idealistic, principled, purposeful, self-controlled, and perfectionistic. Caleb’s answer shows these qualities; he prefers a controlled environment with only a few people who he already knows, so that he feels control over the situation and purpose in his reason for being at the party.

Nick Watterson, sophomore: “I’d be at the party, participating

but not to the point of danger, people-watching and laughing, ready to break up any fights or over-aggressive shoving.” Eights are self-confident, decisive, powerful, dominating, willful, and confrontational. Nick dwells confidently at a party, watching others, laughing, and prepared to deal with any conflict. He is a leader in most situations, ready to step in if needed. He fully participates in the party activities as long as they aren’t stupid or life-threatening. Eights have strong senses of self-preservation and survival, and usually keep clear heads in such situations.

Noah Kneer, senior: “I am with the people but really nervous

about people’s well-being and keeping everyone from fighting.”

Twos are caring, interpersonal, possessive, generous, demonstrative, nurturing and people-pleasing. Twos live their lives in constant pursuit of reciprocal love, and are very others-centered. Noah shows the empathetic side of his Two nature, explaining how instead of worrying about his own well-being at the party, he is concerned about everyone else’s. Twos prefer harmony and love, and Noah wants to make sure that everyone feels loved and included.

TYPE Two: THE helper

Riley Hannula, junior: “If there’s a party, I’m there dancing with

TYPE THREE: THE ACHIEVER THE PERFORMER

also make a cycle every so often and say hi to the people I know. I would keep ending up with my original group of friends.” Sevens are energetic, busy, fun-loving, spontaneous, versatile, scattered, and distractible. They are the “life-of-the-party” type. Erin definitely fits that bill, explaining how she makes cycles at parties to go talk to the people that she knows—this is the positive side of “distractible.” Her spontaneous and versatile nature causes her to want to see and talk to everyone she can(and not miss out on any opportunity), but eventually she always ends up back with the people she cares most about.

a large amount of other people to songs from the top 40 playlist.”

Threes are pragmatic, success-oriented, excelling, adaptive, and image-conscious. They seek approval above all else, notoriously mistaking applause for love. Threes are usually extremely hardworking and talented people, but find themselves “performing” when with others to keep up a certain image.

Riley displays this nature by sharing how she likes to be in the middle of the crowd, doing what everyone else is doing. She prefers to be in the center of the action, “performing” socially, while others would prefer to sit in the corner and watch. Her social skills excel and adapt in different situations.

TYPE eight: The Challenger The Leader The Asserter

Alexis Smith, senior: “I’m not normally one who attends parties of any sort simply because

TYPE Nine: THE Peacemaker

I tend to be more reserved. I’m not a big fan of crowds so generally I stay to the edge of groups or off by the food because that is usually off to the side. I would also probably find another person who is also standing off to the side by themselves to talk to.” Nines are easygoing, reassuring, complacent, self-effacing, receptive, and agreeable. They can be very introverted, but they are always in pursuit of peace and harmony, desiring wholeness and avoiding conflict at all costs. Alexis’s conflict-avoidance comes into play with her avoidance of crowds and parties. She pursues peace and harmony by making an effort to talk to others who are standing alone, playing the role of includer and trying to make everyone happy.

LIFE-CHANGING

BECAUSE OF WINN-DIXIE

BY KATE DICAMILLO RECOMENDED BY SARAH STONE

Literature

I read that book multiple times in elementary school and I think those were some pretty formative years for me, especially since I was bullied for a couple years in grade school. I chose to escape through books, and Because of Winn-Dixie was particularly meaningful for me. This is a book about a girl who was kinda outcast and made a lot of friends that were also outcasts, including her dog, Winn-Dixie. She also finds out that people (whether rude, quiet, young, old) all have reasons for why they are a certain way. She gets to know them and loves them regardless of everything that puts them in this societal outcast position. It helped me a lot in elementary school, and throughout life, because it helped me remember that all people are coming from different experiences and backgrounds, and that shouldn’t affect our love for them.

ABI HILLLRICH

JAYBER CROW BY WENDELL BERRY AND THE CROSS AND THE LYNCHING TREE BY JAMES CONE RECOMENDED BY MIKEY WARD For the latter, I would recommend students to come have a chat!

I recently re-read Jayber Crow by Wendell Berry. Besides being totally refreshed by Berry’s rejection of our society’s necessity to be relevant, I couldn’t help but recognize how Port William’s Jayber Crow demonstrated how sacred the overlooked role of a barber is and can be to a community. Crow is the quiet, minimalist barber who provides two purposes in the town: he cuts hair and hears the town’s collective narrative. Berry’s narrative and characters provide clarity for my own narrative in a small, midwest, predominantly white hometown.

Berry captures the pace, community, characters, and people we all know, love, and cannot separate ourselves from. He is the resounding voice for my unfortunate monolithic upbringing.

I have relatives, stories, biases, and ‘Amens!’ scattered and marked throughout the margins.

One passage that specifically speaks to me comes at the main character’s journey back home to Port Williams at the age of 20. It encapsulates my journey back to GU when it states on p.

133: “I am a pilgrim, but my pilgrimage has been wandering and unmarked. Often what has looked like a straight line to me has been a circle or a doubling back. I have been in the Dark Wood of Error any number of times. I have known of Hell, Purgatory, and Heaven, but not always in that order. The names of many snares and dangers have been made known to me, but I have seen them only in looking back. Often I have not known where I was going until I was already there. I have had my share of desires and goals, but my life has come to me or I have gone to it mainly by way of mistakes and surprises. Often I have received better than I have deserved.

Often my fairest hopes have rested on bad mistakes. I am an ignorant pilgrim, crossing a dark valley, and yet for a long time, looking back, I have been unable to shake off the feeling that I have been led—make of that what you will.”

DAMNATION OF THEORON WARE

BY HAROLD FREDERIC

RECOMENDED BY ERIC WATTERSON

There are certain situations in which the main character is striving for a sense of identity and vocation, yet needs to be confronted with his limitations and have his ego checked. At the time I read it, it was a good lesson and started to set the tone for some things that came.

FAHRENHEIT 451

BY RAY BRADBURY

RECOMENDED BY SEAN POPE

This book depicts a dystopian future in which books are outlawed and no value is placed on knowledge. Reading it in class as a high school sophomore, the book felt like a watershed moment for me. The struggle between knowledge and ignorance tuned into something internal that needed to be tended to, and has gradually come into a broader relevance.

JANE EYRE BY CHARLOETTE BRONTE AND A CHALLENGE FOR THE ACTOR BY UTA HAGEN RECOMENDED BY COURTNEY BAILEY-PARKER I read Jane Eyre in one of my first undergraduate English courses, and it is probably the closest thing I’ve ever experienced to a true “moment of recognition” with a text. It was uncanny to me that a Victorian woman writer had the ability to articulate the same questions I had about how I viewed myself as a woman and my ever-changing sense of what it meant to call myself “religious.”

The other is Uta Hagen’s incredible meditation on what it means to be an actor, A Challenge for the Actor. I had never heard another actor speak about the profession with such reverence before, and one passage from this book absolutely altered my understanding of what it means to be successful as a theatre artist. I carry a copy of this quote with me everywhere I go: “I believe that when you have achieved great skill, a point of view, and the power to communicate, an audience, no matter how small, will reward you with the respect that makes it all worthwhile. If you are willing to make a true commitment to the making of theatre art, like a dedicated priest or nun you will have to accept the likelihood of poverty in exchange for inner riches. It is the only trade off you can hope for.”

VISIBLE IDENTITIES

BY LINDA MARTIN ALCOFF

RECOMENDED BY JOHN BRITTINGHAM

I got the book as part of a research project that grew out of my dissertation work, but it was by no means the book I thought would be most important to that research. However, as I began to make my way through the book, I realized that it was not the book that I was expecting.

On the surface, Visible Identities is a collection of essays connected by the attempt to explore identity in light of various critiques of the relevance of race and gender to political projects.

Beneath the surface, the book is a cohesive argument about why race, class, and gender do matter, but also why how we think about them as a part of our identities matters.

All of this is a setup for why and how this book changed my life. The last three chapters of the book start Alcoff’s turn from race and gender in general to the lived experience of Latinx persons. In particular, Alcoff’s chapter “On Being Mixed” was both philosophically and personally transformational. Being a multiethnic Latino myself, Alcoff’s chapter brought together my philosophy interests with my own self-understanding. Self-examination is a cornerstone of philosophic practice, but Alcoff’s work deepened that practice for me while also acting as a bridge for me as a philosopher to connect with and think alongside the Latinx community of which I am a part and which remains largely unrepresented in mainstream philosophy.

After reading Visible Identities I knew that I couldn’t continue to do the same research and philosophy I had been doing. I also knew that there was a whole community of scholars like me that I needed to connect with and learn from. Alcoff’s book validated my identity as a Latino scholar, but also gave me the inspiration to change up my work. It is a rare but beautiful thing to have a book encourage you to be you.

Josiah Mohr

GOD T H E

H

ave you ever tried to have a conversation with a tree? Well, I have and I can definitely say I felt crazy doing it. That conversation did indeed serve a purpose, despite your raised eyebrow. Actually, it was an assignment for my class on spiritual formation, as an activity in encountering God in nature. Now, I can’t say that I found this abstract experience exceptionally beneficial to my fairly objective personality, but it did serve to further encourage me to consider exactly how I encounter God in my everyday life. My brain, in its meta-analytical state, begged to ask the question, “What is the activity of God in my life?” To further that thought, I would ask us to consider what ways God is active in our world.

Unfortunately, observing the way God works in our world is quite a bit harder than you would expect. With all the violence, politics, and protests that seem to happen daily in our world, there seems to be an excessive amount of negative news that shrouds our lives in darkness. We each deal with enough of our own stresses, relationships, and responsibilities that it can indeed be difficult to find something positive to smile about and be thankful for. It can be even harder to identify the blatant and irrefutable activity of God in our lives. It is quite unfortunate that it takes such a high level of intentionality to notice the work of God in the mess that we call life. This, I would like to emphasize,

A C T I V I T Y

gives us all the more reason to look for the ways we encounter God so that, even in the chaos of life, we may see our need for the help of God and the opportunity we have to join Him in His work. Rather than consider God’s will for all eternity and the implications of His sovereignty, I would like us to consider the here and now, the moment in which we are living. My hope is that we can discover the ways God is working in our lives today and how we might participate in the activity of God to ultimately reconcile all people to each other and to Himself.

Let’s begin with an easy observance of God in our earthly lives. The avenue through which the activity of God can most directly be seen is in the extraordinary action of miracles. Although this particular activity of God may seem a little too obvious, I believe it is an activity that we overlook all too often with our modern science and technology.

We have little expectation for divine intervention and when such an occurrence takes place, we find it easy to attribute the extraordinary to the mundane. Now this is not to say that God does not work in the mundane, but in our relationship-driven modern Christianity we can forget that the friendly God we serve is not, by any means, passive or weak. God “is not a tame lion” as C.S. Lewis notes in his Christian allegorical novel The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. God is indeed a very powerful and divine being, capable of unimaginable

O F

influence in our everyday lives, which includes nothing short of the miraculous.

I am convinced that God will indeed live up to His responsibility as Creator of the universe. Yet, the most miraculous part of His power is that He freely shares it with all who have accepted the gospel of Jesus Christ. There is no shortage of divine power applied by human hands and voices in the stories of the Bible, from healings to resurrections and exorcisms to elemental control. All of these are examples of the miraculous power of God—the activity of God through the extraordinary.

The voice of God through human mouths must not be ignored. The influence of God can be clearly seen in the people around us, in our relationships with family, friends, and strangers. I’m sure that what comes to mind as soon as I mention the voice of God is the familiar experience of sitting through a sermon in church or a lecture during class.

These are indeed legitimate opportunities for the truth of God to be spoken, but I would encourage us to look to the left and to the right. Consider your roommate, spouse, sibling, parent, mentor, and friend with whom you had a conversation this morning, last night, the week before, months ago, or years in the past. Take notice of these people through whom God speaks. Conversations can range from casual and comedic to intentional and intimate but through it all, the truth of God can be spoken. It is often in the

many conversations we have on a daily basis that we come to a better understanding of our place in the will of God and the activity in which He would like us to participate on His behalf. In so many circumstances, I found the prophecies of God for my life to come from the people closest to me, enabling me to better understand God and myself. As a result of these conversations, I feel better equipped to have meaningful conversations with others, further spreading the truth of God. Whether we want to admit to such a responsibility or not, we are indeed the primary actors of the influence of God in our world, sharing the love He has called us to through both verbal conversation and physical sacrifice.

Finally, the work of God can be seen in the situations in which we are placed and the opportunities with which we are presented.

Just as God acts in the extraordinary, God also acts regularly in the mundane. It is in our daily disciplines, habits, and routines that we should most often see the activity of God. If we truly are “bearing fruit worthy of repentance” as Matthew 3:8 commands, we should see the fruit of God in our lives.

How do you answer, “What is God doing in your life?” This question is not asked nearly enough and it is perhaps the hardest one many of us encounter. It is not because God isn’t doing anything worth noting, rather it is because we are not aware enough of His presence in the mundane to notice the signs

and wonders He displays right before us.

The unavoidable activity of God is made apparent in the life of Jesus as noted in John 21:25, which states, “There are also many other things that Jesus did; if every one of them were written down, I suppose that the world itself could not contain the books that would be written.” There is no limit to the story of God and the encounters that we can have with Him, even in the mundane. As a part of the history of God’s reconciliation of the world, we are far more than simply a face in the crowd, for we have God as the Holy Spirit living among us. Our potential opportunities for encounters with God are simply endless. All that is required is that we open our eyes to the wonderful things He is doing, for we are indeed a living, participating member in the activity of God.

“E

V E N

T H E

I N C H A O S

O F

L I F E ,

W E

M A Y

S E E

O U R

N E E D T H E O F

F O R H E L P

G O D .“

when i GROW UP “ ”

I’ve loved clothing as long as I can remember. When I was three, my mom introduced a faux velvet black dress to me in the pile of dress-up clothes making a home in our basement. I worshipped this dress, wearing it everywhere and as often as I could. I wore that thing (that eventually came to be known as my LLBD - “long long black dress”) for years. In seventh grade English class, when asked to write a practice essay for the SATs about the pros or cons of requiring uniforms in schools, I remember having a particularly difficult time expressing how much picking out my clothes every day meant to me.

It’s an expression of personality, each individual piece a work of art, and the combinations of pieces even more so.

My coming-of-age story involves finding my personal style in eighth grade, amidst too many mini skirts and skinny jeans and skin-tight Abercrombie & Fitch tops.

My mom also taught me how to sew when I was young. I’ve always had access to a sewing machine, and was gifted my own in middle school. I grew up wearing clothes my mother had sewn herself, and I worked at making my own with thrift store patterns, cheap fabric, Tim Gunn’s voice blaring from my laptop, and season after season of Project Runway. I used to imagine myself on the show, early-20s, with hair a shocking pastel surely. Making clothes felt like, in these moments, what I was made to do. I loved clothes, I could sew, it was the dream.

The problem is: I’m not a rule follower.

I didn’t like cutting out each piece of a complicated pattern, or pinning pieces together and then accidentally sewing them inside out. Countless times, I had to start all over again, each time getting more and more frustrated. This feeling wasn’t all bad, though.

ABI HILLRICH

Every time I had the urge to skip the steps of a pattern and invent my own was a gentle reminder that something wasn’t right. See, I’m learning that when you find what you’re meant to do, it’ll be easier to put up with failure. I’ve found my calling in writing, and the rules still frustrate me sometimes, but I put up with them because I know I don’t have any other choice. That’s what was missing in my dream to be a fashion designer - I was never willing to sacrifice my frustration.

I never loved the struggle of piece-by-piece patterns and broken sewing needles and tangled bobbins as I have loved editing a poem into oblivion. Shelby Farthing experienced something similar when choosing her major. A freshman philosophy and theology doublemajor, Shelby said it was a struggle to come to this point. While in high school, she took an English course at a community college near her home, and felt invigorated by it. Reading, learning about the structure of genres, and delving into the meaning of European-style literature were things that she found she truly enjoyed. Because of this experience, and her natural desire to write as a cathartic means of expression, Shelby considered being an English major when entering college.

However, she too experienced a struggle when her love for literature was rivaled by her love for philosophy. A desire developed in her, during teaching in church, to be used by God however he felt fit, and she at first mistook this desire for a calling to full-time ministry.

Prayer and consideration of this calling brought Shelby to Greenville University’s JKL Academic Hall. It felt like home, she said. Able to relate to the professors she spoke with, and the way they told her of their own callings, she knew that something about this choice was right.

She learned in her visit that ministry is more broad and undefined than she’d imagined, that God’s purpose for her may not fit into the now-too-tight box she’d interpreted. Pursuing God’s will is something Shelby has learned to view with peace and grace, a promise of enjoying the benefits of God. Giving up this dream of being an English major was still extremely difficult and full of a fair amount of mental turmoil. Shelby hopes that in a parallel universe perhaps she lived to be a Shakespearean historian. But, there is a lot of joy to be found where she is right now, seeking God’s will in the seats of intro-level philosophy courses.

Though this isn’t the only path she could have chosen, Shelby believes that listening to one’s calling is a lot broader than it may seem. To live within God’s will is largely according to the condition of her own heart, she believes, and she is continually excited about how God will use her here.

Gianna Paden distinctly remembers filling out career projection tests in middle school, and receiving the career that she expected: medical doctor. Not only was this a path she had chosen for herself (taking as many gen ed science courses in high school as she could), but it was what she felt that her small town expected from her. Graduating

... it’s easy to FIND yourself

caught up in DREAMS that

DON’T FIT quite right. in the top three of her class, Gianna’s path seemed pretty well-determined by the time she entered high school. She has always been intrigued by science and loved the outdoors, fascinated by understanding the workings of the world. Growing up, it seemed that this goal of being a doctor just made sense; her interests and strengths aligned perfectly with her dream.

However, traveling more during her upperclassman years of high school shifted something in Gianna’s worldview. She began to notice how other cultures, particularly in Guatemala, place little value in career. It was a clear difference to America’s culture, where we relate success and performance to occupation. These differences prompted her to question everything she believed about what she was working towards. At the forefront was the pressing question: what is the basis of my plans for the future? It was extremely difficult for Gianna to distinguish between what others expected from her and what she desired for herself.

When she graduated and began pre-med courses at Greenville College, she still had these questions. She began to feel as if she put more work into her classes than other students, and struggled to achieve the grades she desired. This feeling, combined with doubt, cut her deep. Comparing herself to other passionate, intense, unaffected

students, Gianna remembers wondering if she was actually meant to be a doctor.

This led her to believe that she wasn’t good enough to be a doctor, that she lacked something essential in order to pursue her dream.

Fortunately, this doubt led to a place of peace. It was in this searching that Gianna found the nursing program. She felt at home here, and though challenged, she wasn’t pushed beyond what she could handle.

Not only did nursing feel easier, it felt right.

Nursing contained everything she loved about being a doctor: the act of helping people in their vulnerability. Nursing was a much better fit for her temperament, and didn’t require her to sacrifice her goals.

There seems to be a cultural push to do everything, be everything, follow every passion you can. Stemming from a desire to find fulfillment and purpose in a world full of distraction, it’s easy to find yourself caught up in dreams that don’t fit quite right. However, there’s a quiet, peaceful value in recognizing what you’re good at and devoting— sacrificing—everything for a path that may feel familiar, like home.

KICK OFF YOUR SUNDAY SHOES:

WILD COU NTRY CARRIE BAKER

It’s a cool, crisp Thursday morning and we’re all walking to class. The weekend is upon us and everybody is bright-eyed and bushytailed, ready to conquer whatever this Fridayeve has in store. Well, mostly everybody.

You see, there are two kinds of people on a Thursday morning: those who have been up since 7:00 a.m., sporting what is comparable to your Sunday best, and those who look like they just rolled out of bed before trudging across campus to their 9:30 in Dietzman. You head into the classroom and take your seat.

The girl in front of you reaches behind her head to do the awkward paper pass-off and that’s when you see it. Almost unnoticeable, but definitely visible...the infamous faded black line. She went to Wild Country.

Oh, Wild Country. The glowing beacon of mystery that is the elephant on campus.

Pretty much everybody knows it exists, but nobody talks about it above a whisper, you know...because we go to a “Christian” school. You’ve heard about it, you’ve maybe even seen it grace your Insta feed a time or two, but you don’t really know what it is. So, I’ve taken the liberty of letting you in on a few dirty little secrets that might lead you to whipping out your fake leather cowboy boots and hitting the dance floor next Wednesday... or not.

Have you ever seen Footloose? Of course

you have, so you know the plot. Girl: pastor’s daughter, rebel, wears red cowboy boots. Guy: moves into town, bad-boy type, likes girl, likes to dance. Fast forward to a concerned church congregation and a town with a no-dance policy keeping these kids from cutting a rug; so they sneak out at night to leave the county and ‘cut loose.’ Sound familiar? That’s basically all that Wild Country is—Greenville’s version of a live-action Footloose right before your eyes. Seriously though, they even play the song...and there’s a dance to that too. The music comes on and BAM—everybody starts dancing to this

pre-choreographed dance they already know the moves to. It’s like the redneck college edition of High School Musical.

It’s a beast all of its own that you probably won’t understand unless you experience it for yourself. It’s kind of cool, kind of awful, and once you’re done with all the stomping, shouting and stumbling over your own two feet, you can head over to the Greenville reunion at the local Steak ‘n’ Shake.

Here on campus, there are the ones who consider themselves regulars, the ones who go every once in awhile to feel cool, the ones who go once to say they went, and, last but not least, the ones who vow to never be caught dead in such an establishment. The truth of it all is that it doesn’t matter where you fall on the scale.

All that boot stompin’ isn’t for everyone.

But if you’re ever looking for something to do on a Wednesday night, there’s probably a group of hard-to-miss students walking out of the residence halls. If you ask them, they’re not going anywhere in particular, *insert wink* but they’ll probably give you a ride.

YOU’VE HEARD ABOUT IT...

BUT YOU DON’T REALLY KNOW WHAT

IS.

WHERE CONFIDENCE

THRIVES

When you meet a person, what do you notice first? Sometimes it’s their bright blue eyes, or crooked smile, or bowl cut—but often it’s their stylish corduroy skirt or perfectlythrifted sweater. Judging people based on what they’re wearing is a common response; people often represent themselves by what they put on their bodies and how they hold themselves. Though the saying “don’t judge a book by its cover” is common, I find it counterintuitive because the cover exists to represent what’s inside. Designers put just as much thought into book covers as people do into their appearances.

I always believed that people express their personality through their outward appearance, but while studying Advanced Communications during my sophomore year at GU, I realized that my outward appearance was affecting my personality.

I noticed that whenever I wore my favorite sweater—though I was confident in the way I looked—I was not confident in the way I felt or spoke. My favorite sweater is baggy, long, and perfect for fall. However, it made me feel quieter, more timid, and caused me to question myself. I realized that the sweater was allowing me to hide behind the long sleeves and cover myself as much as I could, which subconsciously made me feel weak.

This pattern confirmed what I’d suspected: that my clothes were definitely affecting my view of myself.

Color plays a huge part in the feelings that clothing gives the wearer. Junior Deryk Rumbold said that he wears brighter, warmer colors because they make him feel comfortable. Senior Maggie Schoepke said, “I’m an expressive person and when wearing

expressive clothing, it helps me to feel more like myself. I find that wearing plain shirts and neutral colors makes me feel restricted or trapped.” Aligning with scientific evidence, warm and bright colors like yellow and red invoke energy, joy, and optimism.

Senior Cait Scott shared that 85% of her clothes are black and grey, saying, “I feel more confident and powerful when I’m wearing dark colors.” Senior Jasmine Bavaro prefers darker tones as well, like grey, navy, olive green, black, and brown. “These colors make me feel casual and comfortable, “ she said. “I like blending in and not drawing a lot of attention to myself. The colors make me feel cool, calm, and collected.” While Cait finds dark colors to be empowering, Jasmine finds them calming. This is also grounded in associations made by our brains; brown is generally related to comfort and confidence, and black to power and elegance. Colors of clothing are interpreted differently by everyone and affect each person’s confidence in a unique way.

Some people are much more purposeful than others about the clothes that they put on their bodies. Deryk puts a good amount of thought into his appearance every day, explaining, “I always feel clothing is a good platform for starting conversations with people.” He also believes that “the more thought I put into the way I dress, the more confident I feel in presenting myself to the world.”

Maggie said, “An outfit that was thrown together at the last minute makes me feel last-minute. Putting more time into myself makes me feel equipped for the day.” It is a general consensus that wearing clothes that are comfortable, attractive, and intentional makes the wearer feel more confident and happy. Cait expressed, “If I really like my outfit I feel like I stand up taller. It’s easier to walk across campus and look people in the eye when you’re feeling good about yourself.

MARY KRAUSS Usually if I own something that makes me feel self-conscious, I get rid of it so I don’t have to mess with being worried about my clothes.” Jasmine brought up an important point, saying, “I think clothing does definitely have an impact on my confidence day-to-day, but I don’t find or put my value in what I look like. I will say that wearing certain clothing items does make me feel more confident and ready to take on the day.” Feeling comfortable in our look is important and confidenceboosting, while placing our value in what we wear can become an unhealthy obsession. As long as we do not define ourselves solely in our appearance, we can use this confidence boost intentionally on a regular basis.

However, not everyone is aware of how their clothing makes them feel. What some people don’t realize is that, though we mostly decide to reflect ourselves in our clothing, sometimes the clothing can actually shape us. As I learned by wearing my favorite sweater, the fact that we love a piece of clothing doesn’t mean it’s boosting our confidence. Figuring out what things help each of us individually to feel confident is the first step in being able to amplify that feeling. Once amplified, we can face life with a more confident smile. Confidence thrives somewhere; it’s time to find it and let it flourish.

“COLOR PLAYS A HUGE PART IN THE FEELINGS THAT CLOTHING GIVES THE WEARER.”

In 1990, my mom was living in China. She came over as a foreign exchange student, but her main purpose was to share the gospel, although missionaries were illegal in China. While she was there, my mom was somewhat of a legend, with her beautiful long blonde hair and pale skin. People would often stop her and crowd around her just to touch her hair. But one of the strangest things that ever happened to her revolved around a dream. There was a Chinese girl who traveled for many hours by train to Beijing where my mom was studying. The girl was looking for encouragement in her faith, and told my mom that she had a dream in which God told her there was a believer in the city that she should seek out. This was a bizarre and powerful experience, as no one in China knew that my mom was a Christian. She wondered at the way that God works—even in the modern day—through dreams.

Dreams are a powerful component of humanity. They prove that humans were created with great complexity. I believe that this complexity works itself out with dreams as our souls speaking to us when our conscious thoughts can’t. Of course, it’s easy to throw away that theory with the proof that some of our dreams certainly mean nothing, such as one of my recurring dreams in which Jennifer Aniston and I trade bodies and I star in an episode of Friends.

However, I invite you to consider the possibility that our dreams might just mean more than we think they do.

DREAMS ARE A POWERFUL COMPONENT OF

HUMANITY

While we sit here trying to dissect the dreams we do remember, it’s interesting to note that those are only a small percentage of the dreams we actually have. We all have around five dream episodes a night, each lasting from about 15 to 40 minutes. Ever wonder why some dreams stick in our minds, while others don’t? So do I, and I’m sorry to report that I don’t have the answer. It’s bizarre to me that my first childhood memory was a dream.

When I was little I read the Frog and Toad books all the time, and in my dream, Frog and Toad were getting married and I was their flower girl. I accidentally tripped and spilled my basket of petals and everyone stopped and stared at me.

Toad (who was the bride) told me that I needed to leave and I ran out crying. I was about three years old at the time. I can’t remember my third birthday party, but I can remember that dream. Why?

Our dreams can tell us the truth. When we are asleep, our walls are down and our subconscious is allowed to think and act freely. This is when our souls can talk. Dreams are very indicative of our emotions.

We’ve all had those pre-test or pre-performance nightmares where we show up late or the door is locked or we forget a pencil, or the test is on a different subject than the one we studied, or we forget our lines in the play, or we get booed off the stage. These dreams are the release of things we are feeling and really needed to get out. Does this predict the future? Absolutely not. Does it give us an indication of our emotions?

Absolutely.

Some dreams are certainly caused by stress, and others by trauma. These things can cause nightmares or night terrors, which are very different things.

Night terrors are experienced as feelings and

not dreams, so when you wake up, you don’t remember what you dreamed about and can’t understand why you are feeling sad, terrified, or upset. On the other hand, nightmares usually wake you, and are most commonly experienced in the early morning hours. There are common nightmares that much of humanity faces, such as running from danger, being unprepared for an exam or important meeting, being late to something, being naked in public, or falling from a great height. I have certainly had all of these dreams, the most notable being a nightmare in which I had to get to my math exam but my boyfriend wouldn’t drive me home from Walmart because he wanted to buy all of the donuts in the store. It was very stressful, believe me.

Have you ever had a recurring dream? Why do we have these? Usually, recurring dreams or nightmares reveal that there is an issue in your life that you have not acknowledged.

These dreams are usually the way your subconscious processes a past trauma, future fear, or present dilemma. When I was in high school I used to dream about my friends all turning against me and having red demon eyes. I later realized I was insecure about my friendships. Since then, I haven’t had those dreams. I used to dream all the time about my piano floating in the ocean and me struggling to reach it, but never being able to swim far enough to touch it. Honestly, I have no idea what that one meant.

Does God speak to us in our dreams? Of course, this is a debatable topic. It’s one that I’ve personally struggled with because it can seem hokey at times. There is such a thing as reading too much into your dreams. You shouldn’t go out and buy a Porsche because you had a dream in which you owned one.

However, God spoke to his chosen ones through their dreams all throughout the Bible.

MANDY PENNINGTON God sent his promises to Abraham and Jacob through dreams (Genesis 15, 20, 28). Joseph (you know, the one with the amazing technicolor dreamcoat) is one of the most famous dreamers in the Bible. God told him that his brothers would bow down to him in respect, and eventually Joseph became a dream interpreter for the Pharaoh (Genesis 37-41). Mary, mother of Jesus, was told in a vision by an angel that she would conceive and bear God’s son (Luke 1). God gave guidance to another Joseph, Mary’s husband, through a dream, telling Joseph to not break off his engagement with her, despite her perceived unfaithfulness. Later, he told Joseph to take his family to Egypt to flee from Herod (Matthew 1, 2). And finally, God gave warnings through dreams in the Bible, most notably warning the wise men to take another route home to avoid Herod's death sentence, after visiting baby Jesus (Matthew 2).

So back to the title of the article: What do our dreams mean? Honestly, most of the time, I have no idea. Why do I have back-to-back dreams that I vividly remember for two weeks straight and then not remember a single one for months? Maybe we’ll never know (at least I probably won’t). However, next time you wake up from a nightmare, keep in mind that it could be your soul trying to tell you something important. Or it could be a result of that weird fish you ate the day before.

short non-fiction stories

ENC OUN TER

In conjunction with the theme of this semester’s edition of The Vista, we invited fellow students to submit their encounter stories to the magazine. We want to represent a wide variety of perspectives and experiences, and hope you gain some insight into yourself through the telling of these stories.

MACI SEPP A Millennial’s Guide to Not Getting What You Want I have never been one for grand gestures, at least not for myself. I would rather receive nothing than risk any form of disappointment.

But every once in awhile, something happens that––no matter how small––will drive me absolutely crazy, which is why a birthday card from a guy I hardly knew sent me over the edge with joy and led to days of utter confusion.

I met Josh when we were coworkers at summer nerd camp. We didn’t interact much until one day when we ended up in the main office together, and a conversation I imagined only lasting two minutes turned into an hour of corny jokes and juicy camp gossip. From then on, we were friends.

About a week later, my birthday arrived, and right before the festivities began, Josh pulled me aside. After a few seconds of arbitrary small talk, he eventually reached behind his back, cleared his throat, and said, “So, I know it’s not much, but I wanted to give this to you.” I followed his gaze downward to see that in his hand was an envelope with my name printed on the front. I looked back up at him, a crooked smile across his face. He placed the envelope in my hands and said, “Happy birthday, Maci.”

As I began to peel away the envelope, I could feel myself smiling so much, it hurt. Inside was a gray and blue Hallmark card that read, “Happy 50th Birthday,” except the “50th” was crossed out and replaced with a handwritten “21st.” I opened up the card to reveal a sweet note along with a crudely hand-drawn dinosaur on the lefthand side. It was the strangest, most hilariously wonderful thing I had received all day. Maybe it’s just me, but very rarely do I receive actual cards from anyone born in the last three decades. When I finally looked back up at him, I was beaming. I tried to speak, but all I could manage were a few murmurs of gratitude. He chuckled and smiled at me like I was a young child learning to speak and not a complete idiot. In that moment, I was almost certain of two things: one, this was probably the best birthday card I had ever received in my entire life, and two, Josh was most definitely the man I was going to marry.

My thoughts may have been a bit extreme, but somehow, this four-dollar piece of cardstock paper had impressed me beyond belief. If this was some sort of romantic gesture, I was falling fast. As I stared at him, I suddenly noticed things I never had before, like how nicely his glasses framed his dark eyes and how his blonde hair fell effortlessly across his forehead. It was like I was seeing him again for the first time.

And that’s where the fairytale ended. In the weeks that followed this encounter, I noticed something had changed and he slowly grew more distant.

Naturally, I began overanalyzing everything, wondering if I had done something wrong or failed to do something I should. And yet, whenever an opportunity came to ask him, I never did. I told myself I’d rather have nothing than take a risk.

Perhaps Josh just didn’t like me.

Or perhaps, Josh took a few steps back because I was too afraid to step forward. In an age where we can connect at the tap of a screen or a swipe left, we millennials still live in constant competition with one another, playing the game of who can care less. I’ve come to realize it’s not a game I want to win.

My new goal? I want to care more and care deeply, even if it means disclosing my marriage fantasies to the entire student body.

Mike Schrimpf On Becoming a Teacher She was crying when she handed it to me. At first I remember wondering why my wife was giving me a thermometer. Then it dawned on me. I’d never seen one of these things in person, but I’d seen enough commercials to know that sometimes deciphering one is like trying to crack the DaVinci Code. There was no such ambiguity here, though.

There was only one word written on it, but it clearly said “pregnant.”

No lines or crosses or squiggles for us, just the rest of our lives wrapped up in 8 letters. The first thoughts that ran through my mind were an endless stream of swear words. Though, in my defense, I only said one.

As you are reading this, you are probably thinking that it is going to be an uplifting piece about my transition from reluctant parent to loving father. Sorry to disappoint, but truthfully, I’ve always been a loving father. Even when I was swearing, I knew that I would love this kid more than anyone else in the world. No, that pregnancy test didn’t change the way I felt about my kid, but it did dramatically and forever change the way I felt about “my” kids.

I’ve been an educator for the last 18 years, but I’ve only really been a teacher for the last five. Before I got that test, I was pretty sure that I loved “my” kids, the ones who showed up in my classrooms every day. But I really didn’t get it. I knew I wanted good things for my students, but in a way I was almost detached from them as people.

I always worked hard to build relationships with them, but I now realize that I was only doing so as a means to an end. I thought my job was to teach them a certain amount of “stuff.” I knew that if we had a good enough relationship, they would be a little bit more willing to try to learn that “stuff.” But it really wasn’t about them. It was about me. It was about me succeeding in teaching them what I needed to teach them, which was then verified when they were tested at the end of the year. As soon as I got that other test, though, the one that really mattered, everything changed. I understood that someone loved each and every one of “my” kids the same way I loved mine. I understood that my job was not about how much I could get them to learn. It was about them. My job, though an impossible task, was to love them as much as their families did. I wish I could say that having kids has made me a better person, or a better husband, or even a better golfer (way, way worse actually). I can say without a shadow of a doubt though that in becoming a father, I also finally became a teacher.

PKD is a genetic disease of the kidneys that my mom survived, but watched her mother die from. I had a 50/50 chance of avoiding it, but I lost. Basically, I was born with cysts on my kidneys that will grow as I get older, until I eventually face kidney failure. The only way to survive this is a transplant, but the list for organ donation is long. When I was in fifth grade, I watched my dad donate his kidney without hesitation; he was there “for better or for worse.”

When those scans came back, my dad, a doctor, knew what they meant, but my parents wanted to wait for the right time to tell me, rather than give me an extra worry during an already stressful time. I walked into that doctor’s office expecting a stress fracture.

I walked out crying, with news unrelated to my back pain. My mom was furious they hadn’t discussed an appropriate plan to relay this information to me, rather than blurting it out without warning.

I sat in the car unable to move or speak for a while, my mom holding me. She knew what it felt like to hear those words.

“Mom, can anything good come of this?”

“Beth, you can use this to get brave or you can let that fear control you for the next twenty years.”

This disease won’t start affecting me until I’m in my 40s. I still have time to live my life as if I never heard that diagnosis. There are days when that fear consumes me and I feel like I have little control. There are also days when I choose to do things like spend a semester in another country. I love that every day is a new day, and I have a choice of whether or not I let fear win. So, today? I will not let it win.

Beth Richardson Fear Has No Place Here I was sick of the bone scans and physical therapy. My back pain had been persisting through multiple gymnastics seasons and I was ready for answers. Each physical therapy session consisted of strengthening and stretching my back muscles. It helped for a while, but then I would get lazy, forget to continue the exercises at home, and my back would ache again. A year later, I found myself in another doctor’s office with a different idea—an MRI. While bone scans are a little more specialized, an MRI would show everything that was going on.

This is it. They’ll finally be able to tell me I have some stress fracture that nothing else could pick up, right?

The MRI came back while I was in the middle of preparing for a gymnastics season I wasn’t motivated to compete in, applying for colleges, and trying to enjoy my senior year of high school. For as long as I can remember, fear has been one of my most loyal companions. So when I was diagnosed with Polycystic Kidney Disease (PKD), I was afraid.

Continued on next page

Amber Wibbenmeyer

Shelbi Fisher

Allison Perry

Alone in a Crowded Room

One Step Closer to My Calling

SOUL STARS

Traveling is something I have always wanted to do, but have never gotten to accomplish.

Over this last summer, after saving up for almost a year, and making plans with three other people to split costs, I could afford a trip to California. During this trip, we would be able to go to Vidcon, which is a large convention for people who love YouTube to go and see their favorite people. We put our names in the lottery of who we would get to meet, and crossed our fingers.

Upon the arrival of my first day in college, I was anticipating what it would be like. I think I was almost trying not to think it was approaching as fast as it really was.

October 30, 2014: I stood with hundreds of others, eager to see what this year’s Halloween parade had in store, when sirens began blaring. A train hit a car with people in it. An hour or two passed by as rumors spread of who the victims were, but each story was different.

It was almost last moment when I really started to pack for my freshman year at Greenville University. I didn’t want to think about leaving my home or my pets or my friends.

I would no longer see the twinkling lights of the homes in the distance when I looked out my dining room window at night.

About a month before our trip, the lottery results were announced. I was going to get to meet my hero. Thomas Sanders is an internet personality who stands for equality of all kinds, and is a voice for the people who need it most. He inspires me every day, and I was going to get to meet him. I had no idea what I was going to say to him; what can I say to him? He has done so much for me; how could I possibly say everything in just a few minutes?

I would no longer wake up with my cat laying close to me.

When the day came for me to meet him, I wore his merchandise and tried my best to stop shaking. I found myself at the front of the line, standing behind a person who would become one of my best friends. We waited and talked about everything Thomas had done for us.

After we had been waiting for about two hours, a man came out from behind a curtain, explaining that he was Thomas’s manager and thanking us for helping pay his rent. He explained that Thomas was very excited to meet all of us, and that if he could, he would talk to each of us for hours, but he couldn’t.

When Thomas came out from behind the curtain, I couldn’t think straight. My hero was right in front of me, and I was already crying.

I couldn’t focus on what else was happening in the room, just what was before me. I was the fourth person to meet him, and the first thing he did was hug me.

He wrapped me in his arms while I cried. He asked me for my name, and I told him. He complimented my shirt (his merchandise), and my necklace, and my nails. I tried to tell him how much he has done for me. I told him how he helped me become comfortable with who I am, and he hugged me again and thanked me for saying what I said. All too soon, his manager was ushering me away, and Thomas seemed as reluctant to let me go as I was to leave. I had so much more to tell him, but so did every other person in that line.

I will never forget when I got to meet my hero, and how he gave me his full attention for those few minutes, even though there were hundreds of other people in the room.

Zach Marshall Perfectionists Anonymous Richard told me something that changed me.

I met him at a community writing program where people came from around the city to work on all kinds of writing—everything from college applications to obituaries. Richard came to work on a grant proposal he was submitting to the city to fund a non-profit organization that would help people of color get their driver’s licenses. The city we lived in was heavily segregated between the wealthier, often white neighborhoods and the unaffluent, often minority neighborhoods; the quality of life for people of color was low, according to a recent national report. Among other incidents, a white police officer had recently killed a local black teenager.

While I gave writing help, Richard taught me about his organization. Richard explained how the cost of getting a driver’s license – paying for lessons, car insurance, fuel for 50 hours of practice with an experienced driver, and license fees – was a burden on many local families. But, he explained, they still had to get to work and other places not on bus lines, so many people simply drove without licenses. However, drivers without licenses are more likely to run when pulled over because the repercussions of driving without a license are high. As a person from a middle-class family, I had never considered the costs my parents readily put up so I could drive by the age of 16.

Together, we wrote a strong narrative for the proposal about the importance of the organization for city residents.

But we also got off-topic too.

At one point, Richard asked me what I do. I explained I was applying to professor jobs across the country and hoped to finish my dissertation soon. He was surprised when I explained I couldn’t simply work at one of the three universities in the city. I explained that the pool of applicants was flooded. In fact, I explained, it was hard to find work in my field anywhere as anything more than an adjunct, likely without health insurance or job security. Yes, I concluded, it’s hard for us English PhDs. Sniff.

Richard was confused. He asked if not getting a job meant I wouldn’t get my PhD. I said, no, I’d have it. Then, he said something I’ll never forget: “It sounds like your definition of failure is my definition of success.” Richard explained that he was unemployed, had hardly any money, and wasn’t great at writing technical things.

On the other hand, he hoped to get his non-profit off the ground and was happy to think he could help his community. What he said completely upended my thinking.

Unconcerned about job security or status, he had talents he could use to help people.

How could I feel sorry for myself and still look him in the face? Here I was helping him apply for a large grant! I realized that I possessed skills and credentials I’d keep forever. I haven’t seen Richard since, but I hope one day we’ll meet again.

I would no longer see the faces of my parents as frequently as I did.

All of this pained me and hit me hard. Those twinkling lights reminded me of my fifteen year old self entering high school and how often I thought those lights were so beautiful.

I would be quickly moving into a home that would not allow me to see those same lights in the night sky and I would be moving onto another stage in my life that would never allow me to be fifteen again.

I was so pained, but I was so happy.

Greenville University was and still is my dream home. It’s where Christ is preached, worship occurs frequently, and dreams come true.

It’s where God has clearly pointed me to.

It’s where I have a friend who will walk into the night hours with me to Whitlock Music Center and help me practice music.

It’s where I am challenged to not grow away from my faith, but to grow even stronger in my faith.

It’s where the Prayer Room always has a devotional sitting on the table for me with Scripture inside that says I am loved, cherished, and beautiful in God’s eyes.

It’s where professors are willing to make sacrifices to help their students.

Yes, Greenville University doesn’t allow me to see those night lights anymore or the familiar faces that are bound to my heart.

But here, I have The Light.

Here, I’m pursuing music.

Here, I’m pursuing Him and He is pursuing me.

I know that God has led me to this school and has provided for me, and He has amazing plans for me. “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future” (Jeremiah 29:11).

The journey is not going to be easy, but why would anyone want it to be? We are strengthened through commitment, demands, and a lot of homework.

God calls us to be strong, and our strength comes from Him.

After the parade my friend Danielle and I got together to have dinner at Denny’s. We gossiped over eggs and bacon, questioning how it happened and who it was, sad for them and their loved ones, but ultimately unaffected because we didn’t know who they were. I went home, set out my all black outfit for Halloween morning, and fell asleep quickly.

October 31, 2014: I woke up at five a.m. to curl my hair and do my makeup, (Halloween was a special occasion) to find multiple missed calls from Danielle. I called her back immediately. “It was Alex.” She further explained that Alex, our friend from Greenville, had been killed in the accident the night before. Danielle came over for a while before school, but decided not to go.

My mom told me I should try, so I did, hair in a bun, makeup free, blood shot eyes, all black outfit. Halloween mourning.

I spent that day unable to focus. My mind was thick with memories of Alex, the last time I had seen her just weeks before, laughing on the kitchen floor of a house we weren’t supposed to be at, at 1 in the morning, begging someone to take our picture in that moment.

A couple nights after the accident, there was a candlelight vigil. That was the night that I realized that I don’t think souls ever die.

It was a night of tears and laughter shared among Alex and her family’s loved ones. At the end, someone shouted to look in the sky, so I did, and in the sky was a shooting star; a comet. I saw another on the way home.

A couple months later I met Hanna, who was close with Alex as well. I reached out to her online one day when she was upset. On my way to stay all night with Hanna for the first time, I saw a comet. It was Alex, letting me know I was entering a safe friendship, one that is still strong to this day.

October 29, 2015: The night before the anniversary of Alex’s death. I was iffy about going to the parade that night, but they were doing something special at the beginning for Alex and her family. I stayed for that and left shortly after because I couldn’t handle it.

On my walk back home, I saw a shooting star. The night before the anniversary. The night that I had feared for the past twelve months, not sure if I could bare it. Alex was there that night, to remind me that the next day would be tough but I wasn’t alone.

Alex. Very possibly a soul in the stars.

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INSPIRATION INSPIRATION ABI HILLRICH

Inspiration is often looked at as something highly artistic and creative, the source of all things we may refer to as the humanities, stemming from right-brain activity. Lacking structure and predictability, the image of the Muse originated in Greek literature and is now known to personify an artist’s inspiration. Many works of literature have been devoted to lamenting the lack of inspiration, or the author’s constant pursuit

Inspiration: aroused, animated, or imbued with the spirit to do something, by or as if by supernatural or divine influence. of their Muse.

Inspiration is made up of three separate steps: evocation, transcendence, and approach motivation. Beginning through evocation, or the provocation of something outside of oneself, inspiration does not come or sustain itself about without stimuli. The second step, transcendence, speaks to what happens during an episode of inspiration. The individual is able to see beyond themselves in order to pursue inspiration. Finally, the approach motivation is what happens when the individual actualizes or creates whatever it is they desire. Oftentimes, because of the experience of inspiration, an individual creates with a subliminal goal to inspire others. In an ideal situation this cycle continues to repeat itself, continuing to inspire creativity for an infinite amount of time.

Indeed, it does seem to work this way.

Inspiration can also be split up in two separate actions: being inspired by, and being inspired to. The first is much more passive, such as seeing a beautiful landscape or reading a good poem. Being inspired by makes you feel good but doesn’t

For more information on this topic (neurological and otherwise), check out studies done by Todd Thrash and Andrew Elliot.

do much more than that. Much more active is the latter term; being inspired to requires action on the part of an individual. This step is where an object is created.

The ethereal nature of inspiration makes it particularly difficult to study. Neurological aspects of becoming inspired are still widely unknown, and extremely difficult to study because of the large spectrum that is inspiration. The necessary repeatability of such an experiment creates challenges, as well. One tool that was created to make inspiration more measurable is the Inspiration Scale (IS) as developed by Thrash and Elliot in 2003. Made up of two 4-item subscales (inspiration frequency and intensity), the IS is able to place people on a scale of varying inspiration levels.

There is still much to learn about how inspiration affects us as human beings, and still much being experimented with. Perhaps understanding the origin of inspiration can help individuals to be more inspired, or perhaps it is a stimuli in and of itself. Either way, the transcendence of being inspired to something will continue to keep humans creating for as long as we can.

Creativity: the ability to transcend traditional ideas, rules, patterns, relationships, or the like, and to create meaningful new ideas, forms, methods,interpretations, etc.; originality, progressiveness, or imagination.

OUR HEROIC JOURNEY:

THE MONOMYTH josiah moore

VICTORY

INITIATION DEPARTURE

COMPANIONS

INFLUENCE OF MENTOR HESISTANCE TO LEAVE

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ife can easily be defined as a series of encounters, an endless cycle of innumerable decisions and possibilities, ultimately ending with the same single result for each of us. So is this cyclic life really all about the results of a universal sequence of endings—the end of childhood, the end of college, the end of employment, the end of a life—or is it more so about the unique journey we embark on, the encounters we stumble into, the stories we write, and the relationships we forge? Life cannot exist simply as a series of endings and accomplishments to justify our struggles. I am here to present another outlook, one that is undeniably a journey of great potential that forms in each of us a unique personality.

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Yet there is still something universal in the framework of our individual experiences.

We are not solely ubiquitous in death, but also in the wonderful orchestration of human development. This is the Monomyth, the story of us all, the heroic journey upon which we all embark, the process—rather, the product—in which we all engage.

The psychology of the Monomyth is certainly not something foreign to our existence. It can be clearly observed throughout the mythologies of history, but it was not fully established as a working theory until Joseph Campbell’s great 1949 work, The Hero with a Thousand Faces. The Monomyth is universal in application and relatable to

us all, literally meaning the “one thematic story” (mono-myth) embodied by each of our human lives. Life through the lens of the Monomyth is explained as a journey on which a heroic individual goes through a cycle of encounters, resulting in personal as well as communal development.

This development follows the progression of three stages, the first of which is called the Departure. It is here that the invitation for adventure challenges the status quo.

But like so many of us have experienced, change can be hard; we are indeed quite comfortable in our current state and all too often blind to any need for change. Our hero is quick to refuse the call to adventure, for the stakes may be considered too high, the risk not worth the reward, perhaps even compromising of a current responsibility.

However, internal turmoil is inevitable and only through the influence of a wise mentor does our hero find the inspiration to cross the threshold into adventure. Let us consider the popular icon Bilbo Baggins the Hobbit, who is known to embark on one of the greatest literary adventures ever written.

It was not without reluctance that this adventure is undertaken. Yet through the inspiration of the wizard Gandalf, Bilbo is able to overcome and participate in an amazing journey that takes him far beyond his comfort zone.

It is at the threshold of the unknown that the second stage of the Monomyth opens into a world foreign to the hero, beginning the stage of Initiation. Here companionship is necessary for survival, for trials abound

and temporary defeat is assured, especially in the face of the hero’s ultimate existential crisis, a trial that seems insurmountable. But it is through this difficult encounter that the true friends and personal character of our hero are proven. Following the encounter, a reward of symbolic significance is received, ranging from an anecdote of wisdom to an object of power. What follows is another crossroads, similar to the beginning of the adventure. This transition is not an easy one either, as our hero attempts to return back to a world of normalcy, yet with the weight and consequence of the journey now upon them. It is not an easy burden to carry, and is nearly inexplicable to friends and family, making the transition back nearly as hard as the original crossing. This journey of initiation is reminiscent of the journey of the Star Wars character Luke Skywalker in The Empire Strikes Back. Luke decides to engage Darth Vader in battle alone, truly unprepared for the challenge despite his training. He is defeated in that battle and left at death’s doorstep, only to be saved by his friends. As a symbol of his failure, Luke’s bionic hand continues to haunt him, making it all the more difficult to return to the life he had before. It is only through a final encounter that Luke may feel fulfilled, leading to the resolution that is found in the final stage.

This third and final stage—Return—is defined by resurrection and remedy. It is only through great reflection of the journey in all its detail, that our hero may truly and fully gain a greater personal awareness, a resurrection into a better self. In this, the lessons of the encounters are fully realized,

providing incredible personal development and giving our hero’s community lasting hope and growth. The reflective culmination of Harry Potter’s journey is clearly expressed following Harry’s victory over Voldemort, the series’ villain, in the final battle at Hogwarts.

Following this final victory for the wizarding world, we see Harry nineteen years in the future, happily married and sending his three children off to Hogwarts. He found his peace, redemption, and freedom to live, through the bravery he exemplified in this final battle, delivering to the wizarding world a hope for a wonderful future. It is here that this metaphorical journey becomes our reality, giving identity to our hypothetical hero.

The hero of this journey, the character at the center of the action, and the one who we best perceive is ourselves. The factors of each of our journeys are individual, but each contains pieces of the same thread—the same human experience.

It is only through personal reflection that we may truly learn and perceive our own growth. So how do you fit into this story of humanity? What are your unique encounters to which others may relate?

Take time to consider your mentors, your friends, your challenges, and your lessons.

The myth, however, does not end here, as the story continues. As the heroes of our own journeys, let us together embark upon adventures to better understand the encounters we all face, gaining for ourselves a greater development of our personality and character, and applying the lessons we learn to inspire hope for our community.

Let me paint a [not so] pretty picture for you. You pick out a perfect outfit—maybe a dress you got on sale at Forever 21, or a killer band tee from Hot Topic. You’re strutting across campus repping Chance the Rapper on your tee or showing off your farmer’s tan in that tank top dress, jamming (secretly) to Look What You Made Me Do. Then, suddenly, you see your arch enemy from across campus, walking down the street wearing the very same thing. What do you do? Hide behind a tree and hope no one notices? Cover up with an ugly sweatshirt that you never really liked anyways?

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There is a way to avoid this catastrophe. Forever21 and Hot Topic sell your special dress and your favorite band t-shirt in bulk, so you shouldn’t be surprised when you see everyone and their mother wearing them. If you want to buy unique clothing items, there’s one place to go: the thrift store. Not to mention, thrift stores are SO CHEAP. You could spend $40 on a shirt at PacSun, OR you could find a cooler shirt at a thrift store. One time I was thrift-shopping with my mom and grandma, and found this beautiful formal red dress. The zipper was broken, so it was going for three dollars, but it was name brand, fit perfectly, and I LOVED IT. My mom told me that I wasn’t going to be able to fix the zipper and it wasn’t worth it, but I was determined to prove her wrong. I ended up fixing it myself and wearing it to the Homecoming dance. Thank you, random Goodwill.

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Here are a couple pro tips for thrift shopping:

Try on full outfits. You might think a skirt is ugly,

but paired with the right (stained) tank top, it could be perfect. Don’t write something off just because it’s in a thrift store.

Thrift-shopping is a thrill that compares to skydiving or climbing a mountain. Okay, maybe that’s a little bit of an exaggeration, but there is a certain thrill in searching through unorganized bins for an unknown treasure. You never know what things you’ll find! You could get a killer dealer, ripping of thrift store employees who have no idea of the item’s worth, and you could find things that no one else has. And I’m not talking about your great-aunt’s one-of-a-kind handmade quilts.

Whenever I go to the grocery store with my dad, we end up coming home with far more groceries than were on the original list. Why is this, you ask? Maybe because I can sweet-talk my dad into buying me donuts, or maybe because being at the store makes you realize that you need many more things than you thought you needed. Thrifting has the same effect. You go with your friends to try on ugly sweaters and 80s prom dresses and end up finding something that you didn’t even know you needed—but have to have.

There is a certain history-making in the act of thrift-shopping.

Objects go from person to person, the original owner giving it to their sister for her birthday and that sister putting it in a white elephant gift exchange for Christmas and that recipient selling it at a garage sale and that customer later getting bored of it and donating it to a thrift store. Each object has a circle of life; you never know how many different hands have touched it (this isn’t meant to gross you out—it’s kinda cool if you think about it). Make up a long, rich history for the plaid skirt you found! Maybe Jennifer Aniston wore it before she landed her life-changing role on Friends. You never know.

Girls: go to the guys’ section to get the perfect, oversized sweaters for winter! The guys’ section is always much less picked-through and super stylish.

Try to look at as much as you can! The best things are usually hiding out of sight.

Don’t get discouraged; thrifting is pretty hit-andmiss, but when you find something you love it makes it all worth it.

There is a certain history-making in the act of thrift-shopping.

There are all kinds of thrift stores! Goodwill

or Salvation Army stores are great starting points, but there are others disguised as “consignment” or “vintage” shops. Do some exploring!

Find out the best sale days and go then! Thrift stores usually have certain days where colored tags are on sale.

Even if you only have $20 in your pocket, don’t pop tags. That’s not classy.

DEPTH THROUGH DISASTER CARRIE BAKER The natural world is both incredible and powerful. It gives and takes away; it provides and yet also possesses the power to deprive millions of people all over the world. Over the course of this past year, humanity has been forced to realize that we truly are at the mercy of what has felt like a merciless force to be reckoned with. Hurricanes Harvey, Irma, Jose, Katia, Lee and Maria were some of the strongest-observed storms in years, and ripped through the southernmost United States and Central America, decimating businesses and leaving many homeless Wildfires raged through the west destroying fertile land, livestock and livelihoods; and the death toll rose as earthquakes and their aftershocks shook Mexico to its core.

The natural world isn’t the only thing in unrest, however. This past year has been a year of division for the world, especially the continental United States. Operating in the background of society has been a screaming narrative of political, racial, social and religious divide. Whole families, organizations, institutions, states, countries and nations are in a battle of beliefs. We are shouting, but not listening. It’s too easy to sit back, observe, claim witness to a broken nation, and relinquish our faith in humanity.

However, if you look really closely, you might discover a latent narrative. Hidden in the trenches of the divide, unrest and chaos is a message of resilience sponsored by strangers reaching across the global table.

People all around the world are putting aside their beliefs and donating money, goods, time and prayers to those affected by these natural disasters. People are breaking down barriers that never should have existed to begin with, all for the sake of humanity. If you’re not already a part of this destruction, then you should be. I pray that victims never lose hope at the hands of a world that didn’t step up.

As I sit and reflect on all the turmoil in the world—at the power of the elements to which so many fall prey—I can’t help but think about the power that these elements possess, not just to take away, but to give. It’s apparent that the natural world is powerful, but the resilience of the people who inhabit it have the potential to be more powerful than these elemental disasters. As more strangers become neighbors, humanity’s reach extends further than we could ever imagine.

Stories are shared, tears are shed, and livelihoods are rebuilt. Through it all, one begins to realize that destruction—if it allows us to rebuild what was broken in the first place—may be an avenue of hope.

Perhaps its purpose is to restore a broken and divided humanity.

G N I T Comm S T I M U L A R E V O

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