desiGn lead
Hana Seals
editors
Yna Bollock
Lucas Cadigan-Carranza
Michael Combs
Oliver Kindt
Emelle Raschein
Sal Sandoval-Garduno
Leilany Sosa
rePorters
Adair Alvarez Rodriguez
Arlo Connally Stewart
Erina Corl
Henry Fliflet
Jordan Garcia
Elliott Kennedy
Marty Lees
Robert Louden
Cristan Molinelli-Ruberto
Nathan Kaito Morris
Amy Moore
Kevin Terlizzi-Bowes
Nicholas Vides
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Mark Fernquest
Albert Gregory
Anothersemester at Santa Rosa Junior College has come and gone, and with it, another edition of The Oak Leaf Magazine. From having our usual adviser, Anne Belden, abroad in London, to a massive presidential election, it was quite a surprise that we actually got this magazine done.
As first time co-editors-in-chief, we felt a tremendous responsibility to maintain The Oak Leaf’s standard of excellence, and we hope this magazine reflects that. We managed to not burn down the newsroom so that should count for something.
We’ve got quite the variety in this edition, ranging from an exploration of haunted places in Sonoma County all the way to an investigation into issues at SRJC’s dorms. All of these stories showcase the stellar work of our reporters and editors this semester, and we couldn’t be happier to share them with you.
As one of our stories in this magazine highlights—journalism is essential, and that will be especially true in the near future. Given the state of our country, journalism is arguably more important now than it’s ever been. Pull up a chair, sit back, relax and enjoy The Oak Leaf Fall 2024 Magazine!
Humbly,
Lucas Cadigan-Carranza & Oliver Kindt
While our usual captain, Anne Belden, was across the pond—sipping tea and eating crumpets teaching the study abroad program, Albert Gregory stepped in and steered The Oak Leaf boat. This year brought some rough waves in the form of an election year and the general difficulties of running a student news publication. Albert was able to not only keep this ship afloat but have it sail at full speed, guid-
ing us to produce well over 100 articles this semester. Albert played a vital role in helping bring the Oak Leaf’s inaugural election day broadcast to life. Through humor, knowledge and a genuine passion for journalism, he got us through every challenge and helped us achieve a plethora of triumphs. Albert has helped make this semester one for the books.
His ability to connect, motivate and lead us is a rare gift and we do not doubt that will make an incredible journalism professor wherever he goes. Thank you Albert Gregory for being the second-best Anne Belden in existence and though you will be truly missed here at The Oak Leaf we are all excited to see you continue to shape the future of journalism. We know this isn’t enough to pay you back for all the headaches we caused, but the editors of the Fall 2024 semester would like to dedicate this issue of the magazine to you.
Most Sonoma County locals enjoy the county’s regional parks for the wonderful opportunities to get fresh air, exercise and see the beautiful landscape of the North Bay. However, besides the scenic hiking trails, the parks offer several other recreational activities that allow people to feel a part of the community.
The Sonoma County Regional Parks Foundation hosts photography contests as fundraisers, with differing themes, guidelines and prizes that encourage visitors to embrace their creativity by capturing moments, pets and wildlife around the parks.
Some of the themes involve visiting specific parks such as Spring Lake Regional Park in honor of its 50th anniversary, celebrating the transition into spring, or putting a spotlight on furry companions. The park service uses the funds raised from the entrance fee and voting process to improve and maintain the park.
The prizes for high ranking photos vary between a membership at Session Climbing Gym, an annual regional park membership, free prints from Shutterbug, coasters depicting the beauty of our regional parks and cash.
Sonoma County Regional Park Executive Director Melissa Kelly said the
contests influence visitors' ever-changing perception of the parks.
“The Parks Foundation photography contests encourage participants to look at our spectacular regional parks with fresh eyes. The contests also remind folks who are looking at the photos of the many ways beauty manifests in our parks,” said Kelly.
Camping allows for a deeper connection with nature than a simple day hike, and Sonoma County offers over 50 regional parks and beaches with more than 200 year-round campsites. Options include tent camping, RVs, and trailers, while Spring Lake also features cabins accommodating up to eight people, equipped with sleeping platforms, grills, tables, and food lockers. Guests should bring bedding and lighting.
Sonoma County’s diverse camping environments range from coastal sites like Doran Regional Park, with ocean views and beach activities, to family-friendly
Spring Lake with seasonal swimming. Stillwater Cove offers shaded spots under towering redwoods, and Hood Mountain boasts 19 miles of hiking trails for adventurers.
Campsites are designed to provide seclusion and tranquility, offering campers a chance to immerse themselves in nature.
Fishing and boating culture attracts enthusiasts across the various county locations. Helen Putnam, Foothill and Riverfront park, as well as the 72-acre Spring Lake offer inland fishing, which attract blue gills, bass and sunfish, according to the Sonoma Regional Parks website.
Specifically along the Russian River where year-round fishing is possible, Riverfront Park’s Lake Benoist and Lake Wilson, notorious for their Bass, offer visitors a serene spot surrounded in redwood trees to fish.
Accompanying the bigger of the two lakes, Lake Benoist, a 2-mile trail loops around the lake and offers a way to get to a small gravel beach along the Russian River, also known for its fishing spots. These lakes offer good spots for canoeing and kayaking as well, where guests make their way further into the water to fish.
Sonoma County offers several developed boat launches at Regional Parks, with fees of $4 for trailered boats or free for members.
Key locations include Doran Regional Park and Westside Regional Park in Bodega Bay, both with wheelchair-accessible kayak launches, and several spots along the Russian River, such as Cloverdale River Park and Guerneville River Park, which cater to small craft and non-motorized watercraft.
Steelhead Beach Regional Park offers a gravel launch for various boats, while Wohler Bridge provides seasonal access for small craft. In Santa Rosa, Spring Lake Regional Park offers launches for boats up to 16 feet and electric motors only, with additional kayak rentals
available during the summer at the Violetti Road entrance.
For those near Southern Sonoma County, the Hudeman Slough Boat Launch provides access to the San Pablo Bay National Wildlife Refuge. Additionally, kayaking, canoeing and paddle boarding are popular at Spring Lake, where they offer rentals during the summer.
Disc golf enthusiasts are also flocking to Sonoma County’s regional parks. Crane Creek Regional Park and Taylor Mountain, located in Rohnert Park and Santa Rosa respectively, offer disc golf these courses separately from their hiking paths. With varying courses set against stunning backdrops of rolling hills, vineyards and creek beds, these parks offer beautiful settings for both seasoned and novice players.
Disc golf in Sonoma County has its devoted contingent of players, making courses a community experience. Crane Creek’s disc golf course is 18 holes, and spans from Fiddleneck trail to the namesake of the park. Taylor Mountain’s 18-hole course is paired with 7 miles of hiking trails, with new trails to be added, and a children’s play area. Both courses differ in terrain, making for straight forward shots, and more technical shots through trees, allowing a plethora of people to enjoy.
Whether it's capturing the beauty of the parks through photography, enjoying a peaceful camping getaway, or engaging in outdoor activities like boating, fishing, or disc golf, Sonoma County’s regional parks offer something for everyone. With diverse landscapes ranging from coastal views to towering redwoods, and a variety of recreational opportunities, these parks foster a sense of community and connection to nature.
(Top) Basket 13 basks in the sunset at the disc golf course at Crane Creek Regional Park. (Middle) Park goer, Lydia Miyako Morris sits on a boating dock and ponders during a family day out at the Spring Lake Boat Launch. (Bottom) A Western Bluebird sits proudly atop a tree at Helen Putnam Regional Park.
A conversation with Santa Rosa Junior College’s sports announcer, Trey Dunia, about player engagement and his infamous sound bites.
[Note: The following interview has been edited for length and clarity.]
Oak Leaf: How did you get started with the athletic department at SRJC?
Trey Dunia: I was announcing football at Analy High School, and I wanted to move up to the college level so I called Lenny [Wagner, SRJC football’s head coach,] and asked to meet with him. He told me that they had an announcer, but there was one game he could not make. I said, “Well, great! I’ll fill in. That’s perfect.”
I went to the first game to see how he did it, and then the next game I did it on my own. After that, I got a call from the regular announcer asking me if I was interested in announcing the rest of the season — of course I was — and that’s how I got it. That is how I have gotten most of my gigs as an announcer.
OL: What else do you announce? Have you announced other sports prior to being at the SRJC?
TD: I fell into announcing one year when they needed someone for a little league game in Sebastopol and thought it was really fun. Then my kids played in youth football the following year on the Analy field, so it was a natural progression to start doing the varsity football [announcing] for Analy. I figured out I was a better announcer than I was a coach.
Besides football, I announce men’s and women’s basketball, volleyball and softball at the JC. With [women’s] basketball, I got a call from Lacey [ Campbell, the head coach,] and she asked, 'Have you ever announced basketball?’ and I never had but I told her I did. It was the Karen Frenchie Tournament, and I showed up not knowing anything, but I figured that I would learn it.
I’d been to basketball games. I know what they say…I just have to do it. Lacey gave me a couple of pointers as the games went on. Remember the format back then was four games in a day over three days so there was a lot of time to adjust. Again, I was just filling in for their regular guy that season, but the following season they called me and asked me to take over.
OL: What do you do when you are not announcing for the school?
TD: During the school year, I announce here and at Sonoma State University (SSU). During the summer, I am the on-field announcer for the Sonoma Stompers, a college summer travel baseball team out of Sonoma. I started with them in 2015 as the PA announcer. After the pandemic, it took us two seasons to get back to playing the game. The general manager and I really had to go back and restructure. We brainstormed what we could do to bring people back to Arnold Field, and I brought up the on-field announcer position and he agreed. I get to create on-field games and interact with the crowd. Not something I can do as a PA announcer.
OL: Being an on-field announcer is so interactive. How do you keep that same level of energy going when you are restricted to the PA box?
TD: I see the reactions from where I am in any of the games, so I have come to know that if I play certain trending sounds. I know they’ll have reactions from the crowd. If I play the 'We Will Rock You' sound clip, the stands are shaking from the ‘stomp, stomp, clap'.”
The stands’ energy then brings it to the players in the game. Our cheer team does an amazing job responding to my sound bites. I am in awe of their incredible ability to dance to any song I play — and in unison I might add. It really gets the crowd going and they’ve been an integral part to bringing good energy into the games. I’m grateful to them because they are the biggest group of fans I know that will interact with me, and in turn gets others in the crowd going.
OL: Do you have a favorite sport to announce?
TD: When Ally [Sather, the SRJC volleyball head coach,] asked me to announce, I wasn’t really sure since I hadn't done it before, but how could I say no? I tried it out, and now volleyball is one of my favorite sports to announce because there's so much action.
Win or lose there are great plays on both sides of the net every single set. I get an opportunity to add my own little twist. Whenever the home team gets a point —- boom — hit the music. It's a 3- to 8-second clip of a hit song that everyone knows and then it fades right before the next serve.
I think that the players like it. Ally has said that they love it. I enjoy that. And because I was so enthralled with announcing volleyball at SRJC, I reached out to SSU to see if they needed someone for their home games.
OL: What does it mean to you to be a part of the SRJC athletics team?
TD: Let me just say that I love being the announcer for SRJC. The fact that I do football, men’s and women’s basketball, volleyball, and softball, I’m very proud to be able to do that.
I believe in the school. I believe in the product that they have and I think that the [athletics department] trusts me to be the voice of their programs. I’m very proud of that. Nobody comes to the sporting games for the PA announcer, except maybe my dad — but if there’s a way that I am able to increase the level of entertainment and make it more fun, that’s what I do and it means the most to me to be able to do that. I like taking the game and elevating it. I believe I have been able to do that at all the sports that I have announced at, be it at SSU, Little League, the Sonoma Stompers or right here at SRJC. League, the Sonoma Stompers or right here at SRJC.
Fire alarms, substandard fire safety, uncleanliness, an understaffed resident adviser program and an apathetic development and management company, Servitas, have made life at the dormitory potentially less appealing than off-campus housing.
By Emelle Raschein & Oliver Kindt
Mason Koski sat bundled in his car with the heater running, attempting to keep warm on a cold, rainy October night. He stayed there for two hours while smoke slowly cleared out of the windowless kitchen on the first floor of Polly O’Meara Doyle Hall.
Koski and 351 other residents had begrudgingly evacuated the building due to a fire alarm at 2 a.m., just as they had a few hours earlier at 10:30 p.m., and before that at 6 p.m. Just as they have 40-plus times — in excess of once every 11 days — since the dormitory opened in August 2023.
For Koski and the other residents, fire alarms comprise only one of the several major problems that plagued the first year-and-a-half of dormitory life at Santa Rosa Junior College’s new Polly O’Meara Doyle Hall.
The dormitory is a public-private partnership funded by tax-exempt,
project-based debt financing. Owned by the National Campus and Community Development Corporation (NCCD), it will transfer ownership after the debt is repaid, with no college funding involved.
Upon opening prior to the fall 2023 semester, the dormitory seemed like a great opportunity for students looking for affordable, on-campus housing. The 30-second commute to class certainly seemed like a benefit, but according to residents, the cons outweigh the pros.
Fire alarms, substandard fire safety, uncleanliness, an understaffed resident adviser (RA) program and an apathetic development and management company, Servitas, have made life at the dormitory potentially less appealing than off-campus housing, according to many of its residents.
Fire Hazards
“This is a brand-new building that
I’m sure the SRJC touts as ‘State of the art’ but has major design flaws when it comes to fire safety,” Santa Rosa Engine 11 Capt. Gunnar Dean wrote in a Nov. 4, 2023, email to Battalion Chief Jason Jenkins.
On May 7, 2024, The Oak Leaf obtained email correspondences, through a California Public Records Act (CPRA) request, from officials with the Santa Rosa Fire Department that said they believed the constant evacuations created evacuation fatigue for students and could cause a serious threat to human life if an actual fire were to happen at the dormitory.
“Each of these incidents is displacing dozens to hundreds of students, each occurrence causing undue hardship as students evacuate until we allow them to re-occupy the building and winter weather has not even arrived yet,” Dean wrote.
For Chloe Crowder, a first-time resident in fall 2024, this fatigue has set in after only three months.
“I remember the last fire alarm, I was so annoyed,” she said. “I was like, ‘Do I have to leave? Can I just wait it out?’ And [my roommates] were like, ‘Yes Chloe, we have to go.’ I was so mad about that.”
In an interview with The Oak Leaf, David Braden, Servitas’ senior vice president of asset management and operations, blamed the fire alarm issues entirely on the residents.
“The fire alarms were actually caused by students not paying attention to their cooking,” Braden said. “Unfortunately we can’t do a great deal to solve that. I think the ventilation system is working properly.”
Braden seemed to imply that Servitas did not account for college students being inexperienced cooks, and according to Crowder, the alarm sometimes goes off for no reason.
“[The alarm] is horrible, and it’s very sensitive,” Crowder said. “Once I set off the fire alarm and I didn’t even burn anything. I was making a grilled cheese.”
A current RA — who requested to remain anonymous in fear of retaliation — who has lived at the dorms since they opened and has been an RA since the beginning of the fall 2024 semester, confirmed this.
“It doesn't take much smoke to set that thing off,” they said.
The ventilation system was not set up properly, according to Fire Capt. Dean in the same Nov. 4, 2023, email. Dean said that the kitchen needs ventilation to outside air, such as windows that open, as well as a stove hood that pumps air outside the building rather than recycling the air back into the kitchen, contrary to Braden’s claim.
Dean also recommended adding an HVAC system in the kitchen to help clear the air of smoke before the fire alarm goes off.
Braden said that no updates have been made to the windows or ventilation, but
he did mention that there were ongoing discussions about making improvements to the smoke detectors.
“We had a meeting with the fire department earlier this week and discussed some minor changes that could be made, like changing a smoke detector into a heat detector, that might alleviate some things,” Braden said in the Nov. 6, 2024 interview.
In an email obtained via a public records request from Oct. 16, 2023 — over a year before the interview with Braden — Assistant Fire Marshal Mike Johnson recommended that the smoke detectors be replaced with heat detectors. Servitas’ senior vice president of construction services, Steve Groh, was included in this email thread.
The ventilation isn’t the only potential fire hazard. In a Nov. 7, 2023, email, Assistant Fire Marshal Johnson expressed concern over the lack of Emergency Vehicular Access (EVA).
“When I was out there for the final walk there was access off Elliott Avenue as well as Armory Drive. Since then it appears the Elliot Avenue access has been eliminated. I am looking for any approval or agreement for the site plan,” Johnson said. “Having this many units (over 50) with only one EVA is not approved by us. The State doesn’t adopt Appendix D of the Fire Code (access requirements) so I am also curious what standard was used for this.”
Groh was included in this email thread as well. He replied with the approved plan, which had been signed off by Assistant Fire Marshal Ian Hardage.
Johnson expressed his frustration directly to Division Chief Fire Marshal Paul Lowenthal after forwarding him the thread.
“Well, that sucks, but I’m glad it wasn’t me,” Lowenthal wrote in response.
“Ohhhh Ian, WTF,” Johnson responded in the email directly to fellow Assistant Fire Marshal’s Kemplen Robbins and Jared McDaniel.
Upon investigating the dormitory on Nov. 7, 2024, Oak Leaf reporters confirmed that there is still only one EVA more than a year later. Though no changes have been made to the lot’s EVAs, as of Nov. 19, 2024 Lowenthal claims the lot is compliant and meets fire codes.
“The building was approved for occupancy, but it’s important to understand that this is a [Division of the State Architecture] project,” Lowenthal wrote in an email to The Oak Leaf.
Another public records request made on Oct. 27, 2024, revealed an email sent on Aug. 29, 2024, from Assistant Fire Marshal Johnson to Groh expressing further concerns about fire safety.
“Not sure if this is still the correct working group for this issue, however as students are now back in the dorms, our crews have already begun responding to nuisance alarms at the dorms due to cooking smoke in the kitchens (three times in two days),” Johnson wrote in the email. “Apparently the hood ex-
For residents, fire alarms comprise only one of the several major problems that plagued the first year-and-a-half of dormitory life at Santa Rosa Junior College’s new Polly O’Meara Doyle Hall.
haust from the oven/stove recirculates the air back into the kitchen and not outside. Can we confirm this? With the lack of openable windows it’s a very tedious and time consuming operation to evacuate the smoke so the alarm system will clear.”
Upon investigating the dormitory on Nov. 7, 2024, Oak Leaf reporters confirmed that the hood exhaust appears to still function the same as Johnson recalls.
The Oct. 27, 2024, CPRA request also revealed a draft for a letter written by Fire Marshall Lowenthal on Sept. 24, 2024, addressing the frequent nuisance alarms. The request did not reveal who exactly the letter was sent to. In an email chain with other SRFD colleagues, Lowenthal discussed what should go in the letter.
“I think there needs to be mention of the actions we’ve taken, options we’ve provided, maybe the number of attempts we’ve made to address their issue and their lack of taking measures to correct the actions,” he wrote.
Johnson replied and made edits to Lowenthal's letter.
“Not sure if this is too direct on blaming them but they are aware and have
been notified but do nothing,” Johnson wrote.
In an email to The Oak Leaf, Lowenthal wrote about the results of this letter.
“The letter prompted a beneficial and productive meeting between Santa Rosa Fire Department, Santa Rosa Junior College, and their service provider for the dormitory,” Lowenthal said.
In addition to frequent fire alarm evacuations, a lackluster RA program has made life at the dorms worse than anticipated, according to multiple residents, including, but not limited to, dorm residents like Koski and Crowder.
Of the 10 RAs employed at the beginning of the fall 2023 semester, only two made it to the end of the school year, according to Wilson, residents and RAs.
“Most of them got fired for either being intoxicated and getting high,” Koski said. “Another got fired for leaving his job during hours to go f*ck girls on one of the floors. Another one of them got fired for just being rude to people and not really giving a shit about the job.”
Koski saw the RA hiring standards continue to decline.
“They just kind of hired whoever,” he said. “I mean. They hired a minor. They turned 18, but they were still hired when they were a minor and were a minor for the first month that they were working.” A current-semester RA verified this claim.
Koski, Crowder and other residents, who requested to remain anonymous due to fear of retaliation, all agreed that the RA staff is absent and unhelpful when residents need them.
“How are you supposed to report it to the RAs when they are also partaking in these things — or are the problem — in these instances?” Koski said.
Ben Wilson, director of residence life, attributed the issues to a need for “better training from the Servitas side and the JC side to retain students and retain RAs.”
The anonymous RA confirmed that the training is subpar.
“We were given a week to train before move-in day,” they said. “That is not nearly enough.”
Crowder originally applied for and was approved to be in a double room with one roommate, but was switched into a six-person apartment after Servitas staff oversold the double rooms. Thankfully, Crowder still only pays the double room price of $1,020 a month as opposed to her roommates, who pay $1,700 monthly.
Crowder claims the suite she lives in isn’t worth the money, and it’s easy to see why. One of the two bathrooms in the apartment doesn’t even have a proper shower head.
“The shower is just a hole,” Crowder said. “It’s like a spigot. When they come in to fix it, it’s so funny, they just put grease on it and then leave.”
According to multiple residents, nobody took out the dormitory trash for nearly the entirety of April 2024. Flies swarmed the kitchens, bathrooms, trash room and several residents’ rooms.
Furthermore, Koski said the dormitory staff did not inform residents of the
infestation until a month after the fact, by which time residents were buying their own fly traps for their rooms. He added that he still finds fruit flies to this day, seven months later.
In addition to the flies, the bathrooms are also a major issue.
“The shower curtains they had last year were very susceptible to mold growing,” Koski said. “In one of the bathrooms on my floor, there was mold growing in one of the stalls. There’s one that still doesn’t have a lock on it. There was one that had paint and plaster falling off the ceiling in one of the handicap stalls.”
Multiple residents claim there is black mold but The Oak Leaf was unable to verify this.
Koski said Servitas finally fixed the cheap and flimsy towel racks that previously broke with ease.
But, according to Crowder, the dryers in the laundry room are still a major issue.
“A lot of the machines are always out, and the dryers are always broken,” Crowder said. “The dryers are disgusting. Even if you take out all of the lint and everything, your clothes would be gross after you put them in there. They just come out covered in hair.”
Upon investigating the first floor of the dormitory on Nov. 7, 2024, Oak Leaf reporters found stained couches in the lounge area, a foul-smelling kitchen with no windows and a refrigerator
holding milk that had expired three months prior.
Looking back on Servitas’ history, not delivering on expectations appears to be a trend.
In an interview with The Oak Leaf, Bill Hudson—the editor of the Colorado-based Pagosa Daily Post—said Servitas is to blame for an affordable workforce housing project originally established to house nurses in Pagosa Springs during the Covid-19 pandemic that has still yet to be built.
“Servitas responded to a request for a project proposal and presented themselves as someone that could build affordable housing,” Hudson said. “At that point they hadn’t built any workforce housing.”
The Pagosa Springs City Council awarded the project to Servitas in 2021, according to Hudson. The Texas-based company has still yet to break ground. This has not stopped Servitas officials from announcing four new workforce housing projects set to open in 2025 and 2026, with three planned for Colorado and one in Miami.
Hudson explained that much like Santa Rosa, Pagosa Springs generates the majority of its income from tourism.
“People are making $15, maybe $20 an hour, and the houses are $600,000. It’s
just not functional for our economy at the moment,” he said.
This contradicts Servitas’ claims of bringing “missing middle” housing supply to much-needed areas.
Servitas also hasn’t delivered on several promises for Polly O’Meara Doyle Hall. According to the company’s website, the SRJC dormitory features a “roof terrace” with a view of the property and a “kitchen garden” where they claim students can grow their own food to “support healthy living.”
Braden confirmed that the “roof terrace” does not exist.
According to Koski this rooftop deck and garden aren’t the only things that Servitas falsely advertised. When he first moved into the dorms, Koski expected the closet described in the lease agreement, however he was met with what he describes as “a shelf.”
Though the absence of the promised closet was disappointing, this breach in honesty hinted at a larger problem with the student housing company.
“You have people pay for a dorm thinking that there would be closets. It’s that it just kind of gave me the idea of, oh, this company is not going to care,” Koski said.
Residents were also falsely told there would be a meal plan.
“They tried to first say in the very beginning that there would be a meal plan,” Koski said. “Then they tried to argue that a meal plan is giving dorm students the access to a card that they can load money on and get slight discounts at the school cafeteria. That’s not what a f*cking meal plan is.”
According to the anonymous RA, Servitas is notoriously difficult to get in touch with.
“I have a lot of personal grievances against Servitas and how they don't really tend to get back to us very easily,” they said.
According to Koski, conditions at the dorms have improved since last year. The RA program is now competently staffed, and outside of the first floor kitchen and lounge area, the dormitory staff cleans the facilities and common spaces more often.
“I would say that the quality of living has increased exponentially,” Koski said. “There’s still obviously a lot of lingering things, but it has gotten a lot better.”
Hoping to influence change for himself and his fellow residents, Koski spoke to SRJC President Dr. Angélica Garcia, Vice President of Student Services
Molly Senecal and Vice President of Finance and Administrative Services Kate Jolley, all of whom were unaware of the dormitory issues, and said that change began after these conversations.
“The school is now being like, ‘You need to tell us what’s going on. If there are any issues, you need to fix those ASAP,’” Koski said. “I’m grateful that the board of trustees also put a lot of pressure on both [Servitas] and also on admin to actually start doing something.”
Sarah Pew, SRJC senior director of marketing, communications and public affairs, wrote about SRJC’s involvement with the dormitory in an email to The Oak Leaf.
“SRJC is dedicated to providing students with a safe, supportive, and
healthy environment where they can achieve their academic and personal goals, including those residing in Polly O’Meara Doyle Hall,” Pew wrote. “Student health and safety are our top priorities, and we work diligently to uphold these standards.“
Kaya Clark, a member of student government who lives in the dormitory, has
been appointed as a representative of the housing complex. Though she only recently started in her new role, she plans to act as a communication bridge between the residents and SGA.
“Finding ways to improve [communication] or create a system where it can be improved are some of my top priorities,” Clark said.
Koski is hopeful for the future but believes Servitas won’t make improvements without continued pressure from SRJC administration.
“This is like keeping track of a petulant little child,” Koski said. “You have to keep putting that pressure. You have to keep holding [Servitas] accountable. I think if they keep doing that, you will see great improvement.”
Santa Rosa Junior College 1501 Mendocino Ave Santa Rosa, CA 95401
Re: False/Nuisance Alarms, 1950 Armory Dr, Santa Rosa (Occ ID 10412)
To Whom is May Concern,
You are receiving this invoice because the Santa Rosa Fire Department (SRFD) has responded to an excessive number of false/nuisance alarms at Santa Rosa Junior College Dormitory, located at 1950 Armory Dr during the 2024 calendar year. The Fire Department allows for one false/nuisance response per calendar year with no fee assessed. Any response to false alarm/nuisance calls after the initial response will be billed.
Since January of 2024, SRFD responded to eleven fire alarm calls at the location above determined to be nuisance alarms based on activities including cooking and smoking within the facility. Additionally, SRFD personnel have been in communication with Santa Rosa Junior College representatives in an effort to provide assistance in finding solutions for these nuisance alarms. Currently, no attempt at a solution has been proposed by SRJC and the alarms persist.
Santa Rosa City Ordinance 18-44.202 defines a nuisance alarm as an unwarranted/preventable alarm caused by mechanical failure, malfunction, improper installation or lack of proper maintenance, system servicing testing, construction activities, ordinary household activities, false alarm, other cause when no such danger exists, or an alarm activated by a cause that cannot be determined. Santa Rosa City Ordinance 1844.401.3.2.1 further states that notification of emergency responders based on a nuisance alarm may be punishable by a fine in accordance with the adopted fee schedule or requirements. In addition, the responsible party may be liable for the operational and administrative costs incurred from the emergency response or mitigation procedures resulting from a nuisance alarm notification.
SRFD is committed to working with your facility to help mitigate future nuisance alarms. If you have any questions regarding this invoice, please do not hesitate to contact me.
Sincerely,
Paul Lowenthal Division Chief/Fire Marshal
(Top) An SRJC student makes use of the kitchen at the Polly O'Meara Doyle Hall. (Bottom) An Oct. 27, 2024 public records request also revealed a letter written by Fire Marshall Lowenthal on Sept. 24, 2024, addressing the frequent nuisance alarms at the dormitory.
imagine moving to a new city, not knowing a soul. Or moving back to your hometown but not feeling connected to the community you once knew. How about feeling lost following years of self-isolation after a global pandemic? These daunting feelings are those of local Sonoma County women and Santa Rosa Junior College students looking for community.
SRJC students spend much of their time sitting in classrooms and commuting to and from school, so it can be challenging to build a community despite being on a college campus. The SRJC community may appreciate an introduction to SoCoGalsWalk.
Business student Francisca Macchia, 27, created the social walking group for students fed up with sedentary life. The group focuses on inclusivity and building a community around Sonoma County. Each month, Macchia sets up gatherings such as nature walks or trivia nights at breweries around the county. Their goal is to help like-minded people meet and be social.
Originally from Arizona, Macchia
moved to Sonoma County in 2021. Working from home during the COVID-19 pandemic, she found it difficult to make connections in her new city. Eventually, she formed the group in June 2023 after gaining inspiration from a similar social group in her hometown. “I thought that I could do that here. Especially since I wasn’t finding a space just for making friends,” Macchia said
The group has an Instagram page and a Discord channel, @Socogalswalk, where members can plan individual meetups in addition to the group events
headed by Macchia. SoCoGalsWalk’s motto is displayed in its Instagram bio: “ALL are welcome.”
Inclusivity was crucial to Macchia. “I wanted this group to not have a lot of barriers to entry, so being really inclusive, low cost [and] friendly,” she said. She had noticed Sonoma County lacked a space for women and queer people to just make friends. “I didn’t want there to be any pressure that you would come to a group like this and it would be like a dating thing.”
In 2015, The Press Democrat detailed a study conducted by Sonoma State University Assistant Sociology Professor Brian Gillespie, stating it was one of the most comprehensive studies on friendships. It stated, “People reported an average of four friends each, spread out over a lifetime, with numbers dropping as men and women aged.”
SoCoGalsWalk held a nature walk at Joe Rodota Trail on Oct. 26. Attendees joined Macchia at the meetup location, Coffee and Moore, in Sebastopol. While some of the arrivals were regulars—
greeting each other by name and asking how they’ve been since the last event — some were attending their first SoCoGalsWalk event. Timidly walking up to the growing circle of girls, they were instantly included in the conversation.
The trail was paved and flat, perfect for an hour of casual walking among new friends. As the group began their trek, bikers passed swiftly, calling out, “On your left, girls!” Down the path the pack went, basking under the sun and shady patches the trees provided. The forest awakened as the group traversed the path, footsteps on gravel and chatter among the gals enlivening the quiet walkway.
Teresa Righetti, 23, a nursing assistant in Santa Rosa, walked toward the end of the line of gals. She recently became a regular at the SoCoGalsWalk events after finding the group through one of her friends on social media. Like Macchia, she wanted to make more friends after returning to Sonoma County after a stint in Southern California.
“It’s nice to be in a group where people want to meet people,” Righetti said.
Righetti enjoyed the wine-tasting event Macchia set up with Notre Vue Estate Winery and Vineyards in Windsor. The winery provided the group with a discounted wine tasting and tour around their pristine property.
They sipped wine in the sunshine on the patio, overlooking the vast vineyards. The women were able to chat with one another on the lounges over a couple of splashes of some of Notre Vue’s best wines. “I’d like to go back, it was so pretty,” Righetti said.
Yisela Guzman, a SoCoGalsWalk regular, appreciates the variety of events the group offers. “There is something for everyone,” Guzman said. She likes the craft nights and book club Macchia hosts.
Cassidy Michaels, 24, helped lead the walk once the gals hit the turnaround mark. Michaels moved to Santa Rosa for her career, from Colorado, and had few connections in Santa Rosa before relocating. The Oct. 26 walk was her second event with SoCoGalsWalk, and she is a fan so far.
“I feel more attached to where I live now. I have a reason to stay here,” Michaels said. “[It was] a little bit lonely only having work friends. It’s a different vibe having friends outside of work.”
While walking back to the meet-up location, Michaels and others bonded over popular music. Michaels sported a Noah Kahan shirt, and the gals learned that some of them attended the same concert in Berkeley over the summer without knowing it.
Macchia always ends the walks with an offer to stay and chat for a while. The gals circled up by Coffee and Moore and discussed Halloween weekend plans. Some of them also exchanged contact information and Instagram handles to connect in the future.
Macchia estimates that 200 people have attended one event or another since she launched the group in 2023. “It’s something that I started to do to make friends for myself, and now I don’t want to stop doing it because I see the friendships other people make. That keeps me wanting to do it,” she said.
Many visitors of the Washoe House have claimed to see strange things happen with these mirrors, which some believe as being a portal to another dimension.
The Washoe House, on the corner of Stony Point Road and Roblar Road, has been a stop for highway travelers for over 160 years. Built as an inn and stable house during the burgeoning years of the California Gold Rush, it stands today as one of the few preserved historical landmarks where you can get a meal and enjoy its lively interior. Ornate lanterns, wooden walls and jovial guests; you could easily come
Story & Photos by Kevin Terlizzi-Bowes
to imagine a similar experience well over a hundred years ago.
Becky Ritter, 54, has been a server at the Washoe House for over seven years, and has not just heard about other employee’s encounters but has had her own fair share of odd occurrences.
One day on a morning shift, Ritter had opened the restaurant and found that one of the dollar bills that was pinned to the ceiling had fallen on the bar counter. In the Washoe House, it’s a tradition to pin money with your name written on it on the ceiling, an old practice dating back to the gold mining days when a dollar could get you home in an emergency. With so many dollars that could fall, it didn’t really catch Ritter’s attention until she saw her name written on it.
Although it was a bit weird to her, she dismissed it as being a coworker’s prank and continued her shift. Everything continued to be normal until she told the story to a father and his daughters at one of her tables.
“I was telling them the story about the dollar, and then one of the girls
suddenly screamed,” Ritter said.”At the moment I told the story, a dollar fell from the ceiling and landed right between my feet.”
Ritter is one of the many who have had a similar supernatural experience in the old haunts of Sonoma County. The bright, happy valleys and hills of Sonoma County hold a welcoming community with gorgeous places and beautiful views that it's hard to imagine it is all that spooky. After all, it has been a long time since the asylums shut down, old mining caves filled in, or the little remembered Californian slave trade when frontiersman flocked to the state in the gold rush; where dreams and gold dust became lost at card tables or in the shady back alleys of flap houses. And that is not to mention the dozens of cults that have sprouted up over the years.
As the intentions of Sonoma’s history falls to the wayside in the rush of the modern day, it becomes easy to soak in the a-historical bliss of the unmarked graveyards that surround the ruins of the Jack London’s Wolf House, the silent halls of the Sonoma Developmental Center, or the bustling Washoe
House diner which has been serving patrons for over 160 years.
It’s without this bliss, but rather an open mind and a proper regard for history that draws one to those very places to investigate them, to speak with the people who know their history, and to help you decide: Is Sonoma County haunted?
Built by the successful and award-winning novelist Jack London, the Wolf House was constructed from 1910 to 1913 as London’s dream house on a massive 1,400 acre property. However, anyone who has heard of the esteemed Wolf House also knows it was the victim of a fire that left only the rocky foundations
and fireplaces that still stand today.
The Sonoma Development Center main building is locked down and completely inaccessible.
This incident traumatized the London family, who had put so much effort into its construction, that they then vowed to rebuild the mansion. Reconstruction was put into motion, but Jack London’s health rapidly declined and he soon passed away in 1916, leaving the mourning London family to abandon the project and move on.
Now, the monument to lost dreams rests silently among the beautiful hills of Glen Ellen as part of the Jack London State Historic Park, just a short walk from the gravesite where Jack London and his wife Charmian London rest.
Locals who have visited in the past have said that there have been very odd
and paranormal activities at the park and around the house. Some posters on online forums claimed to have felt an ominous presence, and even had visions of the building on fire.
But upon entering the park and beginning the hike to the Wolf House, the sight of the quiet forest and the wafts of fresh warm air energizes one’s spirit for exploration. The hike was calm, even as the grave site of the Londons drew closer. Utilizing modern technology like the Spirit Box , a phone application that claims to let you communicate with the dead, one can try to see how lively the connection to the spirit world is at this hallowed site. Immediately upon opening it, there was a ton of chatter from the app, more than had presented itself at other haunts such as the Washoe House. Voices saying to leave, to explain why someone would trespass on this otherworldly ground, asking questions interspersed with gasps and random classical music notes all filled the air.
However, that wasn’t all too scary. A skeptical person should realize this was a phone app that had who knows what in its coding to make it say certain words. That is until entering the Wolf House and bringing out the app once more to cheekily ask if anyone wanted to make a deal.
“That is…possible…however,” the spirit box said, stopping into silence, the sounds of forest critters scurrying through dead leaves made my skepticism lapse. Every sound of the forest heightened as the spirit box remained worryingly silent.
Each bulb on the projector has an eyelid-like cover that closes when the light gets low to protect audiences from harsh, direct light.
Shut down in 2018 after a long standing operation spanning well over 130 years. It was once an institution for people with developmental disabilities, with housing, gardens, small parks and dozens of smaller amenities that made it a small town rather than just a hospital. However as the need for developmental facilities shifted and citations on patient deaths mounted, the hospital was given no choice but to close down.
Now after six years of closure, the sprawling complex lays dormant with locked doors and empty interiors. No one was willing to go on record about any hauntings, since they would be admitting to a misdemeanor to go inside the buildings. However, there are many local rumors that one could hear about this place, some legends which make some not want to visit at all: hearing weird noises, seeing apparitions, feeling a sense of dread. All of these occurrences in an old hospital setting are the thing of nightmares and horror movies.
Touring the premises gave a perturbed sensation looking through the dusty old windows, peering into desolite hallways and dusty waiting rooms bathed in a sterile fluorescent light. Even upon finding an unlocked door to one of the main hospital buildings, nothing could entice this reporter to delve into the derelict space ahead which held a sort of solemn sanctity one dare not break.
The morbid curiosity continued to peak curiosity as cold air filled with the melange of stale air and old chemicals. The discolored walls and dusty floors screamed with mystery, the terrifying silence of a building that held nothing but the unknown was deafening. My heart racing, I ignored the enticing cosmic offer for adventure. The creaking of wood, the rustling of debris, and I gently closed the door.
Ritter, the waitress, approached my table with a menu and asked if there was anything she could bring besides my water.
“Actually yeah, do you have any ghost stories about this place?”
Barely finishing my sentence her eyes became alert, her gaze on the wall over my shoulder.
“There have been times where I just have to walk out, ‘I’m done’,” she said.
Excited by the stories and atmosphere of this restaurant, this reporter was even more elated to be given a short tour upstairs where supposedly the most activity takes place. As soon as the stairs came into view, there was this weird sensation as if someone were watching from the top step. The feeling dissipated up stairs into the ballroom, a large empty place lined with mirrors where guests would sometimes catch the glimpse of a woman in a ball gown.
Staring into the mirror intently, the mirror cascaded in itself and pulled passerbyers gaze into reflections of reflections as mirror reflected mirror. Each glint of light from the passing cars below put my mind into overdrive as my eyes tried to catch every movement.
We left the ballroom and Ritter pointed out a small room to the right of the stairs, where some employees at the Washoe House refused to go. One ghost hunter had gotten Spirit Box responses so clear that a bartender who had been overseeing his hunt had bolted out the room and down the stairs.
“Once when I was alone up here closing for the night, I saw the chain on the door swinging like someone had just walked through the door,” Ritter said matter of factly as we entered the room, which let out a burst of cold, old timeyair that smelled reminiscent of dusty leather. As we stood in the room, I had brought up the Spirit Box app on my phone on muted volume as we talked. But upon realizing the phone was muted and turned it up to start asking questions, an annoyed voice asked, “Can you hear me?” I stayed there a bit longer, but the Spirit Box didn’t say anything else remotely that audible.
After that, the room started to have a rather foreboding feeling, as if lingering in someone’s bedroom after they asked you to leave. And so I left, the increasing awe for the Washoe House stirring inside me like the onion rings I had ordered there.
By Marty Lees
School mascots are the sort of American kitsch that I’ll admit my fellow Brits can sometimes view a little cynically. So, when I was tasked to write a story on the redesign of Santa Rosa Junior College’s “Rosco,” I was intrigued to get a closer look and learn more about a tradition that was somewhat foreign to me. What I wasn’t prepared for was the mystery I would encounter.
My investigation began with Sarah Laggos, SRJC’s Director of Philanthropy, who, after 12 years of service to the school, was tasked with the effort of bringing Rosco up to date. Laggos introduced me to Rosco’s long and rich history, and she may just be his biggest fan. A bear cub has represented SRJC since its founding in 1918, though he went unnamed for the first few decades.
As student Roderick Craig wrote in an article that opened the first SRJC yearbook for the class of 1921, “The junior college is a branch of the University of California [Berkeley]; their emblem is the bear, hence ours is the bear cub.”
Since its opening, SRJC has been
considered a “feeder school” to U.C. Berkeley and Stanford, drawing from them the school’s colors of blue and red respectively — giving Rosco his livery then and now — but not for 30 years would he get his name, according to Laggos.
After a contest attracting 50 entries, Rosco, suggested by students F. Eugene Ward and Greg Brethards, was chosen as the winner. If you’ve ever wondered why there is no ‘e’ on the end of Rosco, as reported by the Oak Leaf on Apr. 26, 1950, “The ‘Ros’ part of the name is for Rosa. The ‘Co’ part is for college.”
Over the years, Rosco has propagated many looks when it comes to his branding.
“That was part of our challenge,” Laggos said. “Since 1920 there had been 25 different looks of Rosco, and in 2023 alone, there were eight different versions in use.” Designs varied from black bears to brown bears, realistic bears to cartoon bears.
“That’s when we came together and said it’s time for SRJC to have one look;
one unified image of Rosco that we can build community around,” said Laggos.
Before design began, SRJC students, faculty and staff, past and present, were surveyed on what Rosco means to them, and what they look for in a mascot. A strong, encouraging and proud leader was the consensus.
To manifest these traits into a character that will take SRJC into the future, $28,000 from the Office of Marketing and Communications budget was invested in new traditional and digital marketing assets, along with three brand-new, custom-made mascot suits; two “friendly” for general events, and one “fierce” for athletics, according to Laggos.
After she showed me Rosco’s revamped navy blue and cardinal red logo, both friendly and fierce versions, I unintentionally asked a question that made Laggos visibly uncomfortable: “Who wears the suit?”
She said she didn’t know and directed me to student services. I wasn’t ushered out of her office, but it was clear the
interview was over. I didn’t know what, but I could tell my ignorance had stumbled into something I wasn’t supposed to ask about. Who is Rosco?
I naively went over to the Bertolini Student Center and asked at the window if they knew who might be able to help me find out Rosco’s true identity. Again, my question was met with nervous energy while they went to ask up the chain.
Student engagement coordinator, Joshua Pinaula, came out to see who was asking. Thinking this might be my only shot, I fired off my questions. Who is Rosco? Did they audition? Is it an annual posting?
Pinaula replied, “Do you really want to know?” When I nodded, he just walked away with a smile that implied all would be revealed in the fullness of time. I was left perplexed about how I was going to complete this story without covering this important aspect of what and who Rosco is.
The following Tuesday, just before 3 p.m., I was in line for the day’s fourth latte at the Bear’s Den when I found myself staring at the antique carvings in the display case there. The three bear cubs, carved in Switzerland in 1871, were loaned to SRJC Associated Students in 1964 by alumni Win Jewett, class of 1927, and Jack Cooper, class of 1929.
I put it down to caffeine induced hallucinations when I thought I saw one little cub move, but then something
even stranger happened. I couldn’t tell if I was staring at the bear, or if I was the bear staring out at me.
I became dizzy and tried to rest my head on my hands, but it felt so much larger than usual. I staggered and nearly tripped because my feet were huge too. I rubbed my face and felt fur. I looked at my hands and saw paws.
Stumbling out into the quad, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the Bertolini Center window. I was Rosco. Pinaula appeared next to me out of nowhere, still sporting that knowing grin. I tried to ask him what was happening, but I had no voice. I tried to signal to passing students, but they just waved back, overjoyed to see Rosco.
The reflection showed me I had on an Oak Leaf t-shirt. Surely my colleagues at the paper would help me. It took what felt like an age to get to them, not only because I wasn’t used to my oversized feet, but because everyone I met wanted a photograph with Rosco, not knowing it was really me.
I felt like an imposter, but what else could I do? I posed, I waved and I high fived as I thought Rosco would. By the time I got to the Oak Leaf newsroom I had forgotten about trying to get help. Being the source of so much joy was quickly addicting.
After a full round of fist-bumps from everyone in the newsroom and a group photo, I was getting used to being Rosco. I called in on the forensics team
during their class just to see their faces light up and pose for yet more pictures.
Just as I decided I was going to visit the whole school, Pinaula said, “Okay, I think you’ve seen enough,” then, suddenly, I found myself back in front of that carving, slightly sweaty and late for class, fresh latte in hand, uncertain how much of what I had just seen was real.
“By keeping [Rosco’s] name and brown bear identity, we honor our past while turning a page toward a bright future. Rosco does more than entertain – he unites our community, instills a sense of belonging, and reminds us that, while we take education seriously, we’re also here to create an environment where we can grow, have fun and forge lasting memories,” said Sarah Pew, SRJC’s senior director of marketing, communications and public affairs. “Rosco is the true embodiment of the SRJC community.”
During my encounter that afternoon I got to experience viscerally what that embodiment means, and finally received an answer to my question. Who is Rosco? Rosco is us just as we are all him. This is my freshman year at SRJC and my first experience at an American school, complete with mascot and everything. I am as joyous to be part of this community, its long history and its culture as every one of those smiling faces I had the privilege of glimpsing for a moment from Rosco’s perspective.
Go Bear Cubs.
Story & Photos by Erina Corl
Six hours after landing in Japan, I stood at a train station waiting for my long-distance partner to arrive. It was hot, even at night and I was drenched in sweat, exhausted from the long trip. But in five minutes, two years of planning would pay off.
My partner was the perfect assistant planner to make those two weeks the best of my life and using our knowledge this article can help you prepare for your own Japan journey.
The question of where to go for your first trip to Japan can seem pretty daunting, but choosing where to stay is relatively simple even with a budget. Sites like Expedia and Booking.com allow for hassle-free ways to book hotels in advance as well as scout out potential locations where you wish to stay.
Capsule hotels offer a cheap option to sleep in with shared amenities. However, they’re not ideal for those looking for a little more privacy. Another budget
option is one-room business hotels which offer more privacy at a slightly higher cost.
For the Kyoto portion of our trip, my partner and I stayed in a hotel room inside the Kyoto train station. This was convenient for getting around and restaurants and stores were available with just an elevator ride.
For a more intimate setting in Tokyo, we chose to stay in an Airbnb.
We chose 14 days total with five days in Tokyo, five days in Kyoto, three days in Osaka and one extra day to make sure you can easily catch your flight without any complications. I feel this is a great itinerary for any first-time traveler in Japan.
This makes it not only a great way to view the biggest cities in the country but also works as a great hub for potential day trips.
A highlight of Tokyo is the Dome City, a baseball stadium and small amusement park hybrid. While I'm not much of a sports person it was so much fun to try to join in on the big game, surrounded by cheering fans, drinks and snacks enjoy.
Osaka has an exciting nightlife full of food and neon lights at Dotonbori, where, despite the number of people swarming the place being a tad overwhelming, we were able to indulge in street food. One that stood out was takoyaki, which is bits of octopus put into a fried ball of dough and sprinkled with sauce and other confections. It’s as delicious as it is hot enough to burn your mouth and makes a fun date food in the massive neon canal.
Japan has some of the best public transit in the entire world, even with the language barrier I had no trouble using it.
Buses and trains are numerous, cheap and frequent to the point where if you are staying in the major cities you will
likely never need to worry about getting to your destination.
The only potential difficulty is booking the Shinkansen — Japan’s bullet train — which is essential when going anywhere outside a city or moving between two. They are often around $100 for a ticket. My partner learned the hard way that Apple Wallet has some issues as a form of payment.
I was lucky enough to grab a physical transit card at the airport, which works like the Citi cards in Sonoma County allowing you to explore the country with the tap of a card at a kiosk.
As long as you have Google Maps and a decent sense of direction, transport will never be an issue.
The choices of classic Japanese foods are endless and perfect for a college student’s rather small budget. A convenience store can fill you up on the for cheap.
It takes but a small walk to find a restaurant in your local area where you can get a nice full meal for around 1,200 yen, or around $8, as long as it's not a dish partially known for its luxury.
However in my opinion even the “mall food” is delicious.
For example, one of the best foods I had in the country was the fried chicken you find in FamilyMart. It was as cheap as you expect convenience store chicken to be, but no exaggeration, it was the best I've ever eaten in my life. Every piece was perfectly crispy, juicy and well-seasoned.
I went during summer because it was the most convenient for both my partner and I to visit during the break, and we were even able to attend a summer festival late at night due to the season aligning. But unless you're fine with clothes drenched in sweat and having to restock on water or Pocari Sweat every half hour, summer might not be the best time.
The common consensus online is that the best times to visit Japan would be during spring and winter. In spring, you’re able to see the country’s iconic cherry blossoms blooming, and in winter you will experience some colder days out and more excuses to check out Japanese hot springs.
Any season is a decent time to visit, so it's best to choose something that suits your schedule best and what you want to see.
Japan is one of the most beautiful and interesting places I've ever visited. It is a stress-free time that I would strongly recommend to anyone interested in the country’s history or culture. Just make sure to have a good plan and quite a bit of money saved up, even with the low price of yen.
SRJC’s dance program includes a dance company performance course in the fall semester and a collaborative dance performance course with the Theatre department in the spring.
By Lucas Cadigan-Carranza
Simeon Van Izquierdo was fresh out of high school and checking out the Santa Rosa Junior College campus in the summer of 2012 when he heard music blasting from the second floor of Tauzer Gym. What he saw there hooked him and hasn’t let go since.
“I walked up the stairs and I peeked through the door and I saw this really cool dude just killing it,” he said.
Van Izquierdo had witnessed a cypher, a hip-hop tradition where a group of dancers form a circle and take turns going into the middle to express themselves through dance. He described the dancer’s movements as something completely different from modern hip-hop. Rather than classic footwork and movements, the dancing involved elements of other styles of street dance.
“This guy was coming up with the craziest stuff and I was like, ‘I want to do that too!’” he said.
However, Van Izquierdo comes from
a large family, six brothers and two sisters, and none of them took dance seriously. His brothers, specifically, were more into sports. “When they found out I was the eighth child in the family who wanted to go into dance they were like, ‘No, that’s so lame.’” he said.
Van Izquierdo was motivated to prove them wrong. After 12 years as part of SRJC’s dance classes he hasn’t swayed his siblings' opinions, but his life has
significantly improved because of the dance program.
“Dancing led me in many different directions,” he said. “I’ve had some very successful opportunities and experiences from the simplest things of wearing a costume and dancing on stage.”
One such direction was the opportunity to make a name for himself with cosplay. In 2018, Van Izquierdo built a social media presence making videos while cosplaying as Deadpool. The general focus of his videos is not solely on dancing, but that is what kicked off his fame and is one of the things he is known for.
Van Izquierdo recalled his first viral video from 2018 where he and another dancer dressed as Spider-Man danced together at a Cinco de Mayo festival in Roseland. Many of his videos have guest-starred Spider-Man, including one where they taught a dance choreography class in costume.
On Instagram he has over 134,000 followers, with his most viewed reel amassing around 3.1 million views. He is much bigger on TikTok, however, having received 5.8 million followers with his most viewed video having been watched over 15.5 million times.
In 2023, Van Izquierdo stopped posting on social media, but he has since begun making plans and adjustments to his daily life to start again. Not just because he misses it, but also to make people smile and laugh.
Becoming a cosplay actor and social media figure is not the only improvement to Van Izquierdo’s life that being a part of the dance program has led to.
Further achievements include graduating in 2020 with an associate degree in dance and marrying Carmen Izquierdo, who he met in the program, in 2022.
“It makes me very happy; so much has happened and so many doors have opened,” he said in reference to the program. “I can say wholeheartedly, it was the best decision I’ve made.”
Van Izquierdo’s health has benefited from the program as well. Before dancing he was uncoordinated, flimsy and skinny, but after the dance program, he’s much stronger and coordinated.
Beyond physical improvements, Van Izquierdo has also found emotional benefits, not only from dancing, but also from being a part of the program.
“Everyone’s going through something in life, and I think dance is an escape route for that,” he said, adding that dance has allowed him to forget the current moment, look inward and face the issues weighing him down. “You can just be your genuine self and find different routes of just getting yourself to be happy.”
The program was so tight-knit that his wife and best friends he met in the program plan to remain together when pursuing further education in Southern California. “It gave us a chance to just open up, which led us to forming such a strong family bond that made us want to live together and trust each other,” Van Izquierdo said.
He is just one of a great variety of students with all kinds of different backgrounds and stories who have gone through SRJC’s dance program. However, the attention the program receives pales in comparison to that of behemoths such as SRJC’s Athletics or Theatre Arts programs.
Despite garnering less attention, the program has come far. “I would consider our program quite the Cinderella story actually,” said dance coordinator and sole full-time faculty member Casandra Hillman.
The program began as no more than a series of classes that were a part of the Kinesiology department, which was then known as P.E.
SRJC hired Marjorie Shultz in 1970 to teach gymnastics and she eventually branched into dance classes. By 1981, dance classes finally found an identity outside of general P.E., complete with certificates offered by the college. However, it was not yet its own program.
Throughout Shultz’s tenure as full-time faculty, the Theatre department put on dance performances separate from the P.E. department every fall. Susan Matthies quickly became the director of these shows after her arrival in 1984.
In the mid ‘90s, a series of meetings between the chairs of both departments, the dean of P.E. and officials involved with the dance performances made arrangements for spring dance performances to be co-sponsored by both departments. These arrangements still exist today, with fall performances reintroduced and now solely run by the dance program.
After 27 years, Shultz retired in 1997. Debbe-Ann Medina, who came to the program as a part-time instructor in 1980, applied for a full-time faculty role.
With classes and overall leadership under Medina’s jurisdiction and the performances led by Matthies and Lara Branen, SRJC’s dance track fully
Pieces that are a part of the program’s dance performances are choreographed by both students and faculty
evolved into its own program. In Fall 2003, the college finally introduced its associate degree in dance. “Debbe-Ann would be the first to say that shaping the dance program was a team effort,” Branen said.
Medina remained the sole full-time faculty member until her retirement in 2016. Hillman joined the faculty and took the reins. Matthies retired around that time as well and Branen continues to teach Dance History, now online.
Hillman took the reins one year prior to the start of a series of complications for the program, starting with the 2017 Tubbs Fire followed by more wildfires.
The wildfires preceded the COVID-19 pandemic, which was then followed by the start of a renovation on Tauzer Gym, forcing the dance program to relocate to the portable buildings of Analy Village. However, these complications have not stopped the program from finding success.
In 2017, Hillman began taking students to the annual American College Dance Festival, a regional conference hosted by different colleges. In Spring 2018, the dancers performed a piece called “Wigs and Tarts” choreographed by Associate Dance Instructor Tanya Knippelmeir.
“It was a renaissance meets jazz meets comedy meets ballet piece,” Hillman said. The piece earned the program recognition from the American College Dance Association and a high honor at the conference: an invitation to perform the piece at the final Gala event.
In 2022, a different piece earned them national recognition and they performed at a national conference.
Matt Markovich, dean of Kinesiology, Athletics and Dance, believes the historical success of the dance program is thanks to the dance faculty themselves.
“These professionals have been here for many, many years before I was here, and they’ve been here ever since,” he said. “It’s really led to a strong dance program that has been consistent and provides students multiple avenues.”
Markovich went on to praise how flexible and accommodating the instructors
have been in their efforts to help the students succeed.
“A lot of us dance teachers over at SRJC have yet another job at another place, a studio, or another high school, or things like that,” said Lea Poisson, one such instructor hired in Fall 2006 who also teaches for the ArtQuest program at Santa Rosa High School.
Jolene Johnson, another associate dance instructor hired in 2023, also teaches at the Movement Lab dance studio and is the dance director at Analy High School in Sebastopol.
Much like Poisson, and a number of other faculty members, Johnson went through SRJC’s dance program as a student. The variety and diversity of which was, and still is, staggering.
“The cultural difference in our program is so vast and interesting. I think that’s what makes it so approachable,” Hillman said. “There’s gonna be someone that looks like you in one of my classes.”
Johnson has seen this variety as well but drew attention to the myriad skill and experience levels she sees in her classes. A sentiment that many instructors have echoed. Poisson said the age of her students range from high schoolers to those in their 70s.
“It’s all kinds of people who are there. People have danced for years and years, people who have never danced, people who are just like, finding their comfort zone,” said Rosalie Schroeder, a current
student who has been a part of the program since she started at SRJC in Fall 2018.
Due to the COVID-19 pandemic, Schroeder left the program for a year, but came back. The number of enrolled students, however, has not.
“We had like 1,500 students a semester. There’s probably about 400 right now,” Medina said. “It’s been very discouraging to watch, for myself who’s worked so hard, and knowing how it could be such a good program.”
Medina cited COVID-19 as a contributing factor to the decline, but noted that it was primarily due to space, or rather a lack thereof. The lack of opportunities was exacerbated by the dance program’s relocation to the smaller, more compact space in Analy Village.
However, students have started trickling back in.
“I think like anything else, it ebbs and flows,” said Tamara Grose, an Associate Dance Instructor who teaches ballet. “It can follow a trend. You see the incline of classes when there’s some trendy thing going on with hip-hop or any kind of dance competition.”
Johnson noted that the primary difference between her time as a student versus her time as an instructor was the influence of the leadership at the time.
“With a new full-time faculty you get new direction and new energy,” she
said. “So I think the energy has just shifted. We’re still finding our place.”
There is logic to her assessment. The aforementioned complications due to wildfires, pandemic and relocation have interfered with the finding stability.
Regardless, Johnson expressed interest in seeing where the program will go. And it seems that the program will only go higher, both figuratively and literally. Markovich described the plans for the dance program once construction on Tauzer Gym is complete.
“The whole upstairs is going to be the dance program,” he said. Markovich also explained the plans for the second
floor, describing an upgrade from one to two dance studios, each studio’s floor made from a different material to allow for a variety of dance styles, a place for students to hang out and faculty offices directly connected to the studios.
Hillman has a vision for the future in this new space as well, describing it as a catalyst for growth, innovation and increased visibility for the college’s dance program which will offer students more opportunities to develop their creativity and career path.
The new, expanded space will introduce state-of-the-art facilities dedicated toward research and innovation that will hopefully attract a broader range of students. Hillman hopes for the addition of more performance opportunities as well as a space for a larger number of guest artists alongside collaborations with professional dance companies and local studios.
However, according to Markovich, construction on Tauzer will not be complete until 2026, so these goals are still quite a ways off. Regardless, current and former students such as Van Izquierdo see how bright the present state of the program is while also acknowledging the shortcomings which Hillman’s vision will try to solve.
“I think the dance program in general is a very, very strong program. Unfortunately, it’s not really popular at the SRJC in terms of the peers really knowing much about it,” Van Izquierdo said.
The number of students in SRJC’s dance program is growing at a steady pace. One reason being Dance Coordinator Casanda Hillman’s ongoing efforts to drive engagement and add new classes, particularly for beginners.
Jtioning society and, for decades, the public at-large has trusted reporters to disseminate unbiased information. However, within the last decade, media integrity and journalists’ reputations have slowly eroded, and the field of journalism has been compromised.
Journalists do more than just report the news. They serve as the only real check on government practices as independent watch dogs, known as the fourth estate.
As a student journalist, my instructors instilled in me strong ethical values to uphold. I learned to seek the truth and to report it objectively. On the occasions where I slip, my fellow editors correct me and hold me accountable, ensuring the information I disseminate is accurate and fact-based.
The ethics I’ve learned have provided structure for my personal life as well, instilling in me the moral imperative to be truthful, direct and fair. This in turn bolsters my confidence and centers me as a human being.
For a decade now there have been widespread attacks on the media along with a meteoric rise of misinformation.
The maligning of the press has led to the assaults on journalists, media and overall news sources.
my ethics, and I'm proud to call myself a journalist.
Donald Trump, the 47th president of The United States, makes his hatred for the media abundantly clear and perpetuates a trend of distrusting it. “Fake News” became a rallying cry during his first administration, as he targeted media outlets and journalists he didn’t like. He has labeled journalists enemies of the people, and even threatened to jail those who oppose him.
At the end of his 2024 presidential campaign, Trump said, “To get me, somebody would have to shoot through the fake news, and I don’t mind that so much,” at his rally in Lititz, Pennsylvania. His audience applauded the sentiment. Since he was still able to win the election while spewing this type of violent rhetoric there is good reason to believe he will become more emboldened as president.
Trump's verbal attacks have put journalists across the nation in very real physical danger.
According to a survey conducted by the International Women’s Media Foundation (IWMF), 36% of journalists have been threatened or assaulted while working as a journalist. “A decade ago,
that these incidents are taking place in the United States,” the IWMF stated in the survey.
Not only has this rhetoric created a culture that is hostile to American journalists, it invalidates the nobility of journalists abroad. Reporters have ventured into Gaza to cover the Palestinian genocide and the ongoing war between Hamas and Israel. The Russian government has imprisoned them for calling crimes committed by President Vladimir Putin. The Chinese Communist Party has successfully suppressed journalists in Hong Kong and Taiwan to stop the spread of vital information to its citizens.
“Legal persecution, imprisonment, physical violence and even killings have sadly become familiar threats for journalists across the world,” said The Committee to Protect Journalists, an independent, nonprofit organization that promotes press freedom worldwide.
The demise of journalism is directly tied to the internet. In the past decade an epidemic of misinformation has left journalists vulnerable and in some cases under attack.
Media literacy, or one’s ability to access the validity of information they receive
from the media, has slowly eroded.
Social media platforms have exploded in recent years. With few safeguards limiting the spread of false information, they can post anything they want.
Recently the Pew Research Center reported that 20% of Americans get their news from social media influencers. These influencers never took journalism classes or worked in a newsroom. So, they never learned to value the same code of ethics as real journalists. They spread information without vetting its validity or weighing its consequences and the harm it could cause.
This creates a breeding ground of untrue, biased or fabricated “news” stories. People are consuming misinformation from faux news sources at ever-increasing rates.
Publishing information from biased sources takes attention away from legitimate media.
The internet brought an influx of political commentators. Political commentary is democratic by nature and when ethically practiced it promotes freedom of thought and ideas.
But political commentators are motivated by profit, not by truth.
There has been an alarming uptick in extremist rhetoric from commentators across all political sectors. Commentators often spew volatile talking points to chase profits, which can weaponize their more influential viewers who sew further chaos in a destructive cycle.
A perfect example is Alex Jones, the now infamous clown who made millions with his former show “InfoWars,” where he spread blatant and patently false propaganda to hundreds of thousands of people.
For years, Jones propagated conspiracy theories about the validity of the Sandy Hook school shooting from 2012, claiming it was a false flag operation where no children were harmed. He said the Sandy Hook victims were actors and made up their trauma at witnessing the event. In reality, Jones’ lies ruined their lives for years after, leading to death
threats and causing some of the families to move multiple times for their safety.
Not until 2022 did the Sandy Hook victims and families find justice, when they took Jones to court and won their defamation case against him. He now owes them a $1.5 billion settlement.
This is just one case where false information, spread by an untrustworthy source, negatively impacted U.S. society.
It also demonstrates the devastating effect media illiteracy can have. Jones never offered any credible sources to back his claims and no legitimate news sources confirmed his story, yet his audience readily accepted it. This is how the journalism profession has been compromised.
I often find the negative rhetoric
My fellow journalists and I are constantly working to improve our field in hope that the information we disseminate best serves our community and nation at large.
We hold each other accountable and we stick to our improving standards.
I'm a journalist but I'm also a human. I vow to always try to minimize harm while writing and publishing my work. I see myself as a vital part of my community, whether that be my hometown or country, and ask those members within it for similar respect.
Kerouac and his debauched companions hitchhiked and drove to Colorado, Twain explored the heart of America as a pilot on a Mississippi riverboat, and we — well, we at Santa Rosa Junior College have the bus and the SMART train. This doesn’t scream freedom and rebellion against the militaristic mores of a postwar culture, but they are ours.
SRJC students ride free on local Sonoma County buses with a school photo ID. That won't take them far enough for an epic journey, not even far enough to get to San Francisco, but it gave me a way to frame a quest I make each year.
In 1962, 23-year-old Kenichi Horie sailed his 19-foot sailboat Mermaid from Japan to San Francisco. He sailed without
Story & Photos by Henry Fliflet
a passport, crew or more than a few words of English; after making landfall he was briefly arrested, then given a 30-day visa and the keys to the city.
His ethos as an everyman Odysseus has inspired me as a person and a sailor since I first read his book, “Kodoku: Sailing Alone Across the Pacific,” in ninth grade. Mermaid is kept in the San Francisco Maritime Museum, and I try to make a pilgrimage to go visit her at least once a year.
This year, to visit Mermaid, I planned to ride the train and the bus for a day, from Sebastopol to San Francisco and back. I wanted to see how workable our much-maligned American public transportation system was, but also to see what kind of adventure I could fit into an empty Friday afternoon.
I was self-conscious of the thesis. Normal people ride public transit everyday all across this country, and I was hesitant to convey that normal
experience as exotic. Strangeness wasn’t the point; my goal was simply to see if, by doing something a little bit different, I could get a new perspective on a trip I’d only ever made before in my 2007 Toyota RAV4.
It felt right, felt exciting, to not have the option to escape by car as I stood and stamped my feet in the cold at the bus stop. I’d trapped myself here, at the corner of Morris and Hwy 12, and being trapped like that, felt a little more free. The region was familiar, but without the autonomy of a car I was more reliant on my wits, a little less secure. That feeling gave my morning a sense of meaning.
On the ride from Sebastopol to Santa Rosa, I sat next to a man wrapped in a brown duvet and big straw hat who went by “Jeff.”
Jeff pretended to smite the cars in front of us with an imaginary hammer of immense proportions. He talked like Popeye, his words all full of hard consonants and mumbles. “Smash! I won't let you get ahead of us, nuh-huh,” he said, his arm swinging wildly at the semitruck in front of us.
Jeff told me he was from Novato and that he had come up here to see a friend. I think he was on his way home, but I didn’t understand most of what he was trying to say.
Held up in traffic, we looked out over the congested Hwy 101. He turned to me and pointed a dirty finger at the jam of commuters inching into Santa Rosa.
“Look at that panoramic view, it’s beautiful!” he said.
I agree. It was, in a way, a beauty.
I’m distrustful of Google Maps’ suggestions for public transportation. The App lacks a certain human logic. It doesn’t understand that I’d rather walk than wait and that I’d rather wait than pay $50 to ride an airport shuttle. To emphasize my humanity, I resolved to use it as little as possible.
I knew that the SMART train was in Santa Rosa and that it would take me south. That was enough to start.
I left the bus in front of the Santa Rosa city annex and walked to the SMART station, put $15 on my blue Clipper Card, and went to talk to the docents at the Santa Rosa Train Station visitor’s center while I waited for my next ride.
Docent Pam Higgens greeted me when I wandered in. Sitting behind the information desk amid maps and brochures along refurbished rustic wood walls, she was quick to wax philosophical about the role she served in helping the less fortunate travel.
“Here’s the problem: buses should stay low-tech,” Higgins said. “What about people who just have a flip-phone, or no phone at all? Those are the people who need the bus most of all.”
Higgins’ job, as she saw it, was to be an advisor for those people, be they travel on a city bus, Amtrak or the train.
Her sense of purpose was heartwarming. On leaving, Higgins’s coworker Deniese pulled me aside. “Look, if you ever need travel advice, Pam is your girl,” she said conspiratorially.
Compared to the Sonoma County Transit bus, the SMART train fosters an atmosphere of greater fortune, either because the business caters to Bay
Area commuters with grandkids and salaried jobs, or because the institution of permanent rails and panoramic vistas of swampy cow pastures attracts the confidence of those less willing to forsake four wheels.
Instead of stolen mountain bikes strapped to the prow of a city bus, elegant carbon fiber mounts hang by their front wheels inside the air-conditioned train, and the interior is sterile and plastic instead of stinking of piss in purple carpet seats.
I relaxed and took in the atmosphere. Across from my seat, the conductor asked two older women in straw hats and purple quilted vests to show him their IDs. SMART started a pilot program in August, letting youth and seniors ride for free.
“I gotta make sure,” the conductor said to the two women as one of them fumbled for her driver’s license. “You could just be really good makeup artists.”
“Nah, that’s just how old I’ve made her look with all of my nonsense,” one of them said about her companion. They all laughed.
For me, the ride cost $6.
I got off in San Rafael. I could have kept pushing south to Larkspur, but I wanted to stay on the more egalitarian highways instead of tearing across the Bay on a ferry.
As I stood on the platform, a panhandler with bright blue eyes came up to me. “Give me some money. I need to buy a little food, brother,” he said. There was something monk-like, almost saintly about the way his unkempt hair reached his shoulders while the top of his head was bald and sunburnt.
“Sure,” I said, and reached into my pocket. “I’ve got a couple bucks, but only in quarters.” I’d taken my collection of spare change to pay the bus fare, and I was hoping I could hear his story.
“Forget about it man, forget about it! I don’t need to take shit from you.” Instead of trying to pull the fistfull of coins out of my jeans pocket, I looked at him puzzled.
“So, where are you traveling to?” I said. He just shook his head at my bourgeoisie barbs and stormed off.
The Golden Gate Transit bus 101 took me across the Golden Gate Bridge and into San Francisco's Marina District for $8.50. This left me with 50 cents on my Clipper Card and an unknown sum of quarters jangling in my pocket as I walked onwards.
I got off the bus a short distance away from the Exploratorium, and stood blinking in the sun and wondering how I would pay for the last bus, the last link in my pilgrimage.
San Francisco is and has always been “The City” to me, but standing on the sidewalk without a car, a plan or an obvious way to pay for my next ride, I felt exposed to a ridiculous degree.
Saint Augustine said, “It is solved by walking.” Solvitur ambulando in Latin. I elected to trek the last mile to the Maritime Museum instead of figuring out how to reload my Clipper Card.
Those who wish to ride would be wise to travel in hiking boots.
An older man in a blue tracksuit
washed a silver Porsche with a black pistol-grip hose nozzle outside his peach-colored apartment, and I stepped into the street to avoid the suds.
After making my final approach to the Mermaid herself, I learned from the Maritime Museum docent that Kenchie Horie’s fame has grown overseas. She sees more Japanese tourists coming to see the Mermaid than Americans.
“They’re reserved, you know, very polite,” she said. “And then they see Mermaid and just freak out.”
I stood there, looking up at the modest black plywood boat for a moment.
“My entire youth was spent in conversation with her,” Horie had written on a commemorative tray, presented to the museum when he donated the boat. I keep coming back to look at the Mermaid, I think, because of that commitment and connection to an idea, an adventure, a quest.
I had my picture taken, thanked the docent, and then turned to catch the next series of buses home. I walked to a small hardware store to put another $15 on my card and rode a series of buses back toward Sebastopol.
The bus was almost quiet, lumbering through the afternoon traffic jams. In front of me, two gray suits bragged about the millions of somebody else’s dollars their bosses managed.
Behind me, a man rolled on the floor at the back of the bus, muttering nonsense to himself.
Before we pulled into Cotati, this man dragged himself over to me and asked if
he could make a call on my phone. His face was lean, his hair cut short, and he wore a faded shirt from some mechanic’s shop in Oakland. His arms, clutching at my seat, were red with a rash that he kept scratching. “My phone got stolen, buddy. I can’t believe they stole it, and then they broke it,” he said.
At his suggestion, I dialed the number and held the phone out to him. It was his mom. She asked why he was late. He snapped back that he would be home soon. She sighed. He said goodbye.
I never asked his name, but as we rode through the suburbs of Cotati, he pointed out his street to me. “I wish there was a bus stop here,” he said. It was a terrifyingly normal neighborhood; normal in the same way his mom had sounded through the speakerphone.
For the first time, the trip felt tied to forces greater than I had expected.
I rode the bus to the Maritime Museum in San Francisco to pay homage to a great sailor. Through that pilgrimage, I was looking to see if I could fit into an ordinary Friday some part of that ethos those adventurers and writers I admire found at sea or in the cars of strangers.
I would still ride with Dean Moriarty. I still plan to sail like Kenichi Horie. But that feeling of loneliness and exposure and the texture of life itself was out there, on the bus.
I would gladly ride it again.
By Adair Alvarez Rodriguez
I love cruising down windy roads in my 1995 Mazda Miata. Mastering each turn until the movements my vehicle makes become my own.
Opening the throttle a subtle roar fills the cabin, shifting gears becomes second nature and adrenaline fuels the ecstasy of snapping around bends.
The thrill providing an unmatched rush. The straightaways offer moments of calm, with the convertible top exposing me to the elements.
At night, shifting to second gear under the glistening sky eases my mind.
After three years of driving, I can confidently say the Miata is one of the greatest cars ever made. Initially, I saw it as an affordable entry into sports cars, but ownership reshaped my view of what makes a great vehicle.
Finding my 1995 Miata was a journey, culminating in a $3,900 gem in Union City. Fully stock and neglected by its previous owner, it needed extensive maintenance but became a labor of love.
Once road-ready, I drove it everywhere, logging thousands of miles in just a few months. The Miata embodies Mazada’s “jinba ittai” philosophy–melding driver and car into one, much like the bond between a horse and rider. This unity
defines the feeling of tearing down my favorite words.
Though the Miata is Japanese-made, its design has American roots. After 30 years of development, it debuted in 1989 as a lightweight, thrilling roadster. With less than 150 horsepower, the Miata’s low-power engine lets drivers push it to its limits turning every on-ramp into an adventure.
The five-speed transmission features a light clutch and smooth downshifts, further improved with Ford Motorcraft synthetic fluid for seamless gear changes. Weighting under 2,200 pounds–much lighter than rivals like the Toyota GR86–the Miata offers better acceleration, stopping power, and handling. Its nimble build turns mundane drives into scenes straight out of The Fast and the Furious.
Rear-wheel drive enhances weight distribution and sharpens cornering, while the lack of traction control allows for advanced techniques like clutch-kick-
ing, sending power to the rear wheels for controlled slides.
After two years of ownership, my Miata has proven incredibly reliable, rivaling even a Volvo. Designed for easy maintenance, its accessible parts make repairs a breeze–transforming an average garage mechanic into a pit-stop pro. The Miata transcends car ownership, thanks to its vibrant community. A signature of Miata culture is exchanging joyful winks with pop-up headlights when passing another driver.
Every Miata enthusiast I’ve met comes from a different background, yet we’re all connected by this little car. Once, an older man shared with me how restoring a Miata with his daughter brought them closer, creating cherished memories he still treasures.
Before owning one, I thought the joy of car culture was about driving a fun vehicle. But after driving into the Miata world, I’ve realized it’s more, it’s therapy. Lonely nights are cured by a cruise down empty roads, where the open highway clears the mind and invites endless possibilities.
This car’s unique blend of community, connection and driving synergy has earned it a permanent spot in my life.
The term “ghosting” arose from the idea that when one person ghosts another, they effectively become invisible, or a “ghost,” to them. Another eerie similarity shared with the name, however, is that a spirit comes into existence from unresolved emotions, usually in the form of trauma the act causes them. Nomenclature aside, ghosting is abusive behavior that shouldn’t be tolerated if an ethical society is to advance.
Ghosting is when one abruptly ceases communication with someone without explanation. While often associated with dating and one-night-stands, it occurs among friends and colleagues too. The act is nothing new, but, in a time when smartphones are in most American’s pockets, it persists. Enough to have stolen a moniker more heavily used today than for the spirits it originally referred to, and even overshadowing them as a cause of dread.
Most have witnessed it firsthand. The Thriving Center of Psychology, an online mental health platform aimed at connecting therapists to those in need across the nation, conducted a survey of over 1,000 Gen Zers and Millennials in 2023, and found that 8 out of 10 people said they had been ghosted. So, when communication couldn’t be simpler, barring the invention of telepathy, why is it still so common?
Aside from the valid reasons like needing to avoid an abusive person or stalker, the obvious answer is that ghosting is easy to do. Just don’t contact the person again. But how laborious are a few texts or a five-minute phone
By Michael Combs
call really? It’s not the time or physical effort that people avoid; it’s the emotional burden.
However, choosing convenience over providing the “ghostee” with closure usually has lasting negative impacts. Psychology Today, an online mental health resource and magazine with articles written by mental health professionals, calls ghosting a “powerful and emotionally abusive behavior” that can lead to self-doubt, mistrust in others and lower self-esteem. Even though ghosting can happen at any time, the impact is greatest when the ghostee has no reason to expect it.
It’s more mature to admit that you just wanted to get laid than telling someone you’re not looking for a relationship after a night of sweet talking and false promises
Santa Rosa Junior College students aren’t exempt from this. When Christian Trechter, 19, was ghosted by one of his best friends of seven years during his senior year in high school he couldn’t help but take it personally.
“At first it was weird. I was just scratching my head, retracing my steps, trying to think what did I do to deserve this?
Like, did I respond to something in a weird way?” Trechter said.
To make matters worse, Trechter and his former best friend both enrolled at SRJC after graduating, and when they bumped into each other, Trechter’s friend didn’t acknowledge his own behavior.
“I was really angry, because I was just sitting there, waiting for an apology, and he completely deflected and didn’t admit to anything,” Trechter said.
During their conversation Trechter’s friend was able to share intimate information with him, yet still couldn’t own up to his ghosting. He even asked Trechter to get lunch with him. Eventually, after Trechter pressed him, his friend gave an insufficient excuse — too little, too late.
“I told him, ‘Your immaturity has really shown, and I’m not looking for a friendship with you anymore,’” he said.
Trechter thinks he might have been more forgiving if his friend had reached out to him after a month or two of ghosting him, but a year proved to be too long.
In a time when more cases of parental neglect are coming to light, ghosting can trigger abandonment trauma in some people as well.
Yet that likely comes as no surprise. Tell a friend that you’ve been ghosted and it's almost guaranteed their response will be some expletive hurled in the
ghosters direction. We all know that it's toxic behavior.
Like most forms of abuse, those who have been ghosted tend to perpetuate it. The Thriving Center of Psychology Survey said nearly 60% of those who have been ghosted have gone on to ghost another person. Hence, it's become normalized, despite the widespread awareness of its toxicity.
SRJC student Isis Hernandez, 18, considers ghosting an unfortunate experience of growing up.
“I guess it’s super normal. It happened to me and all my friends,” she said.
However, Hernandez said just because it’s common doesn't make it easier to handle. When a close friend ghosted her in high school she was initially concerned about his well-being. After realizing she’d simply been ghosted, her initial sadness eventually turned to lingering resentment.
“I was pissed off, and if I would see him or hear about him I’d just get pissed off again,” Hernandez said.
She has since moved on, but said that hasn't helped make the memory any less unpleasant.
Littering was also a normalized trend until people realized they were saturating their communities with garbage, and ghosting is no different, just the physical garbage is replaced with emotional baggage.
Some may defend ghosting, saying it’s not their fault if they don’t share the same feelings as the ghostee. Treating others with respect is never a requirement, just a responsibility that comes with maturity, just like dating and having relationships. Most people date with hopes of being attracted to a particular person, but when attractions don’t coincide, an imbalance of power arises, and maturely using that power leads to the betterment of all those involved, ghosters included.
Another Psychology Today article said, in the long run, ghosters don’t even free themselves of an emotional burden, with 50% being wracked with guilt or remorse after they ghost. Since ghosting
burns bridges, they, in turn, lose the chance to gain closure.
In future relationships, ghosting can foster emotional detachment or numbness and lead ghosters to future isolation, according to Simply Psychology.
To show empathy one must provide a real explanation. Not ghosting someone isn’t simply saying you don’t want to talk to them anymore. Closure outweighs the pain of hearing a harsh truth. This is true even for one-nightstands. It’s more mature to admit that you just wanted to get laid rather than telling someone you’re not looking for a relationship after a night of sweet talking and false promises.
Dating has often been compared to fishing, and most experienced fishers respect all the fish they catch, even the ones they don’t keep. They don’t just cut the line and throw the fish back with the hook still attached, they carefully remove it with as minimal damage as possible before gently returning it to the water. This allows the fish to carry
out the rest of its life, pain-free, and maintains a healthy ecosystem that ultimately benefits all future fishers.
In 2024, it's not a stretch to say the world is falling apart. Ending ghosting will not solve all our problems, but humans need to get their act together, and treating each other as people is a part of that.
So the next time you find you’re not interested in someone romantically, or have a friend who is getting on your nerves, show that person some courtesy and have a conversation with them, or at least text them the reason you feel you need to part ways with them.
The Mojave stretches before me, shimmering under a sky too blue to feel real. The cool air clings to my skin, the wind cutting deep into my bones sending a chill up my spine.
This isn’t the blazing desert I imagined; this is something colder, harsher, a reminder that desperation doesn’t always burn—sometimes, it freezes.
I’m here, chasing a promise older than California, and here in the howling wind I can hear it … the seductive whisper of gold.
Before I can wrap up my final semester at Santa Rosa Junior College, I have to address my bill. To get the postmeal mint that is my Journalism A.A., I need to finally pay the school for the classes I’ve taken.
College debt? Soul-crushing. Campus job postings? Sketchier than a windowless van advertising “Free Candy.” But gold? Gold feels honest. Or at least it did.
With this looming threat, I had an entrepreneurial epiphany.
Wine moms have multi-level market-
By Sal Sandoval-Garduno
ing schemes. The financially illiterate have crypto scams. What do struggling college students have? Internships and opportunities for “great exposure.”
We live in an era where you can buy your way into the Oval Office with enough money. Elbow grease and gumption are great, and motivation and moxie are marvelous, but all that truly matters to society is what color your American Express card is.
Not many college students are born to billionaire fathers, but luckily for us Californians, we’ve inherited the greatest get-rich-quick scheme known to man: the Gold Rush.
Sure, bills might have brought me out here, but this wasn’t just about money. Gold represents something more— status. Wars have been fought over it, empires toppled and lives sacrificed in pursuit of it.
Today, we drape ourselves in gold like peacocks in heat, flashing necklaces, rings and watches that scream, “Look at me, I’m worth more than your rent.” Gold is the ultimate shiny, overpriced middle finger to everyone around us.
It brings its own delusions of grandeur. Take Samuel Brannan, for example. Considered the first to have publicized the Gold Rush, he became California’s first millionaire, not from mining gold, but by selling supplies to miners. Brannan’s wealth made him the richest man in the state for a time, even allowing him to stage a failed coup against a Hawaiian king.
This level of unhinged ambition is exactly what I aspired to achieve in my mission for gold.
I refused to brave the badlands alone so I called in reinforcements: Oak Leaf reporter Elliott Kennedy, a walking tank of a man whose broad shoulders could shield me from whatever the desert had in store. Together, we were a duo built for adventure—one all brawn, the other with the physique of a spider-monkey.
We set off in Elliott’s Toyota Rav4 to the Mojave in search of fortune.
My journey didn’t begin in the desolate expanse. It began in the Bay Area in a sea of brake lights stretching endlessly ahead. The plan to get rich quick was
first put on the back burner as my only desire in traffic was to escape the city.
San Francisco isn’t just a city—it’s Ayn Rand’s wet dream. The housing prices rise like an unrelenting tidal wave, slowly crushing anyone with stock options or a trust fund, forcing those who can’t afford it to scatter like mice.
As I inched forward, San Francisco seemed to taunt me: If I failed to find my fortune I’d barely be able to afford a studio with six roommates in a place like this. Being stuck in traffic seemed like a metaphor for places like San Francisco, a reminder that if you aren’t rolling in cash, you aren’t rolling at all.
After a partial eternity, the traffic broke and the city faded from my mind like a nightmare. All that lay before me was a seven-hour drive on California's most boring paved road, Interstate 5.
If patience is a virtue, those who commit to the drive south are venerable saints.
My destination was Calico, a ghost town, squatting just outside of Barstow in the southern Mojave Desert, Calico. Once a booming silver-mining town in the 1880s, Calico now survives as a gaudy tourist attraction clinging to the memory of its glory days.
While the town’s heyday was built on silver, notably not gold, I figured the principles to learn were roughly the same: dig deep, have luck and rely on
underpaid minorities to do the majority of the work. In my case, I could have convinced more college students to join with the promise of this being a resume builder.
By the mid-1880s Calico was the place to be, if you were interested in silver mining, with 500 mines and a population of 1,200 the town was the largest silver producer in the state.
But their choice of going after the inferior metal proved to be the town’s downfall. While gold prices rose, the value of silver plummeted resulting in the town's failure.
The town’s rise and fall mirrored my own as I approached Southern California. What if the meager mound of shiny silver I could strive to muster couldn’t ding a dent in my debt? I could at least
use that silver to make myself a second-place trophy in the race to nowhere.
I found encouragement upon learning that after the town became defunct, it rose again, like a phoenix with a price tag. Walter Knott, of Knott’s Berry Farm fame, used his wealth to restore the abandoned town. Another shining example of how wealth can erase consequences.
Knott didn’t just have enough cash to buy the town — he engaged in the ultimate rich guy move and ditched it, handing over the restored town to San Bernardino County. This is the kind of “fuck you” money I sought.
I left Barstow, and before I could even spot the first Joshua tree, those strange, spiky, almost alien-looking things, the sun had already called it quits for the day. On the last stretch of the journey to Calico, I found myself surrounded by Joshua trees. With their gnarly limbs and awkward stance they stuck out like sore thumbs amidst the smooth stillness of the desert, like the Mojave’s eccentric, punk-rock guardians. I couldn’t tell if they approved of me or not.
By the time I arrived at Calico, the warmth of the sun had abandoned me, and the gates were locked, leaving me with nothing but the cold and a whole lot of desert silence until morning.
I found refuge at Owl Canyon Campground, a dusty Bureau of Land Management site. The site’s bathrooms and
singular water spigot were like a still frame among the freezing night. The gears in my head were succumbing to the cold as I couldn’t settle on where to set up camp.
Each campsite seemed more unwelcoming than the last until I reached lucky No. 4, my Zion. Without a second to waste, I insulted every Eagle Scout by throwing sticks in the fire pit and dowsing them in lighter fluid. The fire started in an instant. Any prospector would have done the same.
Looking across the moonlit landscape, the vastness hit me like a punch in the gut. The fortune could be anywhere and there was even a possibility that it could be nowhere. But that was tomorrow’s existential crisis. Tonight my only concern was to get these canned beans cooked.
As the beans simmered in the lighter-fluid fire, two shiny, opportunistic eyes watched me from just beyond the fire’s edge.
A bold field mouse sprung into a mad dash to get just close enough to further examine the source of the aromas that had brought it to my campsite. When I took note, the mouse would bolt with adrenaline-fueled speed to avoid my gaze and return to the security of the darkness.
I’ve read my fair share of children's books, and I know how these situations work. The creature’s beady little eyes were fixated on my food, but there was a price to join this feast. As the mouse crept toward me barely illuminated by the fire, as still as I could be, I presented it with an offer.
The bargain was simple: For a bite of beans, it would lead me to gold. The mouse, most likely a communist, refused to take part in the trade.
It was foolish of me to think that I was special, like some chosen one destined for a direct handshake with fortune. I briefly entertained the idea that there was some deeper meaning to this encounter, a grand lesson to be learned. No, this was just a distraction from my grand plan.
I ate and as the fire gave way, the night
crept in — forcing me to retreat to the car for warmth. I drifted off, wrapped in blankets and slightly covered in dirt, dreaming of deep veins of gold and silver.
I was woken by the bright blue morning sky with the golden sun hanging slightly over the horizon. I finally saw the Mojave in daylight and it was daunting. Stretching as far as the eye could see my vision only being broken by slight hills or the occasional boulder. Mountains barely visible functioned as a pseudo backdrop to the seas of shrubs and Joshua trees.
I found myself sinking into the beauty of the repeating landscape. Was I falling for the charm of absolutely nothing? The stillness, like a painting, cleared my mind. Why was I here? I felt compelled to sit down and take it all in for a second.
No, I snapped out of the desert’s spell — greed gave me the clarity I needed to break away from the desert’s beauty. After all, I’d come here to admire precious metal, not the scenery.
As I shook off the mesmerizing trance of the Mojave and entered Calico, the ghost town initially seemed ripped from the late 1800s. Once you walk through the entrance, the entire facade quickly gives away. Extension cords running from building to building ruined the facade.
The dusty roads, the old-timey buildings, and the employees speaking in Southern drawls gave a taste of something historic. But as you take it all in you quickly realize this is a replica. A carefully curated copy created to pull you in, but falling short of the real thing.
The stores, which make up the majority of the buildings, mainly sell throw-away chachkies relating to the Wild West or Route 66. Stores like the Leatherworks shop and General Stores contain a fair share of quality items, but still, all of this is meant to scratch the consumerist itch of tourists.
The history of the mining town was nearly stripped away. At every turn, there were only opportunities to spend wealth, not accumulate it. The
price tags affixed to everything made me realize how much I had spent so far on this entire journey.
Gas, food and time were all costs I had gladly paid in search of wealth, but now in Calico, it felt like I was just spending money, not making any. The pursuit of gold was starting to feel like a cycle of empty transactions. I didn’t need overpriced water and Route 66 shot glasses, I was in search of knowledge from original prospectors.
I was directed to the original house of former resident Lucy Lane. The house is adorned with antiques meant to replicate what it would have looked like. Lucy Lane lived in Calico during its heyday, but even while walking through her original house she seemed to be an afterthought compared to the prospect of riches.
Lucy was just an average person, who happened to live in Calico before it was abandoned. Now her entire home and her memory had been reduced to a photo opportunity for tourists to upload 1800s oddities to their Instagram.
Would I too end up an afterthought. Without the wealth to buy a town, how will I be remembered when the history books are written?
The museums and stores didn’t give me the information I needed to ditch the park and venture into the shrublands with the confidence that I needed. So I opted for the tour of the Maggie Mine, which I still had to pay for.
Filled with a team of mannequin miners long dead, the mine tour only made me realize that my one-man operation was drastically understaffed. My morale plummeted. But the static-saturated pre-recorded tour message renewed my hope with the story of a child who discovered a chunk of silver on the mountain.
This child had come across a silver deposit just above the mine. His discovery had kick-started the Maggie Mine and led to a bunch of men risking their lives in the shafts. If a child could stumble upon a silver deposit, then what was stopping anyone else? With a bit of luck and the right kind of recklessness, riches could be hiding just beneath the surface, waiting to be claimed.
With newfound inspiration, we were ready to brave the Mojave. Before leaving, fate brought me my greatest teacher on top of a hill overlooking the town.
Arturo Chaves, a Mexican man holding a Native American walking stick, wearing an African dashiki, and playing a Mayan ocarina, stood at the hill peak, the wind carrying his melody across the park.
Arturo was a self-proclaimed hippie. He lived to adventure the globe, having visited over 50 countries, he was more than well-traveled.
“Everywhere I go I bring my ocarina, a flute and I’m normally dressed like this,” Arturo said. “I go wherever feels right and [when] I play people stop,
taking photos or videos, thinking I’m some kind of weirdo, but I’m just trying to enjoy myself.”
Arturo has a normal job back home two hours south of Barstow, but he has spent his whole life adventuring. Back when he lived in Mexico, Arturo backpacked across the country with a friend named Juan. Sometimes with no money to their name the natural beauty they witnessed carried them forward.
Before me stood someone who lived in stark contrast to the purpose of my journey, and I envied him. I couldn’t truly understand his effortless indifference. He didn’t care if people laughed at him or how he dressed—and somehow, that made him untouchable.
He had broken from money’s grasp and no longer chases it.
He traveled for the sake of traveling and played the ocarina not for others but for nature itself. Where I saw potential for gold he looked out across the rolling dunes and saw something foreign to me, something I wished I could behold, but I wasn’t ready yet.
Arturo serenaded me with his ocarina, and before I departed he explained that he was traveling with his son’s fatherin-law, a very plain-looking white man. Catching sight of his traveling partner, Arturo raised his walking stick into the sky and requested that the “wind spirits” guide both of our journeys.
Through his laughter, Arturo said,
“I bet [my son’s father-in-law] hated that, people are going to think that I’m crazy.”
I departed my spiritual teacher and made for the shrublands of the Mojave to finally begin looking for gold.
By midday I found myself bracing the desert’s scrubby landscape. Only the occasional boulder broke the endless plain, jutting out from the sea of shrubs.
Every hole I dug produced only dirt, and every rock I examined produced no signs of precious metal. I turned to searching caves in hopes that some prospector’s sloth led to them leaving me a nugget. Nothing, but the desert’s still siren song, tempting me to forget my mission and lose myself in its quiet beauty.
I continued on. Every stop brought me further into the desert and further into despair. I was losing daylight and patience as I covered more and more land.
The road faded from view and the thought of actually finding anything of value began to drift away as well.
As the sun set the wind howled in the valley I found myself in. My enthusiasm wilted like much of the desert vegetation. I hadn’t found gold, silver or even a can to take to the recycling plant.
I watched the sunset from on top of a nearby hill in reflective silence.
Was all of this for naught? Was I about to join the long list of losers who’d failed to find anything?
The wind howled around me. I thought back to my spiritual guide, Arturo, and what sage advice he would have provided me at that moment. I stopped for a second just as he does when he plays his ocarina and just stood there.
For the first time in what felt like forever, I stopped and could feel the desert spell begin to wash over me yet again, but this time I thought of Arturo. I thought of how he didn’t fight the call of nature but followed it.
I stayed there accepting the desert’s beauty for the first time and listened. Not to the sound of Arturo’s ocarina,
but to the desert’s gentle song. The silence only being broken but the gentle rustle of the shrubs as the wind gracefully passed. My mind was cleared of greed.
I stopped thinking about the bill waiting for me back at SRJC. I stopped obsessing over the numbers in my bank account, or lack thereof, and the crushing pressure to figure it all out. At that moment none of it mattered.
That doesn’t mean money doesn’t matter—it does. It always does, especially for those of us clawing our way through education, trying to build something resembling a future. And I know there are people out there in far worse situations, trapped under the weight of debts and hardships I can’t even begin to imagine.
For a moment, the desert taught me something more valuable than gold: Money shouldn’t consume us.
We live in a culture where most of us are defined by our ability to show off wealth. We are told by influencers that money can solve all our problems. People all around us are willing to ditch their morals to earn millions.
Was I about to join the long list of losers who’d failed to find anything?
Out in the desert, it doesn’t matter. The Mojave doesn’t care about credit scores or overdue tuition. Its beauty lies in its indifference, its refusal to be anything other than what it is. It simply exists, vast and wild, asking nothing but that we take a moment to see it.
I sat on a sunbleached rock and let the silence settle over me. For the first time in weeks, I didn’t feel the knot of stress tightening in my chest. Instead, I felt at peace for just a moment. Out among the titillated tarantulas and the hungry field mice, none of my monetary woes mattered.
Yes, money matters. Yes, we live in a world where financial struggles can shape every decision we make. But
maybe the trick is learning when to let go, even for just a moment. Step back, breathe in the dry, sage-scented air and remember there’s more to life than what’s in your wallet.
I left the Mojave with no fortune to show for my efforts, but I left with something else. A lesson, maybe, or just a stark reminder: Greed isn’t the answer. Chasing wealth, whether it’s in the dirt or a bank account, blinded me to what mattered. Sometimes the best thing you can find isn’t gold; it’s the clarity to know when to stop digging.
Back home, the unpaid bill at Santa Rosa Junior College still waits for me. I was over 150 years too late to take advantage of the Gold Rush. The Mojave didn’t give me riches, but it gave me perspective and for now, that feels like enough.
If you feel burnt out by the hustle, take a break and journey out into the Mojave. It doesn’t care about luxurious items or the newest tech. Out in the vast nothing, the only thing that matters is your ability to enjoy it.
A Man with No Name once said, “There’s two kinds of people, my friend: Those with loaded guns and those who dig. You dig.” For this entire trip, I was the one who dug, convinced that every scoop would unearth a pile of gold, or at least something shiny enough to impress my bank account.
I was being driven by greed, chasing wealth like I would be gunned down if I refused to stop. It never really made sense. I had traded in my free will for the chance to strike it rich, all the while I feared the desert's allure as though it was trying to control me. Standing in the middle of nowhere, with my pockets as empty as the desert around me, I was free.
I had spent the entire day digging for treasure only to realize the real gem was the peace that came to me when I finally walked away.
No treasure, no problem. I was free, and I had zero gold to carry around, which felt pretty good.
Faced with Trump’s second presidency, marginalized groups once again fear for their rights.
Trump’s first term separated immigrant families and enacted a travel ban directed at Muslim Countries. Trump opposed the Equality Act, a bill that would have not only expanded civil liberties, but also opposed discrimination while adding protections for LGBTQ+ people. He banned transgender people from serving in the military and implemented the “Deploy or Get Out” policy, which removed service members who were living with HIV.
Trump’s imminent second presidency, combined with Republican majority control of both the Senate and the House of Representatives, bodes ill for democracy.
Trump has vowed to mass-deport undocumented migrants, going so far as to state he will deploy the U.S. armed forces on day one. Other campaign promises include cutting federal funding to schools that teach “critical race theory” and “transgender” issues, which he calls “transgender insanity,” as published in a CBS article which lists some of Trump’s campaign promises.
By Leilany Sosa
If you, your family or friends fear what the Trump administration will bring, here are a few options that could empower you to protect yourself and your family.
For Undocumented Immigrants:
Be sure you know your immigration status and call the Immigration Court Hotline at 1-800-898-7180 to check on your case. Many free legal resources are available online at the ACLU website and at the Immigrant Legal Resource Center (ILRC).
The Department of Justice Executive Office for Immigration Review (EOIR) maintains a list of attorneys or legal service organizations that provide pro bono (free) legal services.
The Immigration Advocates Network (IAN) National Immigration Legal Services Directory maintains a national directory of nonprofit organizations that provide free or low-cost immigration legal services.
If you need to search for immigration lawyers near you, the American Immigration Lawyers’ Association (AILA)
can help you do so. Many legal aid organizations and civil rights groups are free or low cost, and are ready to help.
Be sure to keep all of your documents together in a safe place, memorize important phone numbers and prepare a safety plan for your family.
Remember, you DO NOT have to open the door to your home to authorities without a warrant. This is because of the fourth amendment that states you are protected from unreasonable searches and seizures. A valid warrant, signed by a judge, is needed to enter your home unless consent is given. Be sure to exercise your right to remain silent. If I.C.E. shows up you do not have to reveal your immigration status to them. You can ask for an attorney, and your due process rights allow you to have your day in court and be represented by an attorney. For more information, refer to the ACLU, Know Your Rights, Immigrants’ Rights page.
Another source, is the Save the United We Dream hotline at 1-844-363-1423.
Remember, knowledge is power. Know your rights, advocate for yourself and stay safe.
For the LGBTQ+ community, a second Trump term brings about great uncertainty. If the predictions for Project 2025 are true, what the manifesto states erase protections for the community.
During Trump’s first term he rolled back Obama-era non-discrimination protections and in the years since he first served, more than 500 anti-LGBTQ+ bills have been enacted, as shown by the Human Rights Campaign.
Protections that will be placed on the chopping block come January include federal funding that helps with gender-affirming care, workplace protections, and words that people use to self-identify, such as “sexual orientation and gender identity (SOGI), diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI), gender, gender equality, gender equity, gender awareness, gender-sensitive, abortion, reproductive health, reproductive rights” as reported in an article written for Axios.
When it comes to healthcare for LGBTQ+, especially for those requiring gender-affirming care, it’s important to keep all of your documentation for medical care together and to refill prescriptions when possible.
Keep copies of your legal name change and gender-change documents, and update passports or IDs if needed.
Be sure to save contact info for LGBTQ+ shelters and community centers you can go to.
For LGBTQ+ couples who are married or plan on doing so, make sure to get any legal protections in place for you and your partner. Secure power of attorney and any other needed health-related directives. Update beneficiary designations and update living trusts and wills. Collect your marriage or domestic partnership documents and create digital and print copies. If you need any advice for further protections, reach out to organizations like Lambda Legal and National Center for Lesbian Rights for help.
Keep guardianship documents for kids secure and/or have your second-parent adoption completed.
If you or someone you know is struggling with what this next presidential term may bring, please contact organizations like The Trevor Project, It Gets Better or GLAAD’s LGBTQ+ resource list for support.
This community is well-versed in fighting for rights. Remain firm, stay connected and continue to be each other’s safety net for the uncertain times ahead.
“When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.”
-Maya Angelou
Trump took actions during his first term that specifically affected women’s health. He went after the Affordable Care Act and took away provisions for women, including cost-free birth control. During this time he also successfully appointed three U.S. Supreme Court justices who later helped overturn Roe v. Wade, which ended federal protections for abortion rights.
With many states now restricting or banning abortions, women have found themselves in not only dangerous situations, but fatal ones. Doctors whose hands are tied because of confusing laws in states with bans have left many women without the proper and necessary care, as reported in an article in the Intelligencer.
For women, especially with regards to reproductive care, it will be important to understand the laws in your state for any legal medications you may need and what may be available to you. If care is unavailable for you in your state then you will need to know about any and all travel restrictions there may be between certain states if you must cross state lines for care.
Requests for long-term birth control, abortion pills and even permanent sterilizations have already increased since Trump was re-elected. Doctors have
even suggested getting replacements for IUDs and restocking on birth control as a way to help combat the restrictions that may take place once he is back in office, as reported by Time magazine.
Some emergency contraceptives, like Plan B and abortion pills like mifepristone or misoprostol, may be available online through telehealth, just be sure to check with your insurance. You can also find over-the-counter birth control in stores like Walmart, Costco, Walgreens and CVS.
According to what is laid out in Project 2025, under the Trump administration the government could look to collect data on abortions. Any states that would refuse to share that information could possibly have federal funds withheld. Another item outlined in the manifesto would be to use the Comstock Act to possibly eliminate access to abortion pills and materials required for care by banning the mailing of these items.
Those worried about the possible collection of data, especially those in states with bans or limited access for abortion care, could use a VPN or encrypted period tracking app like Clue. Clue has stated they don’t have to share data with US authorities because they are based in the EU. The National Partnership for Women & Families discusses how data privacy and reproductive freedom are not only linked, but now have an added risk post the Dobbs decision.
The fight for equity for women doesn’t stop with the upcoming administration. In the words of Kamala Harris: “No woman should be told she can’t make decisions about her own body. When women’s rights are under attack, we fight back.”
There’s reason for concern over another Trump presidency, especially for these marginalized groups. For some, survival will be the goal, as the risk of what this administration can bring is too real. My hope for those who are fearful of Trump’s second term is that you stand steadfast with your community and remain vigilant when it comes to knowing your rights and exercising them. Hold on to hope for better days are to come.
Participants of the "Caminata for Pathway to Citizenship through Registry" walk 52 miles from Plaza Herencia Mexicana in San Jose to San Francisco City Hall to create awareness for immigration reform on Aug 17-19, 2024. (Courtesy X'andri Bautista)
By Amy Moore
Erandi Hernandez Aguilar had never walked 20 miles in one day before August 17. But by August 19, she had walked that distance twice over during a three-day caminata organized to advocate immigration reform.
The caminantes walked to urge legislators to update the immigration registry process, which would grant citizenship to more immigrants.
Hernandez Aguilar, president of MEChA de Santa Rosa Junior College, was one of 250 participants in the “Caminata for Pathway to Citizenship through Registry,” a 52-mile walk from Plaza Herencia Mexicana in San José to San Francisco City Hall.
The walkers organized around a shared goal: to send a message to the presidential candidates that immigrant communities won't tolerate further criminalizing undocumented migrants in this country, said Renée Saucedo, immigrant rights attorney and activist who helped organize the walk. They also carried a message for Vice President Kamala Harris.
“We expect her to place at the top of her agenda a path to citizenship through the registry process,” Saudeco said.
Saucedo and other activists recalled
Harris’ mention of a path to citizenship during her acceptance speech at the Democratic Convention, though she did not focus on it. She has since restated her intention to create an earned pathway to citizenship.
The registry process, which has not been updated in over 50 years, governs how migrants can become citizens. Originally established in 1929, it allows undocumented migrants who have lived continuously in the U.S. since 1972 and meet other criteria, such as good moral character, to apply for permanent residency. However, the law has not changed since the 1986 Immigration Reform and Control Act.
Currently, the law requires immigrants to have lived in the U.S. for over 50 years to qualify. Activists advocate for updating the law to focus on years of residency, proposing a seven-year requirement instead of a fixed entry date.
Two federal bills, HR 1511 in the House and SB 2606 in the Senate, support this push. Activists are also advocating for local resolutions, like one passed by Berkeley’s City Council, and pushing for HR 117 in the State Legislature, which declares California's support for Citizenship Through Registry, Saucedo said.
“Our hope was that documented migrants would show how they are leaders in this movement, and we accomplished that,” she said.
A 52-mile walk through urban streets requires more than stamina. It demands discipline that can rise to the challenge. Members of the North Bay Coalition felt such a long walk “was necessary to do, to show urgency and the need for a path to citizenship for the 11 million [undocumented immigrants,]” Saucedo said.
With each stride, Hernandez Aguilar stepped into the role of leadership. Hernandez Aguilar was a guide and safety monitor for the walk, responsible for guiding the 200 participants through the urban streets.
The task required physical and emotional stamina. Safety monitors pulled wagons weighed down with water, snacks and emergency electrolytes while shouting out route and safety messages over a megaphone and reminding walkers to take breaks. Above all, they kept peoples’ spirits high with songs and chants.
On the first night, Hernandez Aguilar wondered if she’d be able to complete the walk. But she thought of her elders and ancestors, some of whom crossed
the border into the United States on foot, who have walked further.
The next morning, one elder gave the blessing, accompanied by the drum which beat like a heart. The elder encouraged the caminantes to walk with their feelings — the presence of their ancestors who walked to their futures, to the sensation of the sun, the presence of nature.
By the end of the second day, Hernandez Aguilar was exhausted. Her feet hurt. Her throat hurt. She was tired and hungry. They had been walking city streets all day long and were surrounded by tall buildings. About an hour from the hotel where they would sleep, she saw the sun glinting off the buildings and recalled the elder’s advice from twelve hours earlier.
Hernandez Aguilar pointed out the rays to the caminantes, reminding them of the elder’s morning message. And when they reached the hotel, they were greeted with songs and cheers.
College students made up about a quarter of the caminantes, according to Dafne Cruz Rodriguez, 20, a University of California, Berkeley student.
Cruz Rodriguez had never walked this far before, either. She had always wanted to participate in activism to support immigration reform, but there were obstacles. She was underage and concerned about the status of family members or feared exposure. This year, Cruz Rodriguez decided to participate, recognizing that others can’t because of fears of deportation or of the police.
“Creating awareness, making sure that politicians are paying attention to what we're asking for [and] a path to citizenship for immigrants [motivated her],” she said.
Cruz Rodriguez grew up in Sonoma County and participated in the migrant education program. Many members of her family and community have lived in the United States for 20 to 30 years, but without citizen status, their rights are limited, she said.
“I am very passionate to work towards immigration reform, because I want there to be a better future for those
folks, the older generations, who have been here for years and [who] keep con tributing to the community as community health workers, or to the economy — like in Sonoma County, specifically farm workers in the wine industry,” Cruz Rodriguez said.
The caminata drove home the interconnectivity between the diverse immigrant community for Cruz Rodriguez. Her an cestors come from La Mixteca, a region in the northern part of Oaxaca. She met a lot of people from that area on the caminata, as well as many from Central and South America as well. “A lot of folks who are immigrants are from Mexico — it’s a big population, but also there's folks from El Salvador, or folks from Guatemala, who also deserve to be able to have a pathway to citizenship.”
When they reached San Francisco City Hall people were cheering.
“We did it, we finished this, we completed this together as a group,” Cruz Rodriguez said. “That was the happiest moment, especially when people started hugging each other. It's a small step towards a better future for everyone.”
Throughout the walk, participants felt community support, with onlookers honking and cheering in solidarity. “There’s a difference between nice honking and bad honking,” Cruz Rodriguez joked, recalling workers in South San Francisco raising their fists in support. Though they encountered Trump campaign signs upon entering San Francisco, what stood out for her was the solidarity among walkers. “I heard so many stories and histories,” she said. “What we’re doing will one day be in the textbooks.”
X’andri Bautista, a senior at Sonoma State University, participated in the caminata for the first time as safety team leader. In the preparation leading up to the walk, Bautista felt the weight of responsibility to keep the large group of walkers safe on busy urban roads for three days. In addition to ensuring physical safety, the team also helped walkers and leaders take care of their emotional health.
Many walkers carried the memories of their ancestors’ journeys into the United States. So, in addition to
