Circuit Issue 4

THECIRCUIT

The official magazine of The Pioneer

Back to School Issue

4

FROM THE

I

EDITOR

n high school, I was always that weird girl who couldn’t wait for summer to end.

As much as I loved camp and days at the beach, some part of me always longed for textbooks and missed sharing my lunches with friends while we traded stories about the more ridiculous teachers.

Since coming to Whitman, my longing for fall has only gotten stronger.

No matter how many adventures I manage to pack into three months, the incredible community on campus and the sheer joy of running around Ankeny after dark always call me back, to the place that has felt most like my home since I packed my bags for college three years ago.

If the nostalgic posts on Whitman Encounters are any indication, many of you share my excitement to start another year in Walla Walla. And for some of you, this fall marks the first away from the homes you grew up in.

We, the staff of The Pioneer, put together this issue of The Circuit in the hope that it will introduce the incoming class to a slice of the Whitman experience, and help re-acquaint those of you who feel that you’ve already been gone for too long.

Molly Emmett has a helpful list of do’s and don’ts for the class of 2016 (page 36) and Pam London explains how to be a top-notch Missionary fan (page 14). For those wondering about other Encounters, Karah Kemmerly examines Whitman’s required seminar to see how it stacks up to other colleges’ first-year offerings (page 24).

Of course, we couldn’t do a back-to-school issue without talking about summer. Writer Allison Bolgiano and photographer Faith Bernstein explore the shifting landscape of Wallowa County, Ore. (page 20) through the Whitman in the Wallowas program, and four Whitties share personal experiences from their time off in our summer reflections section (page 16).

In these pages, I hope you’ll find something that inspires you to start the year off well, whether it’s the spark for your next off-campus adventure or a new restaurant you’d like to check out. Watching the hard work of the writers, photographers, designers and illustrators who put this magazine together over the summer has already inspired me to hit the ground running. Welcome back, Whitman.

It’s going to be a good year.

Rachel Alexander Editor-in-Chief

EDITORIAL

PRODUCTION

Rachel Alexander

Molly Olmsted

Editor-in-Chief Section Editors Alex Brott Aleida Fernandez Alex Hagen Karah Kemmerly Emily Lin-Jones Pam London Allison Work

Photography Editor Marie von Hafften

Illustration Editor Julie Peterson

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Production Manager Production Associates Ted Hendershot Sean McNulty

Chief Copy Editor Shelly Le

WEB

Web Editor

Blair Hanley Frank

The Circuit is a publication of the Whitman Pioneer.

THE CIRCUIT

The Pioneer is an entirely student-run publication published under the auspices of the Associated Students of Whitman College. Questions and letters to the editor can be submitted to editors@whitmanpioneer.com. All submissions must be attributed and may be edited for concision and fluency.

The Pioneer operates under the guidelines of its code of ethics, a document that is reviewed at least once per semester. To access the complete code of ethics of The Pioneer, please visit whitmanpioneer.com/about.

For information about subscriptions or advertising, please contact business@whitmanpioneer.com.

In This Issue

Photo Essay

Walking the Pilgrimage of St. James

Essay

The Absolutes of Cattle Grazing

Reflections

Summer Reflections: From Roadtrips to Crayfish

Article & Photo Essay

Wallowa County, Through Young Eyes

Essay

To Orcas Island and Back

Essay

Hidden Violence in Jackson Hole

7 12 16 20 27 30

TheCircuit | 3

In This Issue

D Whitman Direct Action Development in the Real World

by Daniel Swain and Sean McNulty photography contributed by the WDA team

4 | TheCircuit

escending to Guatemala’s Pacific coast feels like stepping slowly into a sauna. As the air heats up and becomes heavy with moisture, the land flattens and the crops grow tall until the only perspective available is directly down the road you travel.

Our bus, spewing diesel exhaust and splashing through puddles, turns onto a dirt road. Each successive pot-hole delivers a shuddering jolt.

Rubber, sugar cane and banana palm give way to fields of corn grown for subsistence, and the small town of Willywood springs like an oasis from the vast expanse of agriculture. First, we see the blinking of its two enormous cell phone towers.

Unaccompanied as they are by either pavement or two story buildings, the effect is incongruous.

Our team of five lived in Willy for two months to research the links between health and drinking water. Whitman Direct Action, our organization, was started seven years ago for Whitman students to discuss and act in

international development work. WDA’s projects are designed through independent studies, paid through fundraising and grants, and realized in the field without the guiding supervision of parents, professors, or professionals. We partnered permanently with Willywood two years ago, and the community has since told us clean water is their most pressing need. Most residents drink directly from wells, which are contaminated with bacteria, viruses, and agricultural chemicals. How can five undergraduates use their resources to help Willywood fight for such a basic right?

Answering this question is an ongoing task. Despite its lofty ideals, development work must happen in the messy world of everyday humanity. This is a difficult lesson for college students to learn. Our motivations, intellects and plans are writ in a world where complex thoughts receive a failing grade if expressed without a strong thesis, but the world of everyday human practices is simply too messy and complex to allow for neat solutions to problems.

Asking what we can do to help the community is a question without an end that frustrates our undergraduate training and desire for right and wrong answers. Our first step was to understand what was already being done to provide clean drinking water in Willywood.

There are two major projects already addressing the lack of clean drinking water in Willywood. The first is an Oxfam-funded distribution of ceramic water filters.

The second is the community’s own effort to obtain a functioning water tower. The former is a clean-cut example of an unsustainable development project, the latter an ongoing, ambitious struggle towards a partial solution. Ultimately, the best use of our grant money wasn’t implementing a third project; it was learning, through the lens of the tower and the filters, how not to do a project in Willywood.

This is a community that, at first glance, might not require outside help. It was forged in the crucible of social activism. After the brutal state-sponsored genocide of the Mayan people over two war-torn decades, landless peasants organized and participated in a caminata, or march, to win this land. In the spring of 1986, 16,000 indigenous marchers clogged the roads from the steamy lowland city of Nueva Concepcion over the rugged volcanic ridge of the Sierra Madre mountains into Guatemala City. They covered a distance of 150 kilometers over five days. Political opposition was so intense that they couldn’t accept gifts of food for fear that it would have been poisoned.

At the capital, the Catholic priests who had organized the march negotiated a deal with the president. Those who had participated in la caminata would receive a fallow cotton plantation in the hottest part of the country on credit. In this lifeless plain exhausted by industrial agriculture, the marchers planted trees, made houses from cardboard and plastic tarps, dug wells, and raised a vibrant community from the dirt. In the words of one resident, “When we got here, there was nothing but weeds.” Willywood was founded by people in possession of an awe-inspiring passion to build a better life for themselves.

It’s hard to say if the same drive that made the march so effective has been passed on to Willywood’s second

generation. As a method facing page: the community as seen of improving their from the flat top of the water tower from top: WDA summer 2012 project team—Sean lives, demonstration McNulty, Anna Murveit, Hannah Palkowitz, and demand have Daniel Swain, Alec Scheibe; children and cows been replaced by file down main street in Willywood; Anna Murveit development and aid. and Sean McNulty examine a map showing contamination of household wells in Willywood In the eyes of some, the community is no longer focused on the future. “We planted fruit trees to feed the next generation,” said one older resident, “and now people just worry about lunch for today.”

Do water projects provide a foundation for the next generations, or a material fix that’s as fleeting and disposable as a band-aid? In 1998, Guatemala was devastated by Hurricane Mitch. Oxfam delivered relief and identified fecal contamination as a top priority in Willy. This year, they provided forty ceramic filters to the community through a local women’s group named Madre Tierra.

TheCircuit | 5

Whitman Direct Action The filter project, in a best-case scenario, provides those families most at risk for water-borne illness with the tools to avoid it. Raphaela Olmos, a mother of eleven, told us emphatically that her filter improved the health of her children.

While slow, they effectively kill the pathogens living in her drinking water. However, the success of such a project cannot be so simply measured. It is an example of exactly the type of project that WDA does not want to do. The basic problem with the filters is that they are impermanent. They are not only prone to breaking, but wear out after a year of use. They are difficult to replace, as ordering them requires a bulk order through Madre Tierra by an organized group of community members who have already received them, and they are impossible to build in the community. They are not spectacularly expensive, but would likely be one of the larger single purchases a family would make in a year. It would be unlikely for a group of families to have that money available all at the same time.

In this way, not only did the filters offer Willywood little more than the opportunity to become dependent on an outside source of clean water, but that opportunity is fleeting and out of reach. Additionally, a project such as this says to the community that they are not to be trusted with their own health, and that time and money is better invested in a piece of technology than in people. After all of the filters have worn out, it is not clear what anyone will have gained.

The community raised their water tower on a grant from the Japanese embassy and logistical support from ASDENA, a Guatemalan organization. The tower is an ambitious effort that, like the filter project, has faced down a host of challenges and limitations. Unlike the filters, however, the tower is an inclusive, community-driven effort that is responsive to Willywood’s continual investment of resources in the continuing battle for clean water.

The tower will, assuming it was built to specifications, draws from a well dug by machine to 24 meters, deep below the water table. The water costs families a reasonable rate based on the electricity required for their personal consumption, and unburdens them from the danger of drinking water directly from their personal wells, which are shallow and easily contaminated. Unfortunately, a host of problems left the tank rusting in disuse. The electricity company drove prices for pumping up to prohibitive levels, scorpions chewed up the wiring, and mud and feces seeped into the distribution pipes.

We’d been in the community for about a month when the wiring was repaired. In a few days, men were digging up old pipes and laying fresh ones on every block. When we left in late July, the ash-grey water that had been stagnating the tank for more than a year was getting flushed through the taps. This isn’t a ‘resolution’ of the tank saga. The mayor has rallied the money for restoration, but has no clear plan for longterm maintenance. Nonetheless the community continues to hope and fight for safe water and better health, and the fight lurches forward. The tank, unlike the water filters, is not a failed solution; it is a partial and ongoing one, a temporary and incomplete response in a perpetual state of flux.

This, we believe, is appropriate. Just as the problem is more complicated than the presence of pathogens in water, the response to it must be more complex than filtering those pathogens out. Projects like these disrupt the question/answer

6 | TheCircuit

conceit of our classroom conditioning, in which we are taught to produce cogent answers directed at a particular set of expectations and directed questions. Thinking of community development in this framework is neither responsible nor commendable. Real, human problems—the kind we seek out and wrestle with in Willy—do not fit the classroom model.They are deep, difficult, and devoid of ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ answers.

Accepting this and incorporating it into our project and ongoing philosophy, is a major accomplishment of this summer.

If we acknowledge that human problems are complex, shifting targets, the solutions must be similarly dynamic to be longlasting. Therefore, the answers are abstract. They need to be updated and attended to; they can’t be left behind with a plaque and a date scratched into their foundations.

We didn’t spend $12,000 buying material goods for Willywood, nor did we pitch in our manual labor to install piping. We spent our time and energy on what Whitman students are trained to do best: learning. We conducted scientific tests, learned from community members and, in turn, shared with them the information we had gleaned ourselves. In short, we weren’t interested in delivering expensive, inaccessible solutions to Willy. Instead, we wanted to understand what works in development, what doesn’t, and what makes communities tick beyond the simplistic categories of problems and solutions.

Much of our daily work consisted of sharing the results of a simple test for the presence of fecal bacteria. If the well water we placed in our test-tubes turned inky black after forty-eight hours, we explained to the family that their water is contaminated. It is a dramatic indication of a health risk, a way to make the invisible visible, spread knowledge, and spark conversation. It’s also the first step as we move poco a poco— little by little—towards realizing change.

Some community members were devastated when the test tubes turned black. Others were unsurprised, but grateful for the visual evidence. One mother, worrying the black sample bottle with her fingers, was crushed. She testified, to our team and her neighbors at our culminating assembly, that she had begun boiling drinking water and cooling it overnight for her family. A worried housewife can transform behavior and broadcast that transformation to those around her and in doing so, she can affect change, for herself and for others, in a way that one year of water filtered by a piece of ceramics cannot.

There are already ways to drink potable water in Willywood. Water can be boiled, chemically treated with a safe amount of bleach, bought in five gallon jugs, or come from completing a functioning water tower. Additionally, residents could construct catchment systems to drink rain water during the wet season, or solar purifiers for the dry season. They could conserve their resources and buy water for their young children, who are most vulnerable to water-borne illnesses.

They could keep animals and pesticides far from their wells and construct composting toilets to prevent contamination of groundwater. They could do all these things and many more creative fixes that we haven’t thought of, but we cannot do it for them. It will take the sharing of knowledge, the investment of time, deep human connections and understanding, and the belief, among all involved, that those who live in Willywood are those who will create change in Willywood.

P

In Spain

Pilgrimage photo essay by Marie Von Hafften

E

xtending 500 miles across northern Spain, walking the Camino de Santiago is anything but the average vacation. Adventurous pilgrims from all over the world hike from St. Jean Pied du Port, France to Santiago de Compostela, Spain, where legend says the bones of Jesus’ apostle St. James the Elder (Santiago in Spanish) lie.

Recent books and films, like Paulo Coelho’s novel “The Pilgrimage” and Emilio Estevez’s 2010 film “The Way,” starring Martin Sheen, have drawn new generations to the journey. However, the Camino’s true heyday was in the Middle Ages, when visiting St. James was one of the three most important pilgrimages a Christian could make, along with those to Rome and Jerusalem. Around 1140, one of the world’s first travel guides, the Codex Calixtinus, was written to help pilgrims on the Camino. It included information about towns and landmarks, as well as the many miracles associated with the route.

Today, most pilgrims are drawn to the Camino for a variety of reasons: spiritual journey, the adventure of a mega-walk, and interest in the historical and cultural attractions in Spain. Although walking is traditional, bicycling and riding the route on horseback are also options. Special accommodation is available for pilgrims in hostels, restaurants and museums, decreasing expenses for what can be a month-long journey or more.

The Camino offers a lush assortment of characters to meet and attractions to pull you through the miles. Here are some of the stories TheCircuit | 7 and sights from the road.

The landscapes along the way range from green rolling mountains to flat plains as far as the eye can see in the wide meseta (plateau). Yellow wheat and golden cows line much of the way, which waves through mostly rural land.

Pilgrims add twig crosses to fences along the Camino. It is also common to see man-made stone piles, especially in memory of pilgrims who have passed away while traveling the Camino.

Colorful fabric and beads wave high in the Pyrenees near the border between France and Spain. The first 13 miles of the Camino from St. Jean Pied du Port climb 4,200 feet, making it one of the most challenging days of the walk.

8 | TheCircuit

Painted rocks offer encouragement outside of Santa MarĂ­a, a Templar church in VillalcĂĄzar de Sirga, Spain.

Pilgrims speak a wide variety of languages, but all quickly learn buen camino, an expression of well wishes offered to every pilgrim met on the trail.

Parts of the Camino overlay ancient Roman trading roads, which existed long before St. James himself. This section lies right outside of Cirauqui, Spain.

The Camino is well marked with bright arrows and scallop shells, a symbol associated with St. James.

TheCircuit | 9

++THE PIONEER'S GUIDE TO WHITMAN CAMPUS++ Piocom interactive fiction. Based on the novel by Allison Work.

Copyright <c> 1984 The Whitman Pioneer. All Rights Reserved.

Release 59 >look You find yourself in an unknown place, overwhelmed by the action, dazed and confused.

Maybe you know this feeling; maybe this, your arrival at Whitman, is your first experience with it. >look While Whitman is by no means a large campus, the local lingo and affectionate campus aficionados can be a lot to take in during the first few days, and locations are often critical during the bustle of orientation. Soon enough, you'll be name-dropping these popular places with the best of the seniors. But until that point, The Pioneer has got you covered. Here are the meanings of many of the monikers you'll hear tossed around and the basic knowledge that will help inform your first few weeks at Whitman, ensuring you make every class, appointment and date. >where am I Boyer Avenue This is one of the central streets cutting through campus. Running roughly east-west, Boyer borders Reid, Mem and Prentiss and is handy for direction-giving or walks. >go west Memorial Building The central building with the iconic clock tower reaching into the trees is Memorial Building, more frequently called Mem. This is where the administrative action takes place on campus,and you'll find everything from President Bridges' office to the Academic Resource Center and the Business Office. Fun fact: the lights around the face of the clock change color throughout the year! >inventory You have: a splitting headache no curly fries >go west Reid Campus Center As one of the oft-frequented locales of the prospective student phase, Reid Campus Center (sometimes abbreviated in print as RCC) is probably already on your radar. But some confuse the shortened title of Reid with a person named Reid and get confused when you say you're going to grab some curly fries or check your mail at him. People are most likely referring to the building, so just keep that in mind as you hear the onesyllable word tossed around. >go north BFFC and BFC The two are similar in letters, but vastly different in location and purpose. BFFC, or Baker Ferguson Fitness Center, is home to a large weight room, Harvey Pool and lockers and showers. BFFC is on one side of campus, behind the science building and next to Cordiner, down Park Street from Reid. It is often referred to as simply "the gym," but be sure you've clarified which gym you're discussing, because Sherwood Athletic Center, right across the street, is home to multipurpose gyms and the varsity weight room. BFC, Baker Faculty Center, is on Boyer next to Prentiss. The building hosts special events for faculty and students. While you're more likely to frequent BFFC than BFC, some 10 | TheCircuitstill don't know the difference of use between the buildings by spring. first-years

POINTS: 42 >go north Clarette's Tucked away next to BFFC is Clarette's, the beloved breakfast-all-day diner barely a stone's throw from central campus. Known widely for their pumpkin pancakes, Clarette's is just as famous on the Whitman campus for the Clarette's Challenge. The successful Challenge consists of pulling an all-nighter (whether for studying or leisure), staying up until Clarette's opens at 6 a.m. and savoring the yummy food and much-appreciated coffee. The practice usually involves seeing at least a few other Whitman acquaintances if you choose your night well. >look north Athletic Fields Unless you are part of a sports team frequenting these fields for practice and games, you might not immediately know where to find the Whitman soccer or softball fields.

They are about a 10-minute walk from much of campus, tucked away right along Highway 12. The fields are a bit confusing to find because they are next to DeSales High School and their adjoining fields, but the Whitman fields are clearly marked by the blue Whitman College sign. Walking north up Penrose Avenue from right behind the Science Building spits you out at their entrance on E Sumach Street. >go east Ankeny Field Ankeny Field is often referred to as Ankeny, but other nicknames that you may hear may include Ank, Anks and/or Spanks. As you probably already know, this is where a whole lot happens on campus--from pick-up sports to orientation activities and barbeques to water balloon wars. As summer wanes and temperatures begin to fall, remember to keep an eye out for those sprinklers--they can be known to suddenly start up, requiring quick feet to dodge the water. >exit southeast Lakum Duckum Also bordering Boyer is Lakum Duckum, home to the majority of Whitman's many mallard ducks. College Creek cuts through the lake as well as much of the rest of campus, providing duck-viewing locations throughout your day. Look closely at the male mallards for curly black feathers on their tails and be sure to keep an eye out for for ducklings in the spring! >chase ducks east Cordiner Glen Right below the Office of Admission and Financial Aid, along Boyer, is a well-kept garden commonly monikered Narnia. The picturesque landscape features College Creek, as well as various paths, plants and benches perfect for a quiet conversation or escape when the foliage is plentiful. >go home Prentiss, Jewett and Lyman You're probably already familiar with these three residence halls because they are just that--residence halls. But these three words are also used on their own to describe not a living space but an adjacent eatery. Up Boyer Avenue from Reid, Prentiss is open seven days per week for all meals and tends to host the largest number of menu options.

Off the main foyer of Jewett Hall is the dining hall, open most days with several food options. Hidden away behind the large fireplace in the Lyman common area, Lyman Dining Hall offers limited meals, self-served and a quiet place to eat with friends. Some people make it to their senior year without eating in Lyman--or even finding their way there--but don't let the size intimidate you. It's actually possible to hold a coherent TheCircuit | 11 conversation and can be a nice change from the hustle of the other two halls.

Dealing in Absolutes

I

Lessons learned with anti-ranching activists in Sun Valley, Idaho

by Alex Brott

am a creature of compromise. It started as soon as I could understand my parents’ dinner-table conversations. Both of them work in human resources, making them among the most politically correct human beings on the planet. In their line of work mediation, collaboration and compromise are the Holy Grail. Civility and understanding are fundamentally important.

My education at Whitman, both academic and social, has reinforced this mindset: there is always a compromise, and we are all better served if we can sit down together and share a civil discussion.

I learned to value balanced and two-sided approaches to issues and respected those who did the same. This is a mindset that I see as endemic to the Whitman population. Whitties would rather get along and find solutions agreeable to everyone than start controversy or rock the boat.

Accordingly, I developed an inability to deal in absolutes and distrust for those who did. I took pride in my openness to new ideas and encouraged such behavior in others. Not until this summer did I understand the power of absolute views to manifest in absolute, decisive action.

My work this summer shocked me into a more practical, but no less critical, way of thinking. I interned for ten weeks in beautiful Sun Valley, Idaho with Western Watersheds Project, a conservation group with the simple goal of completely removing all livestock grazing from Western public lands.

Among those who debate resource use in the West, they stand out as radicals. Regardless, I went in with an open mind, ready to learn about Western resource conflicts and the inner-workings of non-profit groups.

Many of my summer responsibilities were carried out in the field, where I witnessed first-hand the destruction that livestock ranching causes. Western public lands ranching is the most destructive resource use in the American West due to the sheer area that

12 | TheCircuit

it encompasses. The 11 westernmost states are 56 percent public. Several have a much higher proportion (Nevada is 84 percent public lands). Livestock are kept on nearly every suitable corner of this land.

The destruction cattle and sheep cause on these lands is obvious to those who care to look. Grazing destroys the landscape and displaces native wildlife.

Moreover, it is a primary cause for the fences and roads that criss-cross the West; it encourages the needless hunting and killing of endangered grey wolves and other predators (at the behest of ranchers); it spreads invasive weeds such as cheatgrass which cause wildfires to spread more quickly; it aggravates already tenuous issues of water rights, since many agricultural water diversions are used for livestock feed. An elite ranching lobby, entrenched in Western politics and federal agencies, rabidly defends this destruction. This turmoil produces only 2 percent of America’s beef.

WWP has been so successful in combating these abuses to the landscape that ranchers across the West know, hate, and often fear the organization. To date, they have gotten livestock completely removed from 150,000 acres of Western lands and reduced grazing numbers on thousands more acres, mostly through litigation and voluntary buy-outs. They have a long way to go to clear the 250 million acres of Western public lands used for grazing, but they have certainly left a mark. Their Executive Director Jon Marvel is a powerful force in the environmental community.

At the outset of my internship, everything was going well. I was learning a ton, having a really good time and getting excited about WWP’s mission. I was doing real work with a successful organization.

However, my first time alone in the field turned my idyllic summer job into a troubling ethical dilemma.

While touring a grazing allotment that WWP is currently working to shut down, I ran into a rancher—presumably the permitee of that allotment—driving the other way on a narrow dirt road. As he drove past, I found myself unable to

look into his eyes. I could not stomach the fact that I, a liberal outsider from California, had come into his historic home to tell him that his way of life was wrong. Despite being immersed in the same destruction I’d spent weeks exploring, I spent the rest of that excursion deeply conflicted about my role on these lands.

My entire belief system–emphasizing compromise–told me that what I was doing was wrong. Surely livestock cause some environmental degradation, but does that demand a complete moratorium on grazing? Surely there is a middle ground that neutralizes much of the environmental impact but still allows some ranching. Is it necessary to flatly deny many thousands of ranchers their livelihoods rather than pursue some sort of collaborative management? Do I even have the right as a “city boy” environmentalist to embed myself in the politics of the rural West?

Ask any WWP staff-member and the answer is a quick, confident “yes.”

Here lay the basis of my discomfort: WWP necessarily deals in absolutes.

There is no way to balance Western public lands ranching to be both economically and environmentally stable. Its preservation as an industry serves only a small elite. Due to its broad destructiveness, Western public lands ranching absolutely must stop.

This troubled me for several weeks.

I asked critical questions of various staff members and spent more time in the field seeing the ubiquitous destruction livestock has caused. I methodically exhausted every conceivable defense of the livestock industry. Eventually, I came around. I was able to deal in an absolute, and I’m glad.

The destruction caused by grazing benefits relatively few. Corporations hold the majority of grazing permits on public lands, and land is highly concentrated in their hands. Roughly 40 percent of grazing lands are held by three percent

of permitees. Those lands not held by corporations are more likely to be used by millionaire ‘hobby ranchers’ than family operations. Ranching is not profitable at small or medium scales. On private land, it is nearly impossible to turn a profit without over-loading rangelands with unsustainable numbers of livestock. It is only possible on federal lands because of the pittance ranchers pay to rent them from the government—$1.35 per cow per month, compared to the $18 to $20 it can cost to lease state or private lands.

However, these facts didn’t alleviate my discomfort with forcing ranchers out of business. What if that permittee with whom I crossed paths depended on some meager ranching income to support his family? Or send his kids to college? This question plagued me until the bitter end of my internship. But again, a few key facts defend the absolute viewpoint.

The popular, idealized vision of Western communities as dependent on ranching and other resource uses is a myth.

Rural western communities are dependent on government transfer payments (to fund, for example, fire and police departments, city administrators and public school teachers) for the majority of their income.

There is not one community—town, city, county—in the American West that is dependent on public lands ranching.

Moreover, because of the financial instability inherent to ranching, what few small family ranches exist almost always have second incomes. As such, a complete moratorium on Western public lands ranching would not have widely devastating impacts on rural economies. I concede that this goal inevitably puts a small number of people out of much-needed jobs; I still am not comfortable with this fact. Yet, in the face of a much greater good, these few sacrifices are worthwhile.

By the end of the summer, a glorious change came over me. In accepting

WWP’s mission as the only rational conclusion to a much-raged Western debate, I freed myself to get truly passionate about the work that they were doing. While I acknowledge that there are still aspects of the issue I have not considered, I have kept a critical ear and heard enough to make an informed decision. In doing so I have become empowered to pursue determined action.

In studying politics, one consistent lesson has been the need to always dig deeper into problems with apparently clear-cut solutions. If you’ve stumbled upon a clear and obvious answer, you’re probably overlooking some critical detail. This mindset is as empowering as it is paralyzing. On the one hand, we become more critical observers of the world around us, ultimately coming up with superior solutions to the world’s problems. Yet, we can feel paralyzed into inaction if we forever complicate ideas, plagued by the imperfect solutions that they imply.

This is why learning to accept carefully thought-out absolutes is so important. Absolutes allow us to break down the paralysis seemingly inherent to those of us with a critical mind to ‘save the world,’ and take decisive action. Only once we have embraced an idea wholeheartedly and completely can we willingly dedicate our lives’ work to it.

This lesson has been the most important of my summer with WWP. Although I have realized that the health of Western landscapes will not constitute my life’s work, I appreciate having tasted the drive that comes with this kind of absolute passion. The experience has been empowering. I can only hope that as I enter my senior year and life beyond, I can incorporate a sort of bitter, passionate absolutism into the parts of my life where it is both appropriate and necessary, and in doing so begin to leave my mark on the world.

TheCircuit | 13

National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA) Division III Northwest Conference

Varsity sports: 14 Club sports: 14 Intramural sports: 9 ( . . . and counting)

THe sporti ng life

W

by

hitties will inevitably find something to bond over. Section mates often find themselves taking over entire tables in the dining hall. Running into the same person every day at the Reid coffee cart or sharing a study table in the library slaving over that Encounters essay you forgot about can bring a group of first-years together in an instant.

For those athletic—and sometimes not-so-athletic—types, sports can be the way to go. Whether you are joining your section’s intramural football team, pulling on a Whitman jersey for a varsity soccer game, or watching your friends from the sidelines, you will find yourself drawn into the evergrowing Whitman sports community.

On paper, Whitman is a small liberal arts college competing athletically at the Division III level. On the court, field or diamond, however, Whitman’s fans are DI quality.

Instead of large stadiums or massive arenas, Whitman’s athletic complexes contribute to providing an intimate atmosphere where Missionary fans are literally inches away from the field of competition. Let’s face it, neither Whit-

14 | TheCircuit

pam

l o n d o n

man nor Walla Walla are large enough to pack a venue with thousands of fans on any given game day. However, we have proven we can create a big-time sports atmosphere.

Two sets of bleachers line George Ball Court in Sherwood Athletic Center, home of varsity basketball and volleyball games. Whitties do not take up just one section of the bleachers, but rather the entire side. Many of us stand and cheer throughout the game and, in some cases, heckle the opposing team (always in good fun, of course).

The same goes at soccer games, where fans line one side of the field and sit so close to the touchline that referees often have to push the fans back so the referees can run. Fans surround the outdoor courts at tennis matches and cheers from the viewing decks echo around the pool at swim meets.

Going to varsity athletic events brings the campus together, creating an atmosphere unlike any other in Walla Walla. The energy is palpable and the spirit undeniable. The iconic chant, “Missionaries, Missionaries, we’re on top” resonates across campus at athletic events.

Whitties are passionate and know how to have a good time, the perfect combination for Whitman fandom.

Emotions ride high and the studentathletes feed off of it, making Whitman a tough place for an opponent to try to steal a win.

How can you get involved?

Whitman is a very tight-knit campus and word travels quickly. When it comes to getting involved with activities like sports, the best way to get information is to talk to your fellow Whitties.

Sign up for club and intramural sports’ listservs at the Activities Fair tables. Even if you are not positive you want to join club volleyball or participate in intramural football, sign up anyway.

Watch for signs arond campus or notices in the college’s publications, including The Pioneer. Check the student listserv, which is constantly updated daily by students. Talk to your resident adviser and student academic advisor; they can direct you to the right people to contact.

Finally, talk to people who you see doing your sport. It’s easy to see what is going on around campus just by walking from the Reid Campus Center to Jewett Hall. For example, starting early in the school year, the club soccer team plays pick-up on Ankeny Field. The volleyball teams play at the courts by the Hall of Science and behind Anderson Hall.

Bottom line: Whitman is rigorously academic and enthusiastically athletic.

We are students, but we are also fans

and athletes, equally dedicated to our schoolwork as we are to our sports. Going to athletic events can be like a re-

lease valve, a place where Whitties can let go and scream at the top of their lungs in support of their classmates.

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TheCircuit | 15

Summer!

For the Circuit’s back-to-school issue, Whitties wax prosaic about their time off.

St. Paul Homecoming

L

ike many of my friends and classmates at Whitman, I was a bit reluctant to go home for the summer. After finals culminated in the cathartic joy of Holi and other celebrations, I realized that I had grown even more fond of this school and its wonderful community than I had anticipated. After an insanely busy final few weeks of school, the thought of spending a summer “doing nothing” seemed almost unimaginable, not to mention unimaginably boring.

However, after doing some thinking about my situation, I realized that this reluctance to go home echoed my reluctance to leave home to start my freshman year at the end of last summer. Envisioning an endless cycle of nostalgia and increasingly melodramatic diary entries, I decided to let go of my worries and just embrace whatever it was that my summer would turn out to be.

As it turns out, readapting to life at home wasn’t quite as difficult as I expected. After a semester of 8 a.m. classes five days a week, having the ability to sleep in was nothing short of magnificent. So many small aspects of home life—regular access to non-dining-hall food, late-night episodes of “The Nanny,” singing along to Beyoncé while driving—felt like small victories after being deprived of them for a while. Even though these relaxing moments were interspersed with homework and tests for a Spanish class I was taking at a local university, it still felt worlds away from my busy life at Whitman.

16 | TheCircuit

by Alex Hagen

Another potentially more important part of coming back home was reconnecting with my ties to Minnesota.

After living in Walla Walla for nine months, reacquainting myself with Saint Paul took a bit of adjustment. I realize that it probably doesn’t seem like much of a culture shock, but I was surprised to see how much certain things had changed— hey, we’re finally catching on to the frozen yogurt trend!— and how much the rest really hadn’t since I’d left last August.

The idea of inhabiting two different worlds, of leaving home to find another, is one that every college student must tackle at some point. If I learned nothing else this summer, I learned to embrace this duality and accept that sometimes it’s okay to escape the pressures of the school year. It’s perfectly fine to make time to just read for pleasure, or take a leisurely stroll with friends for an afternoon or familiarize yourself with Netflix’s many interesting offerings.

Because of my hectic schedule in college, I tended to feel restless whenever I didn’t have a lot of tasks to accomplish. Too often, we think that being “busy” is the only way to be successful, or to have an interesting life or to feel accomplished. But after a summer of hanging out with friends, eating ice cream in the sun and a bit of Facebook stalking in between Spanish assignments— maybe that should be the other way around—I can say with confidence that a lazy summer is just as rewarding.

Above: The author’s parents en route from Anaheim to the Napa Valley. Photos contributed by Cole.

Open Road Chaos

M

y mom is a talented woman. She is a well-practiced photographer and a gifted pianist, but her strongest talent is her ability to navigate us toward any traffic jam within a ten-mile radius without fail. No matter how hard she tries to avoid them, we inevitably end up crawling down the interstate at ten miles per hour while she yells “Traffic update!” repeatedly into her cellphone at the automated 511 man, who interrupts each time stating, “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that,” with an air of facetious politeness.

Her most recent accomplishment was the marathon trip we took back from Anaheim in the beginning of June.

She managed to twist what would normally be a sevenhour trip into a grueling 12-hour trek up the California coast.

It was warm, but not exceptionally sweltering, the morning we left the Best Western that had housed us for the past three days and said our goodbyes to the Happiest Place on Earth. Nevertheless, my mom opted not to travel up I-5 in order to avoid the heat of the Central Valley. Instead, we sidestepped Steinbeck country for the coastal redwoods of the western half of the state. It added two hours to the trip but was a decent trade off for the improvement in scenery.

A couple of hours into the trip, we hit our first traffic jam.

Exhausted from the deluge of sunbaked people and forced euphoria that had comprised our two-day bout in Disney Land, I drifted into sleep and woke up in time for lunch at an In-n-Out Burger along the highway. Another nap, another meal, two more traffic jams and three episodes of “Doctor Who” later, we finally entered the Napa Valley, and I was in bed before midnight.

Lately, family vacations have consisted primarily of road trips, which I’m fine with—I do a lot of flying during the school year, and the Bay Area is a day’s worth of driving away from the ocean, the mountains and even LA or Portland. But this does mean that we spend a lot of time in the car, especially with my mom’s affinity for traffic jams. After coming back from camping in Humboldt County—a day of which had consisted of driving two hours to get to the coast, spending two hours there, and then

by Elizabeth Cole

driving two hours back—I had spent enough time in the back seat of my mom’s van for a lifetime, let alone one summer, and I opted out of the family road trip to Idaho that left in only four days.

It was the first time I hadn’t accompanied my family on a family trip, and it was strange helping them pack the car and then waving goodbye to return to a house cloaked in a silence that hadn’t been heard within those walls since before my two siblings and I were born and our house was transformed from a two-person household into a five-person home with a menagerie of pets. It was strange falling asleep as the only one in the house, strange not having to let someone know when I would be home, and a hell of a lot easier keeping the kitchen clean. But while I was given the week of rest I had hoped for as my family made the ninehour drive to visit my older sister in Boise, I missed out on some of the fundamental aspects of our family vacations: the traffic jams, the misadventures and the inability for anything to go as planned.

Instead of wandering into seedy casinos in Nevada in search of food only to be forced out by the oppressive cloud of cigarette smoke, I ate comfortably outside on Napa’s mild July evenings.

I missed out on Cabela’s, the theme park-sized sporting goods store with over 50 different taxidermy animals on display, and I missed out on trying to teach my older sister and her husband how to play Settlers of Catan, failing miserably and settling for a game where everyone more or less followed the rules.

In staying home, I exchanged clamor for solitude, uncertainty for regularity and managed to spend less than half the week in the passenger seat of my mom’s van. I take comfort, however, in knowing that many more opportunities lie ahead to vacation with my family. And I take comfort in knowing that I haven’t missed out on all of the fun. For there will never be a family road trip where we hit less than two traffic jams, there will never be a family camping trip where we don’t forget to bring the key to the overhead storage and have to drive a mile to the nearest town to find a locksmith, and even if I do skip out on another trip, my sister will always be there to send me picture messages of all 50 taxidermy animals they have on display at Cabela’s.

TheCircuit | 17

Summer Reflections

Above,

Crayfish, Sea Urchins and

I

started my three-week exchange in French Polynesia with enthusiasm, excitement and an unhealthy amount of ignorance. Tahiti, and the rest of the Polynesian islands, were not given even a cursory glance in my high school history courses and had been relegated, in my mind, to that class of ridiculously photogenic, tourist-filled islands located far at sea.

On arriving in the capital city of Papeete, I was keenly aware of my unfamiliarity with the Society Islands and was determined to immerse myself in French Polynesian culture. Since I was starting from scratch, I decided to focus primarily on the two things that form the base of any culture: language and food. Thanks to years of French classes, I adjusted to speaking French on a daily basis fairly easily, but French Polynesian food turned out to be more of a curveball.

My first gastronomic adventure was oursin, a seafood specialty that my host grandmother offered me on my third night in Tahiti. Unfortunately my French vocabulary was lacking, so though I cheerfully said, “J’aimerais les gouter!” (I’d like to try them!), I had no idea what oursin might be. My host mother, sensing my utter incomprehension, told me, “They live in the sea,” which did not much narrow down the options of exactly what I would soon be putting into my mouth.

Once I saw the oursins on my plate I knew they couldn’t be fish. They looked like a pile of small, grey tongues sitting in their own slime. Thankfully, they tasted better than they looked, but

18 | TheCircuit

their soft texture and salty flavor were still far from pleasant.

Several days later, while swimming in the ocean, my host mother pointed to a purple sea urchin studded with black spines and cried with delight, “Un oursin!” At the time, I was relieved; we had just stepped around a large colony of fat, oozing sea slugs and, in comparison, sea urchin sounded like a delicacy.

My adventures with seafood, which were inexorably paired with my regret that I did not truly absorb my beginning French food vocabulary, continued throughout my sojourn in French Polynesia. Happily, not all of them ended badly. Several foods, such as a raw tuna dish from the island of Raiatea, were downright delicious. Others were delightful in their novelty, like when my host family’s grandmother cooked us a fish the size of a large serving platter, caught four hundred meters below sea level.

One meal in particular stands out from all the rest: a lunch of two halved crayfish. Crayfish is a specialty of Raiatea, a small island to the north of Tahiti, and I was excited to try it.

Little did I know that eating crayfish is like a waging a long, grueling war in an effort to conquer an infinitesimal country with no resources. All enjoyment lies in the thrill of the hunt.

First, you have to tear out the crayfish tail meat with your bare hands. To do this successfully, the spiny exoskeleton must be pried up and then torn to pieces. This is fairly tough, both on your hands and fighting spirit, but it is nothing compared to what lies ahead. To get at the meat in the chest area, you have to channel your inner berserker and tear off the

Bonus summer:

Within my first two weeks, my suitcase filled with clothes went nearly untouched as I switched between my work clothes and my yoga pants (not to exercise in, but to

watch “The Daily Show” in). The glamorous summer life I had imagined for myself quickly vanished . . .

Read about Aleida Fernandez’s internship at Parenting Magazine on our website, www.whitmanpioneer.com.

from left: raw tuna from Raietea, crayfish and fries, picked-over crayfish, and utensils. Photos contributed by Welter.

Tahitian Culture crayfish’s spiny chest plate along with all of its remaining legs.

Needless to say, this is a painful and bloody task. Your fingers get cut up, your joints ache from pulling at the tough exoskeleton and the meat is still not accessible to a fork. You are forced to suck it out if you want to avoid dealing with the crayfish’s sharp spines, but sucking out the meat is a practiced skill and can be both difficult and embarrassing for novices. Crayfish juice goes everywhere, legs hit you in the face and you accidentally swallow something hard.

After that, you go after the head, which requires surgical precision paired with merciless ferocity. The coup d’état lies in breaking all of the legs and slurping out the juice and the meat. All that is left is the ravaged shell of the ill-fated crayfish.

“That crayfish put up a good fight,” I wanted to say upon finishing my meal, “but I showed him who’s boss!”

The crayfish, raw tuna and sea urchin all stay in my memory both because of the foreignness of the food and the wonderful conversation that accompanied it. To sit down for an extended dinner filled with regional specialties is, in my opinion, the best way to learn about a culture. There is always an element of the familiar in eating—it is so wonderfully human for friends and family to sit down and talk together at dinner.

The conversations that stand in my mind from my exchange in French Polynesia almost exclusively occurred towards the end of a long, relaxed meal. By that point, all the day’s worries and successes had been aired and I was free to steer

by Mary Welter

the conversation in nearly any direction. My host family and I talked about everything from the strengths and weakness of French politics, to how to make homemade coconut ice cream.

Talking with my host family and the other Tahitians I met, I realized that, for the most part, their view of America stems from the television shows they watch and the groups of American tourists they see in passing.

I was one of the first Americans that my host family’s grandmother had met. When I was in French Polynesia, I was truly representing my country—I became a large part of the whole that is “America” to her. That’s a sobering thought, isn’t it? Phrases like “I knew an American . . . ” or “I knew a Spaniard . . .” are common, and one individual can become a whole country to someone. One season of Desperate Housewives, a few conversations with a group of tourists and two dinners with a foreign exchange student can be America’s entirety to a Tahitian. Conversely, three weeks with a Tahitian host family, a handful of memorable seafood meals and a few hundred photographs of the turquoise Pacific can be Tahiti’s entirety to an American.

However, these narrow quantifications, though satisfying in their conciseness, overlook the humor and wellmeaning clumsiness inherent in any successful meeting between two cultures. To immerse oneself in another culture is to embrace everything that comes one’s way, whether it be new perspectives, different beliefs or unruly crayfish legs.

TheCircuit | 19

Wallowa County: Through Yo t ex t by A l l is on Bol gi a no pho t o s by fa it h ber ns t ein

W

hen I drove into Wallowa County in early June, I could not get enough of the landscape around me.

I leaned forward in my seat and craned my neck to get a better look at basalt outcroppings carved by the Grande Ronde River charging downstream, the green pastures dotted with black cattle and at the snow-blanketed Wallowa Mountains growing ever bigger.

This corner of northeastern Oregon has such an impressive landscape that it comes as no surprise to see visitors flock to Wallowa Lake, into the Eagle Cap Wilderness, or down into Hell’s Canyon without noticing the human geography around them. The longer I spent here through my internship with the local non-profit Wallowa Resources, the more I realized that the land is just part of what makes this county fascinating.

The 7,000 people who live in Wallowa County (population density two people per square mile) add as much character to the county as the towering mountains and deep canyon country.

“People visiting the county need to take an interest in knowing the people and not just the trees or the animals and the mountains, because the people are what make it what it is,” said Jeremy McColluch,

20 | TheCircuit

a local rancher and agriculture teacher, with a hint of frustration in his normally even-tempered voice.

I decided to follow Jeremy’s advice and learn from the people of Wallowa County. This is a place of complexities, and most of these complexities occur at the intersection of land and people.

Wallowa County stands at the threshold of a new Western economy reliant on tourism, but has not departed from its timber and ranching roots.

Wallowa County used to be the picture of an Old West resource economy, with ranching, farming and timber driving growth, until 1995, when Forest Service regulations closed the county’s three mills, devastating the county’s logging economy and leaving 20 percent of the workforce without jobs.

Since then, the county has steadily moved toward a New West economy focused on natural amenities. After the timber crash, the county expanded its economic base with bronze artistry and increased tourism, which have changed the appearance of some parts of the county. On an average day this summer, in the small town of Joseph, tourists filled streets lined with bronze statues of Nez Perce natives and soaring bald eagles as they perused cafés and art galleries before driving their kayak-laden cars to the lake.

The distinction between New and Old West is more than an economic one— it is a matter of changing perspectives. To understand Wallowa County’s current character and its future along the New West vs. Old West continuum, I turned to the county’s young people to see how they will shape the relationship between the land and people in the future.

Whitman Arrivals After the collapse of a natural resource industry, some Western towns fall into poverty, while others develop a new economy based more on tourism and recreation. Wallowa County’s attempts at redefinition have drawn several former Whitman students to the region.

Ben Hayes graduated from Whitman in 2011 with a degree in environmental humanities and moved shortly afterward to Wallowa County to take a job with Fishtrap, a literary non-profit. Yet, it was more than a full-time job that drew Ben to Wallowa County.

“People don’t get along in Western Oregon whereas here, there is such a vibrant community and pretty remarkable natural resources. I was really attracted to that,” he said, comparing the area west of Portland where his family operates a forestry business to Wallowa County.

The relation between the community

oung Eyes

and the land ended up bringing 2009 graduate Julia Lakes to Wallowa County as well. She was introduced through her environmental studies senior seminar when her project group was assigned to focus on Wallowa Lake and the Wallowa Land Trust, a non-profit that works to preserve the rural nature of Wallowa County through private land conservation.

“I . . . came up here as part of the project and was really inspired,” she said.

The Land Trust happened to be looking for an intern and hired Julia.

She stayed on, and is now the Director of Education and Outreach.

Ben and Julia were pulled to Wallowa County by New West issues: how to innovate after the collapse of a natural resources industry and how to conserve open space as residential development pressure increases. The other young people I met were all raised in Wallowa County, and they tackle the challenge of keeping parts of the Old West thriving in a changing community. grazing calmly 25 yards away.

Jeremy was born and raised in the Local Connections town of Wallowa where he currently As I stood nervously in a pasture with teaches agriculture science and works 20 of Jeremy McColluch’s Texas Longhorn on the family’s Rocking M Ranch. cattle, he proudly told me that the bull we Growing up on a ranch gave Jeremy an were looking at has the longest set of horns economic advantage and the knowledge in Oregon. Thankfully, the bull did not see he needed to pursue an agricultural any need to show off his horns and kept career. Getting started in agriculture

when your family does not own land is challenge for young people.

“You aren’t seeing a whole lot of long-term retention unless it’s a family operation. The real estate prices here aren’t exactly conducive to a young person coming back and starting up, and that’s driven by tourism and . . . by some other factors,” said Jeremy.

TheCircuit | 21

Buck Matthews would understand what Jeremy is talking about. Buck grew up in Imnaha, a tiny town located deep within the Imnaha River Canyon. Growing up, Buck’s dad worked on ranches, but the family never owned a ranch. To fulfill his dream of running cattle, Buck first had to buy a house in town in order to buy a grazing permit for his 100 cows. He and his wife Chelsea will be paying off the cows for another six years and the house for twice that.

“It’s a tough business. There’s not a lot of wiggle room financially. There’s not a lot of money to be made,” said Buck.

Despite the economic difficulties, Buck wants to keep the ranching tradition alive, raising his kids to learn the value of hard work, caring for animals and land.

In addition to the economic challenges of ranching, many young people in Wallowa County and throughout the West are choosing to leave family agricultural traditions behind. The median age of a Western rancher is now over 50, leaving many to wonder if running cattle is to become a thing of the past. Still, a part of Wallowa County’s history was very much alive when I pulled into the 6 Ranch. A 100-year-old white farmhouse stands

sentinel over the land where cattle and sheep graze next to newly constructed greenhouses. The resident of the house, 24-year-old Adele Nash is the 5th generation to work her family’s ranch.

“I’m really prideful about this land. Generations and generations before me have held [this land] at such a high value that they tried to make it better each time, held onto it, didn’t let anything happen to it. It is kind of a huge weight, but in a really positive way,” she said.

Ranchers like Adele prove that with the right adaptations, it is possible to keep traditions alive, even in the face of a shifting economy.

Grounded Perspectives I’ve learned that in Wallowa County, caring for the land does not mean leaving it untouched. Here, taking care of the land and working the land frequently overlap. Locals call this stewardship, and it doesn’t look like the hands-off, back-to-

22 | TheCircuit

nature approach currently en vogue in urban areas. Instead it means thoughtfully working the land, a practice which sometimes spans generations.

“The family legacy here has shown me a level of stewardship that you don’t see many other places. Families that have been on a single piece of land three, four, five generations are much more inclined to take care of that land and know the systems of that land much better than somebody who has just showed up and is part of a real estate investment trust from Boston,” said Ben, referencing out-of-town land acquisitions that are increasingly common in the West.

On the 6 Ranch, Adele talks about the land as if it were a member of the family with personality and habitats that she must continually learn.

“Nature is the ultimate teacher. The respect that we have for the land is immense, and without it we wouldn’t have the life that we do,” she said, channeling Wendell Berry, a hero of hers.

The young people I spoke with noted that urban residents frequently assume that ranching and agriculture must be destructive activities, and that they underestimate the amount of thought and care that goes into working the land. The 6 Ranch brings its Portland customers to the ranch occasionally, and they often go home in surprise.

“A lot of times they’re genuinely surprised [by] how much thought goes into everything we do. We’re not just out here randomly poking around, and hopefully we get a cow out of it,” said Adele.

Buck started running cattle of his own so his children could grow up caring for animals, managing lands and learning a lifestyle. Tending to the land means leaving it better for his children so they can continue ranching.

“We care more about these animals and taking care of the property than they ever will, as far as I’m concerned,” said Buck, speaking about the opinions city dwellers often hold of ranchers.

“We want our kids to be able to enjoy it, and the next generation.”

After following Jeremy’s advice about paying attention to the people and not just the scenery, my eyes have been opened not just to the people here but their compassion and respect for the land and what they produce from it.

“People often don’t respect the thoughtfulness with which people work on the land in a community like this,” Julia told me in a patient yet passionate voice. “Coming from a city, it’s easy to assume that all ranchers are out there grazing their cattle and messing up the land and same with all people who are cutting timber, but I think that it’s important to get people out on the land and talking to people with different backgrounds than them and understanding that that’s not what these people are trying to do.”

A Balanced View A few miles outside the town of Enterprise, there is little more than alfalfa fields and cows. Biking through this landscape one day, I saw a brown monstrosity rising out of the green fields. As I got closer, I discovered that it was a log cabin-style mansion, with no exterior decoration other than a “for sale” sign. The house represents a puzzle for the county.

The migrants who are attracted to the area by its beauty are an economic boon for the county, but they can change the face of the land and the character of the community.

“As the recreation and tourist economy grows here, the need

to protect that landscape becomes even more significant for the community because it becomes an economic driver,” said Julia.

Few people here want to see the iconic glacial moraines flanking Wallowa Lake changed. When residential development pressures began to increase and the moraines appeared at risk, the Wallowa Land Trust was formed to protect them. In many other areas, turning a threatened landscape into a park or reserve might be the solution, but that idea is not popular in Wallowa County where the U.S. Forest Service already owns 56 percent of the land.

“People don’t want to see land go to the government because then it’s not a part of their community anymore and there’s not local control and there’s not the same kind of access,” Julia explained. “I think we have the opportunity to look at other unique models for conservation and land protection because we know that in reality the community doesn’t want to see that land become totally public.”

Much the resistance surrounding development comes from the fact that it often changes the character of places. Some open spaces get houses built on them while others are put off limits to anyone other than hikers. In Wallowa County, the ideas young people have about managing the land will help ensure that working the land and caring for it continue to be one in the same.

Looking Ahead Wallowa County is not willing to compromise its old and important traditions to transform into something completely different. Being uncompromising can be difficult, though.

Adele explains the puzzle.

“I think agriculture should always remain really important, but we need something [else]. I don’t honestly know what that is for sure. We can’t survive on tourism,” she said.

Tourism driven solely by the stunning landscape leaves many of Wallowa County’s people and livelihoods out of the picture. A holistic vision of Wallowa County that blends

wilderness, agricultural land and diverse people is required if the county is to prosper economically without losing its identity.

“For this community to remain rural, agriculture needs to be at the center of its economy and young people need to be leaders in agriculture and be willing to try new crops, try more sustainable agriculture, try doing more value-added products,” said Julia.

Adele would never call anywhere other than Wallowa County home, but she believes that young people can learn a lot from leaving and can bring back a lot when they return.

“I would like to see young people take on the role and responsibility of re-energizing Wallowa County. A lot of that comes from coming back on purpose, and taking what you’ve learned wherever you’ve been and bringing it back here. There just has to be a love for it enough to turn it back around,” said Adele.

Here in this place, rich with stunning views and vital natural resources, and filled with diverse and thoughtful people, the challenge is not so much finding the right resources and ideas, but finding how to balance them. Wallowa County can avoid becoming an overdeveloped symbol of the New West without falling into the poverty that plagues Old West towns where natural resources have dried up. Finding the key commonalities will keep old traditions alive alongside new people and economies in the beautiful Wallowa country.

“We want to be small, productive and successful. I think that’s actually a shared goal between those that want to preserve nature and those that want to preserve traditions,” said Jeremy.

I hope to return to Wallowa County. After seeing it through the eyes of its young people, I envision myself driving into the valley some spring down the road and being just as captivated by the tall mountains and winding rivers.

Yet, I trust that I will focus just as much on the communities at the base of the mountains, where old traditions thrive and new ideas, economies and people prosper.

TheCircuit | 23

Class ‘Encounters’ of the Different Kind

by Karah Kemmerly

FIRST ENCOUNTERS The first ‘Freshman Studies’ course was invented in 1945 at Lawrence University.

Whitman’s 2011-12 first-year seminar class, ‘Encounters,’ included these readings: HEART OF DARKNESS Joseph Conrad THE ODYSSEY Homer BELOVED Toni Morrison MAUS Art Spiegelman SELECTIONS BY & FROM Karl Marx Mohandas Ghandi The Bible The Qur’an The Tanakh The Bhagavad Gita

24 | TheCircuit

W

hen Jordan Conneely began her first year of college, she signed up to take a yearlong first-year seminar class.

In this mandatory course, Conneely and her peers discussed texts from several different disciplines in a small class setting and worked to improve their writing abilities. Although this sounds suspiciously like the Whitman class known as Encounters, which Whitman firstyears will soon refer to as “Transformations,” Conneely is not a Whitman student. She is actually a rising sophomore at University of California-Merced.

In Conneely’s first-year seminar, which is referred to as CORE, classes of no more than 20 first-years read works ranging from the Mayan “Popul Vuh” to Stephen Hawking to an article about the jellyfish of Palau. Similar to those taking Whitman’s Encounters seminar, students in Merced’s CORE aim to create links between seemingly unrelated texts.

“We wrote papers, which . . . taught us an overall understanding of how knowledge of one subject is interconnected with that of all others,” said Conneely.

However, many liberal arts colleges take a slightly different approach to their first-year seminar courses. Several schools require their first-years to take a seminar concurrently, but not all seminar sections read the same texts at the same time. Rather, they are given a list of a few dozen seminar topics to choose from, and students pick the section that sounds most interesting or relevant to them.

Grinnell College in Grinnell, Iowa, a school with roughly 1600 students, offers topics in several different subject areas for their seminar class called “Tutorial.” Grinnell alumna Sara Kittleson ‘12 signed up for a seminar course her first year titled “The Trouble with Love in German Literature” because she had visited the professor’s

class as a prospective student and really enjoyed it.

“Most people just pick something that sounds interesting,” she said.

Other topic choices included the Russian Revolution, U.S. Immigration Policy and the Sistine Chapel.

Wheaton College alumna Sally Dexter ‘12 was also able to select a seminar topic. Students at Wheaton list their top five seminar topic choices and the registrar works to try and grant them their top choice. Dexter said that most students get their first choice. Her section was called “Fit for a Queen: Fashion of the Formidable” and it allowed students to consider the ways in which powerful figures in history used their appearance to create their public image. She liked seeing students with different backgrounds come together because of their interest in a topic.

“It brought together a really diverse group of people who were interested in the topic for a lot of different reasons, and it was great to hear so many diverse opinions,” she said.

Dexter also enjoyed having varied discussions with her friends in other seminars.

“It was fun to hear about all the different seminars and even as a senior to talk with my friends about all of the different things we did in them.”

However, she also saw a certain drawback to being able to choose her seminar theme. She experienced some frustration with her lack of knowledge before selecting her section.

“We chose seminars without any advising guidance . . . and it didn’t occur to me to see what department each professor came from, because the course would obviously have that disciplinary slant on it,” she said.

Anne Gaskins, a Whitman junior who was previously a Student Academic Advisor (SA), does not feel that she missed out by not having a seminar theme. Rather, she feels that having all

“Acad likely to o

first-years read the same texts allows for even more discussion among friends.

“One of my favorite moments from [my first] year was when I helped a section-mate with a presentation that she had to do and we had a fantastic discussion about St. Augustine’s Confessions completely spontaneously. It was a great way to connect with people,” she said.

Senior Lecturer of Environmental Humanities and General Studies Don Snow agrees.

“The original theory behind the common syllabus was, of course, that students would continue the classroom discussions with others outside of their

“One of the great things about designing our own courses . . . is that we can choose texts we know and enjoy.

Obviously, it’s easier to teach such texts with greater alacrity. That’s not the case in Encounters.”

However, Snow also feels that these inconsistencies are true to what liberal arts means.

“Academic learning is not like television. It cannot pivot merely upon what [you] like. Growth is most likely to occur when you honestly greet what you don’t like,” he said.

Gaskins also cites inconsistencies among teaching styles and workloads in each section as a drawback.

Encounters theme and book list regularly so that all students can read the same texts and still be more focused.

“This would create a greater coherence to the whole curriculum that is currently somewhat lacking. This also maintains the liberal-arts ideal, that everyone in the incoming class should be excited about learning and interested in whatever topic it is.”

Some students at other colleges feel that even taking a first-year seminar isn’t necessary. Amandine Lee, a senior at Swarthmore College in Pennsylvania, also took a themed first-year seminar.

Each first-year seminar course at Swarthmore has twelve students in it,

emic learning is not like television...Growth is most ccur when you honestly greet what you don’t like.” own sections, over meals, in the dorms,” he said.

Gaskins also believes that professors’ ability to draw on texts that are familiar to all students is useful in higher-level courses. Additionally, having read the same books as the first-years in her section made her experience as an SA much easier.

“I think reading the same texts definitely contributed to a [sense of] community. Even the fact that I had read the same books as [other students] were reading made it easier for me to connect with them, because I could discuss their ideas from a perspective of familiarity with the texts,” she said.

On the other hand, Snow addresses the difficulties professors in different departments face when using the same syllabus.

“Some sort of standardization in how the professors actually teach the class, not just what they teach, might make the discrepancy a little less noticeable,” she said.

Rising junior Luke Rodriguez also believes that the structure of Encounters could be improved. Particularly, he feels that reading a survey of texts only allows students to read texts superficially.

“I wish that the philosophy were different. Instead of trying to be a survey course of critical thinking that tries to introduce students to a whole range of topics that inevitably glosses over most of them in a superficial way, it should focus in on a particular discipline, time, or subject,” he said.

He doesn’t feel that the solution is choosing a seminar topic, however.

Instead, he suggests changing the

don snow Senior Lecturer of Environmental Studies and General Studies

and students are allowed to take more than one seminar course. Lee chose the class theme “Infectious Diseases,” and although she was interested in the topic, she wasn’t entirely pleased with the way the course was structured.

“For a little class of only freshman, we had the potential of getting to do something really self directed and challenging and cool, and it ended up being a survey of like ten major infectious diseases,” she said.

She also felt that the workload in her seminar wasn’t difficult enough to prepare her for other college courses.

“I had high school classes that prepared me better for my workload,” Lee said.

TheCircuit | 25

First-Year Studies

S

everal colleges and universities don’t require students to take an academic firstyear seminar course and instead opt for courses that are more like an extension of orientation.

Ian Crane, a junior at Point Loma Nazarene University didn’t take an academic firstyear seminar course. Instead, he took a required course called Psychology of Personal Development, which gave students the opportunity to hone their study skills and leadership styles rather than to read and discuss a survey of texts.

However, Crane didn’t feel that this course contributed greatly to his academic career.

“It was useful insofar as using it to meet other people.

But it wasn’t significant to my academic studies,” he said.

Additionally, Crane doesn’t believe that he missed out by not having a discussion-based seminar class.

“It was fine. There are intro courses that a lot of students here

end up taking, and they read a lot of the same books in those, so I don’t see why it’s necessary [to have a seminar class]. The more you choose classes based on what you’re interested in, the more beneficial they are.”

Despite the differences in their classes, many students who took a first-year seminar claimed to have developed close relationships with their professors. At Grinnell, for example, seminar professors are their first-year seminar students’ pre-major advisers.

According to Kittleson, this system allowed her to create lasting ties with her professor.

“I think that’s a wonderful system because it forces you to get to know your advisor. Even after I declared I would go back to my tutorial professor for advice all the time,” she said.

Although Gaskins’s Whitman Encounters professor wasn’t her advisor, she still felt that their relationship was close.

“The best aspect of Encounters for me was the opportunity to work with the same people and professor for

an entire school year. That’s a rare opportunity with college classes, and I think it made class discussions less intimidating.”

Conneely also especially enjoyed developing a connection with her CORE professor.

“Her passion exemplified the goals of the class and made attending discussion worth waking up. She wrote letters of recommendation for me for studying abroad and we still communicate,” she said.

Regardless of whether or not students chose their seminar topics or developed close relationships with their professors, they seemed to agree that focusing on improving their writing was a major part of their first-year seminars.

“The best parts of tutorial were having a space to ask stupid first-year questions, discussing the books, and learning to write.

Nobody liked having grammar lessons or talking about how to structure a paper, but peerreviewing and rewriting the short essays we wrote was really helpful and my writing improved a lot,” said Kittleson.

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26 | TheCircuit

A Pa i n t e d Sh i p U p o n a Pa i n t e d Oc e a n a f e rr y r i d e i n t h e l i f e o f a n i s l a n d e r ha l l ey

mcc o rmic k

TheCircuit | 27

To get home, I travel by ferry through Washingtonâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s San Juan Islands. On one of these trips home, a man sitting on the ferry bench politely declined my request to take his picture, but a few minutes later, he got up and joined me at my seat, eyeing my Whitman sweatshirt. He asked me if I went to Whitman College. He said that he grew up in the San Juan Islands and graduated from Whitman in 1960. We chatted for a few minutes, comparing our campus jobs and changes in tuition, then we went our separate ways. Although he never did let me take his picture, I got to share a ferry ride with a man who, half a century before me, spent his childhood in my backyard and walked the halls of my future alma mater. This chance meeting inspired a different look at familiar scenes and left me with a sense of timelessness.

28 | TheCircuit

TheCircuit | 29

Jackson Hole, Wyoming

Under the Surface Domestic violence cuts across class lines

by Lian Caspi

“D

o m e s t i c violence in Jackson Hole?

Is that even an issue?”

This was the inevitable question I received while describing my summer work.

At an internship working with abuse victims in the wealthiest county in the nation, I expected an abused

30 | TheCircuit

population disproportionally representative of the large Latino minority and the few women of low socioeconomic status.

Where does abuse fit in stereotypical “average American families,” let alone in rich, gear-crazy, outdoorsy families?

I arrived at Community Safety Network in Jackson,

Wyo. expecting to use my Spanish to work with the large Mexican population that resides in the valley. I thought the majority of my time would be spent helping with outreach and prevention work, simply for lack of abuse in this utopic summer vacation destination.

I met Jill* in my second week. A beautiful, middle-

aged woman, Jill was a medical professional and mother of two tall and athletic adolescent daughters. She was socially aware and spoke intelligently.

Jill described to me the intensive abuse that her husband inflicted upon her: his threats to burn her to death after what seemed like a preview, when he lit her hair on fire. She lived in constant fear of her husband’s rage and control.

She was a white, middle class (until her husband took hold of the family’s finances), educated woman. She was “normal.”

At an Advocate Training a week later, we were completing introductions when it came to be Kelly’s* turn. She began to speak: “My name is Kelly. I am a fashion designer, and used to own a restaurant. I have two sons that have started their own families now. Although I left the relationship eight years ago, I am still a victim of the abuse that my ex-husband inflicted upon me for our 10 year marriage.” The words of this beautifully dressed and well-presented woman caused quite a bit of discomfort in the room. A well-off advocate, just like everyone else in the room, was a victim of abuse? Kelly prompted me to reconsider which populations are affected by abuse and the nature of domestic violence more broadly.

Stereotypes of abuse depict low-income women, beaten by drunk, constructionworking husbands, or newlymigrated Latina women abused by machismo boyfriends. Even my experience working on a suicide prevention hotline and studying abuse in the past didn’t

fully eradicate this perception of abuse that most of us hold.

This toxic misconception, that abuse is limited to one particular population, has permeated our society. Besides encouraging prejudiced categorization, this stereotype allows us to ignore the victims of abuse who most need help. Victims who do not fit our image of abuse feel even more alone and guilty, as they believe that nobody like them suffers from abuse. This misconception prevents the understanding that abuse and assault are pervasive.

Both Jill and Kelly made me look beyond stereotypes and identify abuse wherever it exists.

I finally understood that abuse can affect anybody: the woman sitting next to me on the bus, a co-worker at my waitressing job, or the woman purchasing a $300 coat from Nordstrom.

Why does this illusion persist?

With nearly 2000 domestic violence programs (shelters and services) in the United States and over 30,000 advocates trained to speak about and prevent abuse, why does our society continue to be blinded by the stereotypical notion of the abused woman?

First, we often define abuse insufficiently. Abuse is not just physical violence. Abuse is intimidation, name calling or creating isolation. Emotional abuse can be far worse than physical. I’ve heard many survivors say, “The bruises fade, but the emotional abuse creates an endless struggle.” Although it’s hard to imagine a wealthy and well-respected husband beating his wife, we may be able to better understand abuse within

this population by looking at emotional factors. Recognizing emotional abuse as a major part of domestic violence allows us to understand abused populations more thoroughly.

Second, given the opportunity, we’re prone to distance ourselves from horrible situations. If we convince ourselves that these misfortunes only affect those who seem different from us, we allow ourselves to ignore the ways something such as domestic violence exists throughout all populations.

My work with domestic violence victims at the Community Safety Network has changed my perception of differences among people.

Providing an unbiased attitude and equal opportunities for every person who has suffered from domestic violence is empowering, and gives the victim exactly what they have been lacking in their abusive relationship: control over their life. I’ve learned that victims need support, confidence, trust and advocacy.

We must be willing to identify and deal with abuse that occurs to people who look and speak just like we do, even if that means seeing it in a fellow Whitman student. Even at Whitman, abusive relationships exist, as do students who come from families where abuse is present.

Abuse happens in every place, to every kind of person. In order to help those affected by abuse, we must be open to eradicating our stereotypes of the abused woman. *Name has been changed for confidentiality.

TheCircuit | 31

Eating Cheap in

Walla Walla by

Grocery stores

W

alla Walla has a few major places to buy food, and sadly, they get better the further you get from campus. Super 1 Foods (710 S 9th Ave) is a good all-around store with a huge bulk section, plenty of natural and organic foods and relatively cheap produce.

It’s probably your best bet for general shopping needs if you have access to a car. There’s also a Grocery Outlet on the same block (910 S 9th Ave), which is a good first stop where you can often find greatly discounted items.

T

Rachel Alexander

safeway

he only real grocery store within walking distance of campus is Safeway (215 E Rose St). While often a bit pricier than other stores, Safeway is a good bet if you know how to shop (and often a necessity for last-minute items). I worked at the Walla Walla Safeway for two years and picked up a few tricks for saving money during my time there: • Get a Club Card—any cashier can give you one.

It’s free, and you don’t have to provide any personal information. It’s the only way to get sale prices, and you’ll get coupons on stuff you buy the most.

Andy’s Market over in College Place (1117 S College Ave), like Super 1, has cheap produce, a great bulk selection and is well worth the trip if you need to buy spices (sold • Shop with a list. Buy what you actually need, and don’t go in bulk containers at for something just a fraction the price because it’s on sale. for normal groAs a growing wine tourism destination, cery stores). Andy's • Check the sales fliWalla Walla is known for its many fine ers, available inside is run by Seventh the store entrance Day Adventists, restaurants. That’s all well and good for (sales change every which means that Wednesday; new it's closed on Saturwhen your parents are in town, but what days, but also that ads are out on Tuesday). Grab any couthey have a ton of about when you’re broke and need to pons for stuff you’re awesome vegetarfind something tasty? Don’t worry—The ian options. The buying, and stock College Place Walup on any deepPioneer has you covered. Here are some ly discounted items.

Mart is another grocery option for tips for eating cheap in Walla Walla.

• Some items go on those with vehicles. sale on a regular While not technically a grocery store, the Walla Wal- schedule, and some will periodically be deeply discounted if la Farmer’s Market is a good option if you use it well. you buy a lot of them (usually 4+). Pay attention to these cyIt takes place every Saturday and Sunday from 9 a.m. to cles—often every 3-4 weeks—and stock up when stuff is cheap.

1 p.m. on 4th and Main, and runs through October. Produce is sometimes cheaper here than in stores, because • Be aware of price tag trickery, and read the fine print. Safeyou’re buying directly from the farmer. If you stick to ba- way often puts the shelf price as 2/$5.00 to get you to buy two sics—onions, apples, spinach—and avoid higher-end veg- of something, but each individual item is still only $2.50—you gies, you can save money while enjoying the ambiance. don’t need to buy the indicated number to get the sale price.

32 | TheCircuit

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• Use manufacturer’s coupons. Grab a Sunday copy of the Walla Walla Union-Bulletin (you can pick one up for free in the Reid Campus Center basement near the Post Office). It’s full of ads which come with clip out coupons. It’s really easy to save on name-brand products this way.

2 0 1 2 - 2 0 1 3

• Unless it’s cheaper not to, buy generic brands. Safeway makes its own versions of just about everything, and they’re usually indistinguishable from the name brands (with some exceptions, like on snack foods).

I NSTA N T PL AY FEST I VA L

Eating out

N O I SES OFF

Your best bet for a good, cheap meal downtown is the Sweet Basil Pizzeria (5 S 1st Ave). Though not advertised, they have a student discount—you can get two slices for $4; show your ID and ask for it.

Also make sure to pick up up a punch card. Other good downtown options are The Garden (36 S Colville St), a vegan café, and Graze (5 S Colville St), a sandwich shop. Entrees run around $8-10 at both places.

SEPTEMBER 22-23

BY MICHAEL FR AYN

OCTOBER 18-21

SHOOT I N G S I M O N E

BY LYNNE K AUFMAN

NOVEMBER 7-11

Walla Walla is also known for its taquerias, which provide high-quality Mexican food. Popular ones include Taqueria Yungapeti (320 S 9th Ave, a drive) and Berny’s (1633 E Isaacs Ave, a 15-minute walk). Meals typically run $5-7.

C A M I N O RE A L

Free food

O N E AC T PL AY CO N T EST

It’s pretty easy to get free food on a college campus. If you’re on a meal plan, the dining halls will pretty much have you covered, but if you’re still in need of something to eat, here are some tips: Go to club meetings. Many clubs offer pizza at the beginning of the semester when they’re trying to lure new members in.

Show up to something you’re interested in and have some dinner.

Take advantage of meal plan guest swipes and Flex dollars. If you’re on a plan, make sure you use them well. If you’re not, bum some free food off of your underclassmen friends. Also, hang out with people who live in Tamarac. Many of them are on Meal Plan T (available exclusively to Tamarac residents), which consists of $1100 Flex dollars—more than most people can spend.

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DECEMBER 6-9

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FEBRUARY 27 - MARCH 3

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BY A ARON BUSHKOWSKY

APRIL 10-14

FLOY D COL L I N S MUSIC AND LYRICS BY ADAM GUET TEL, BOOK AND ADDITIONAL LYRICS BY TINA L ANDAU

MAY 2-5, 16-18

Read emails on the students’ listserv. The college hosts all kinds of events where food is present, including lunches with the administration and dinner with visiting speakers.

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BOX OFFICE PHONE: (509) 527-5180 HT TP:// W W W.WHITMAN.EDU / THEATRE/ W H I T M A N C O L L E G E W A L L A W A L L A W A

TheCircuit | 33

The Circuit Guide to Walla Walla Restaurants Rt. 12

6

7

ve Isaacs A

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e St

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9th Ave

1 Mama Mia’s Pasta On The Go 203 Wildwood St Tue-Sat 11 a.m.-8 p.m.

2 Andrae’s Kitchen $$ Mobile food truck Daily: 6 a.m.-6 p.m.

3 Iceburg $$ 616 W Birch St Summer hours, daily: 11 a.m.-10 p.m.

Hamburgers, fries and old-fashioned milkshakes 4 Blue Palm $ 1417 Plaza Way Suite C Sun-Fri 10 a.m.-10 p.m., Sat 7 p.m.-10 p.m.

Self serve frozen yogurt:10 flavors, 50+ toppings 5 South Fork Grill $$$ 1129 S 2nd, Suite D Tue-Sun 11 a.m.- 9 p.m.

Happy hour mid-day food prices from 2-5 p.m.

6 Phoumy’s $ 1528 Issacs Ave Mon-Thus 11:00 a.m.-9:00 p.m., Fri/Sat 11:00 a.m.10:00 p.m., Sun Noon-9:00 p.m.

Authentic Thai cuisine. Chef Phoumy cooked at theThai Embassy in Laos for 25 years!

T. Maccarones $/$$ 4 N Colville Sun-Thu 4 p.m.-9 p.m., Fri/Sat 4 p.m.-10 p.m.

Modern, American bistro influenced by classic Italian sensibilities

34 | TheCircuit

Howard St

1

e Av

3

5

4

7 La Ramada $ 1708 E Issacs St Daily: 10 a.m-9 p.m.

The real taste of Mexico 8 The Marc Restaurant $$$ 6 W Rose St Daily at 5:30 p.m.

Innovative twists on Pacific Northwest Cuisine 9 Frosted $ 7 1st Ave Mon-Thu,10 a.m.-7 p.m., Fri-Sat 10 a.m.-8 p.m.

Cupcakes, cakes, macaroons and cake pops. Vegan, gluten free and sugar free (pre-order only) 10 Peach and Pear $ 15 S 1st Ave Tue-Sun Noon-8 p.m.

Frozen yogurt with fruit or crunchy toppings, loose leaf tea, Stonewall kitchen 11 GRAZE: a place to eat $ 5 South Colville Mon-Sat 10 a.m.-7:30 p.m., Sun 10 a.m.-3:30 p.m.

3 GRAZE: a drive thru $ 213 South 9th Avenue Daily: 7 a.m. - 3:30 p.m.

Gourmet sandwiches, salads and daily soups

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12 The Garden $ 36 S Colville Sun/Mon 11 a.m. -6 p.m., Tue-Thu 11 a.m. -7 p.m., Fri/ Sat 11a.m.-8 p.m.

13 Colville Street Patisserie $ 40 S Colville C o lv i l l e Fri/Sat S t r e e9 t a.m.-10 p.m., Mon-Thu 9 a.m.-8 p.m., Sun 9 a.m.-5 p.m.

Handmade French pastries, housemade gelato, some gluten-free treats, espresso 14 Maple Counter $$ 209 E Alder Tue-Sun: 7 a.m.-3 p.m.

209 E Alder Gourmet breakfast and handcrafted lunch.

Serving breakfast all day!

15 A Wing and A Prayer $$ 201 E Main Mon, Wed, Thu, 11 a.m.-8 p.m. Fri & Sat 11 a.m.-9 B A R11 B Ea.m.-3 C U E +p.m..

C A N TClosed E E N Tue. p.m., Sun Quality barbecue at student-friendly prices.Vegetarian options 16 Red Reina Cuisine and Delicatessen $$ 202 E Main Tue-Sat 11 a.m.-7 p.m., Sun 11 a.m.-Close Full service deli. Local, seasonal Northwest-based ingredients make fresh, delicious Mediterraneaninspired food

17 Walla Walla Bread Co. $$ 225 E Main Mon-Fri 7 a.m.-5 p.m., Sat 8 a.m. -3 p.m., Sun 9 a.m.-2 p.m.

18 Backstage Bistro $$ 230 E Main Mon-Fri 11 a.m.-2 p.m. & 5 p.m.-9 p.m Sat 12 p.m.-3 p.m. & 5 p.m.-close, Sun 5 p.m.- 8 p.m.

Serving seafood, pasta, and bbq for lunch and dinner; features a wide selection of wines and a full bar 19 Mill Creek Brewpub $ 11 S Palouse Mon-Sat 11 a.m.-11 p.m., Sun Noon-9 p.m.

20 Salumiere Cesario $$ 12 E Main Gourmet grocery, sandwiches, the only walk-in cheese closet in the Pacific Northwest Mon-Sat: 11 a.m. - 6 p.m. Sun: 11 a.m. - 4 p.m.

21 Bacon and Eggs $$ 503 E Main Daily 8 a.m.-2 p.m., closed Wed Vegan, vegetarian and carnivore breakfast options made from scratch daily Olive Marketplace & CafĂŠ $ 21 E Main Daily 8 a.m.-9 p.m.

Now offering a 10% student discount with a valid student ID!

TheCircuit | 35

First-year Advice from Molly Emmett, Rising Sophomore

C

lass of 2016: Welcome to Whitman!

There’s no doubt that this is a very exciting time for you. It’s a time for independence and a time for self-discovery, but sometimes, a little advice from someone who has been there before can help. After all, they say hindsight is 20/20. So think of these more as hints: things you can do, not that you must do. After all, you’re out of the house, right? And if you don’t follow my guidelines, I promise you won’t have to do any chores. Just keep them in your back pocket for safekeeping.

Do visit professors’ office hours. It may seem scary or pointless, but some professors expect you to write about certain topics in certain ways that may only become clear through a one-on-one meeting. Ask upperclassmen who have had the professor in the past to see if they recommend the visit.

Do volunteer. There’s no denying that Whitman is a privileged school, and sometimes it’s easy to forget that. But there are parts of Walla Walla that would love some help. Stop by the Student Engagement Center or check out the Community Service website to figure out where you might be interested in lending a hand.

Don’t miss an opportunity to do something crazy. A few weeks before finals started last spring, Walla Walla had several days of evening spring storms, and the way the sky lit up from the lightning was breathtaking. People came out of the library and the dorms just to stand and watch—and, for a few, to streak—even when it started raining hard. Sometimes you have to take a five minute study break, or else you’ll miss those moments.

Don’t be afraid to remove yourself from listervs. If at some point you lose interest and don’t want to keep receiving emails from them, you can send a blank email to listservname-unsubscribe@lists.whitman.edu. Then maybe you’ll have less than 39 emails a day!

36 | TheCircuit

Do dress up if you get the chance.

When you and your friends show up to a themed event in the Justice League costumes you spent an hour putting together, Whitties will definitely be impressed.

Do get tickets early for WEB concerts, theater productions, etc. If you really want to go to a performance, don’t be caught in line the day before when everything is sold out. Whitman is a small school, but there are usually more people who want to see a show than there are free tickets available.

Don’t get too distracted by Facebook, Twitter, or even sites like Whitman Encounters (whitmanencounters.com— check it out and you’ll see what I mean soon enough). A lot of students limit themselves to only checking the sites once a day or even deleting their account during busy times in the semester like finals week.

Don’t forget to call your parents, at least on holidays. Chances are they helped you get where you are in some capacity or another, and I’ve heard they appreciate knowing you’re still alive, or even that you’re really enjoying yourself!

Weird, huh?

Do go downtown. Now, for those of us who come from big cities, Walla Walla’s Main Street and its three block perimeter do not constitute downtown.

But it has a quaint small town appeal and you’ll be sorry if you only discover Brights or Sweet Basil during Camp Whitman.

Don’t judge anyone too quickly. No one likes to admit it, but a lot of us judge new people without even realizing we’re doing it. Instead, challenge yourself to say hi to the person you think is your complete opposite. Whitties are pretty cool across the board, and your first year is the best time to make all the friends you can.

Do get to know your resident advisor (RA) and student academic advisor (SA). They are great, well-qualified people who can make your transition into college that much easier.

Do join as many intramural teams as you can fit into your schedule. You may find that you’ve got a knack for flag-pulling or dodging balls, and even if you don’t, you can still come up with a euphemistic name for your section’s mini-golf team.

Do take a breather sometimes. It’s tempting to overbook yourself with so much freedom and opportunity, and most Whitties do. But remember that staying in some nights and catching up on your favorite TV show or a new book is just as important to the college experience. A good balance of energy spent and saved will make your first-year absolutely kick-ass!

Summer Movie Recap by

Nathan Fisher

T

his summer, movies were my great escape from working a zillion hours at two minimum-wage jobs lifeguarding and scooping balls at the golf-driving range. Thankfully, this summer was filled with great flicks. Here’s my arbitrary grouping of movies that I saw this summer— enjoy!

Risqué (Shakin’ your junk!)

My sixteen-year old sister dragged me to watch Channing Tatum strip and strut his stuff in “Magic Mike,” based loosely on his pre-acting gyrations. Old Tater-Tot might not be able to act, but boy can he “move.” Steven Soderbergh brilliantly directs and teases out a great performance from Mathew McConaughey, an aged sleaze-bucket stripper who isn’t afraid to bust a move. Next up, “Rock of Ages” was a bit disappointing, but Tom Cruise stole the show. Cruise, living up to the potential he showed in “Risky Business,” plays a drunken rock-and-roll star who can actually sing! Like McConaughey, Cruise was not afraid to show off his bare ass. Rounding out the risqué category is “Ted.” Surprisingly, I found Seth MacFarlane’s cursing, pot-smoking, cash-register-humping teddy bear hysterical.

Indie (Old fart quirkies) I was the youngest in the theater by at least 20 years when I went to the only independent theater in Tacoma to see the next two movies. First was “The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel,” sporting a wonderful group of classic older English actors. The humor, the scenery and great acting made this simple movie about a group of retirees moving to India one of my favorite movies of the summer. Next up at the retirement home theater was “Bernie,” with Jack Black playing a funeral director/mortician who also happens to be a murderer.

Shirley Maclaine plays a verbally abusive widow, and Matthew McConaughey sheds

his thong to play a dim-witted sheriff. The plot is strange, but the chemistry of the actors is a joy to watch, and nothing matches Black belting out a church hymn.

Sci-Fi (Die, humans, die) This summer brought the much-anticipated “Prometheus,” Ridley Scott’s prequel to “Alien.” While visually stunning, I walked out of the theater without remembering a single human character’s name because they were all forgettable. I kept hoping Sigourney Weaver would fly in to save the show—didn’t happen. “Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter” was equally disappointing. Not going to lie, I was really looking forward to this as a mindless, bloody, “I can’t believe I’m watching Honest Abe slay vampires” kind of movie. But by trying to take this silly and goofy premise too seriously, the movie floundered and squelched my patriotic bloody-violent hopes.

Kids (Sloths, Bears, & Dead Horses) I can’t believe I’m saying this, but “Ice Age: Continental Drift”, the fourth installment in the franchise, made me chuckle.

It’s obviously just another squeeze for more money, but Sid the Sloth (John Leguizamo) and his grandma (the hysterical Wanda Sykes) used clever wordplay to bring laughs to what I thought was going to be a serious beating of a dead horse. Maybe I expected too much, but Pixar’s “Brave” was a disappointment. Visually, the movie was spectacular, but the storyline fell short of Pixar’s usual. In fact, my favorite characters were the bears, who did not speak.

Sequels & Reboots (Keep the Money Coming) At least 15 summer movies fall under this category, and surprisingly most were better than I expected . . . most, that is. After a ten-year hiatus, Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones are back in “Men in Black III.” After such a long absence, I was hoping for a better movie. On the other end of the spectrum, I was hesitant going into the newest reboot of the Spider-Man franchise, because not enough time had passed since Tobey Maguire was crawling up walls. But, I was pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed the newest installment of “The Amazing Spider-Man.” Although Andrew Garfield was a great Spidey, he looked more like a graduate student than a high-schooler, but I enjoyed the new scrawny kid take on Spider-Man! The Movie Hermit’s 2012 Summer faves Hands down, the final Batman movie, “The Dark Knight Rises,” blew me away.

Maybe it was because a group of Whitties met in Tukwila to see all three Batman movies culminating with the midnight showing on IMAX, but nonetheless, Christopher Nolan nailed everything.

The runner-up, and the biggest summer surprise, was the hysterical and quirky “Moonrise Kingdom,” a movie about misfits, young love, and the outdoors. The kids rule, with a little help from Bruce Willis and Bill Murray. All in all, the summer releases were a treat and you should head to theater before we need to crack open the books!

TheCircuit | 37

COMIC by Julie Peterson

PERSONALITY QUIZ

by Elena Aragon

What coffee shop drink are you?

1. What is your favorite article of clothing? a. Jeans year-round, baby b. Booty shorts c. Bro tank d. Flip flops 2. What activity would you most likely be engaging in if you were in a park? a. Frisbee b. Laying in the grass c. Running around d. Playing on the playground 3. Which Katy Perry song best represents YOLO? a. I’m not really down with this silly acronym b. “T.G.I.F,” I mean, duh c.”Hot and Cold,” you only live once, so screw homeostasis d. Eww Katy Perry 4. What landmark do you most enjoy on campus? a. Styx b. The birdbath c. Ankeny—all of it d. The lemon-fish statue 5. Which fruit do you prefer? a. Strawberry b. Peach c. Pear d. Starfruit

Black coffee. You stick to the standard, tried and true ways. This is not to say that you are not bold. Courage and outspokenness are two of your greatest strengths. However, your attempt to not deviate from the norm when making decisions can lead to less than exciting outcomes.

38 | TheCircuit

Mostly B’s

Italian soda. Light and bubbly, you are surprisingly decaffeinated. That’s right, sugar is your drug and keeps you moving all day long. Colorful and bright, you can also become easily down and are prone to crash at any moment.

Your youthfulness, sometimes mistaken for immaturity, is instead pure and true spirit.

Mostly C’s

Espresso. An intense personality, you can be a lot to handle. While some people think you get in their faces, in reality you are just very enthusiastic. Your high energy is pretty much constant, but peaks in the morning. You are usually awake before anyone else you know.

Mostly D’s

Soy latte. You lead an alternative lifestyle, whether you are a vegan or merely a hipster.

You are conscious of environmental problems, but at times can be a bit too nitpicky. At your best, you are a catalyst for social change; at your worst you are (dare I say it?) pretentious.

Answers

Mostly A’s

HOROSCOPES

by Elena Aragon

Aries March 21- april 20 You will finally learn that it takes a whopping nine minutes to reach Olin Hall from the dreaded SoBo, after being late to class every day the first week.

Gemini april 21 - may 21 It will take all of your willpower next weekend to not stare when you encounter someone dancing at a party like Elaine from Seinfeld.

Cancer may 22 - june 22 You will encounter possibly the most frightening beast on campus next weekend as you walk down Isaacs Street, the estranged opossum.

Leo june 23 - july 22 You realize that Whitman alumni job connections are a bit unhelpful, as you don’t live in Seattle or Portland.

Taurus july 23 - august 22 Victory will be yours next week when you manage to get your load through the Jewett laundry room in under four hours.

Libra september 24 - october 23 You will encounter the same duck four times in one night crossing through campus, and yes, you will know it is the same duck each time.

Scorpio october 24 - november 22 You will become suddenly addicted to the caprese sandwiches at Reid, feeling a strange connection to the fresh mozzarella.

Sagittarius November 23 - december 21 Delight will be yours when the T-Tones personally serenade you after you take a bit of a spill, tripping on a shoelace right in front of the science building.

Capricorn december 22 - january 20 One of the comfy love sacs in the library will call your name one night, and the librarian will call your name the next morning after you fall asleep all night.

Aquarius 21 january - 19 february You will face the challenge of having 8 o’clocks this semester, causing such panic that the first week you ask yourself if you want to change majors.

Pisces 20 february - 20 march One of your bike tires will be inexplicably painted pink one morning, orange the next, and return to its original state three days later.

VIRGO

AUGUST 23 - SEPTEMBER 23

Your life will be forever changed when you meet the love of your life, also known as Rhonda the Omelet Lady, at brunch. credits Front and back cover: Photo by Rachel Alexander Pg. 2: Photo of Rachel Alexander by Ted Hendershot Pg. 3: Photos, left to right, by Marie von Hafften, Alex Brott, Mary Welter, Faith Bernstein, Halley McCormick and Lian Caspi Pg. 12-13: Photos contributed by Alex Brott Pg. 14: Photo by Halley McCormick Pg. 15: Photo courtesy of Greg Lehman Pg. 30: Photo contributed by Lian Caspi Pg. 33: Illustration by Ruth Hwang Pg. 34-35: Restaurant map by Molly Olmsted Pg. 36-37: Illustrations by Julie Peterson Pg. 39: Zodiac graphics by Katie Berfield

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