Disclaimer: This is by no means an attempt to indoctrinate anyone. Believe me, I’ve had this fight with many, many people. But I want to discuss one of my favorite things: food. I work at Whole Foods, who is perceived to be the figurehead of environmental consideration and healthy eating. When people learn that, they sometimes expect that I live a no-waste, raw vegan lifestyle and truth be told… I don’t. At all, or by any means. For example, I am currently surrounded by a package of cat litter that was purchased in a plastic bag, a 92 count set of plastic food containers, and am wearing non-sustainable clothing that I’m sure was made in the name of fast fashion. I know that these things will harm the environment, I know I can do more, I know that my minimalism is slipping. But I’m trying and that’s what I want to discuss. I tell people all the time that I didn’t get as big as I was on accident -- I ate a lot during my first year of college, gaining about 40 pounds. I think it’s safe to say that 20 of those pounds were at the hand of cafeteria burgers. I’ve been a vegetarian since September 2018 and I find myself answering the same questions: “You don’t eat meat? Like… at all?”, “You don’t even eat fish??”, and “How do you get your protein?” Often times, these questions come in succession and I find that in a college town, many people are attempting an alternative diet to what we are taught as kids with little success. This is by no means a criticism of the people or their attempts -- those attempts are just as important as successes, but I think that people make these lifestyle changes more complicated than they have to. (And my experience seems to be rare, so I apologize if I come off as flippant, I just can’t fully understand the struggle no matter how hard my empath-heart tries.) Vegetarianism is not something that requires you to go into a rage-induced fit where you throw out all of the meat in your house and begin talking about how you haven’t had meat in 4 hours and you’re suddenly iron deficient. It is a conscious choice, but it doesn’t require constant attention and nursing. In September, I was moving into an apartment on my own and coping with a breakup while still balancing school and work. Food, while amazing, was rarely enjoyed because I was constantly running to the next thing. That means that when I got a chance to eat, I had to make sure it was nutrient-dense food (this is always something to strive for, but I was struggling to make time to eat, so it was something I had to really think about). I began buying vegetables and fruit and googling “easy vegetarian recipes”. The results often yielded 15-ingredient, 14-step recipes that, for a college student, was unbelievably unrealistic. So I took it to basics. I made rice bowls with mushrooms, bell peppers, onions, carrots, broccoli, and veggie egg rolls that you put in the oven. I made so many burrito/fajita bowls. I made breakfast with eggs (yes, not vegetarian technically, but I found that if I eliminate that from my diet, I will not get enough natural protein) and toast, more than occasionally just popping Eggo waffles into the toaster and running through the door to class. But I ate when I was hungry and made sure that I didn’t have meat in the house. Veggie burgers and soy nuggets curbed the craving for burgers or chicken nuggets easily and deliciously. These saved my life on days that I was super rushed and would have probably gone out to eat at a fast food restaurant. I’m not saying that correlation implies causation, but I have lost almost 40 pounds since that life change. The question that comes up less often, but that I find myself answering the most is why. Why did I go vegetarian? That’s a multifaceted answer, but the TLDR (too long, didn’t read) version is: I wanted to for the personal, ecological, and animal cruelty issues we face today as meat eaters. I’m sure if you’re in touch with a single environmentally-conscious young person, you know that there is a plethora of videos of animals being mistreated by farm owners, slaughtered with little consideration for their lives, and even videos of young animals being separated minutes after birth from their mother. These videos are in no sort of shortage, but the animals, however, will be within the next few generations. These animals suffer. This makes me sound like a bleeding heart hippie, but honestly, humans have a tendency to believe we are entitled to the world and its resources around us. This fact is what causes a lot of my disdain for meat-eating. We choose that our desire to eat meat is more valuable than the feelings of those beings that we are eating.
David Foster Wallace, the man dubbed the greatest writer of our time, discusses the issue of animal suffering in his essay, “Consider the Lobster.” In said essay, Wallace tells the tale of the Maine Lobster Fest and tries to reconcile the eating of animals, specifically lobsters, for pleasure. He discusses scientific indicators of animals feeling pleasure and why he finds it hard to eat animals if he knows it suffered in the venture to his plate. His resolution: don’t think about it. And that’s fine. Awareness is valuable, but action is infallible. Movers-and-shakers were once simply advocates. An important element of this to not push your partner, housemates, or family members to become vegetarians if they aren’t interested. Your choice is not theirs. My boyfriend is still a meat-eater, but he tries to assure that the meat he consumes is ethically sourced and sustainably farmed, which is important as well. If you’re going to eat meat, please attempt to make sure it’s been obtained in an ethical way. You don’t have to give up meat for the sake of sustainability if you legitimately cannot function without it, but put good food in your body instead of what’s cheap and easy. I say all of this to tell you it’s possible to be a vegetarian. Cheese pizzas can be jazzed up with veggies, burritos are absolutely delicious with beans instead of beef or chicken, and there are substitutes to appease the craving of meat. An attempt, or even a meatless Monday, toward vegetarianism makes an impact, both in your wallet and in the longevity of the planet. - The Cynic
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There’s a meme I saw recently that joked about your body running with its check engine/service engine soon light on and knowing that you need to take care of it, but refusing to because you simply don’t have time or energy to do so. This meme was an accurate representation of my life for a while. I knew I needed to eat better, exercise more, focus on my mental health, etc. I knew these things but chose not to do act because “I’m a full-time student who works a lot” (I put this in quotations because this is my go-to excuse for why I can’t do something [ AKA anything]). But with recent life events and health-related situations, I want to discuss the importance of not letting yourself run with your service-engine-soon light on for too long. I am an advocate for sexual health, and I have been for a long time. This doesn’t just entail having safer sex, or making sure that your partner has a clean STI screen. It means ensuring that you don’t have a severe p.H. imbalance, any unresolved trauma from previous relationships and working through personal experiences (which takes time and isn’t always apparent), and even doing self-breast exams. I mention this last one because the last year-or-so has been affected by a self-performed exam, where I found a lump on my left breast. Last April, I mentioned the mass to my mom, who recommended I have it checked by a doctor on campus. It was small. I could feel it against my arm. It wasn’t painful but was accompanied with a bruise. My significant other was keeping an eye on it, making sure it didn’t bruise any more as we racked our brains to try to figure out what I hit my side on and what could have left such an ugly purple spot on my side. Upon going to the doctor, an ultrasound was ordered and we looked at it. I remember looking at it on the ultrasound screen, trying to recall what Google said fluid (cysts, in this case) looked like as opposed to solid masses. I was two weeks from moving to the other corner of the state and needed answers or some sort of peace-of-mind. The day before my last day at UA Monticello, the women’s clinic called and said, “Your ultrasound came back negative.” That was it. No clarification of what negative meant. I was told to come back in 6 months and have it checked again. My service light came on in April and I was told to leave it on for 6 more months. I waited longer. I kept doing self-checks. I kept saying, “It feels bigger.” I kept not handling it. January came and I finally decided that I had time to go back and have it checked. I contacted the on-campus women’s clinic (who I cannot recommend enough!) and made an appointment, where the nurse ordered another ultrasound to check on it. I remember the nurse practitioner saying that it was really big. I remember thinking that this was just another part of going through the motions. I remember them saying that we needed to surgically remove the tumor. The word “tumor” changed the game. It wasn’t “negative” -- it was a tumor. We prepared for surgery. The consultation, the doctors calls, and even feeling the lump didn’t make any of it feel real. I wasn’t scared until the night before. My boyfriend came over the night before to hang out with my parents and go to dinner, and I dreaded him leaving because that meant that we were getting closer to having to do the surgery. There had been an overwhelming sense of peace until there was an overwhelming sense of fear. I’ve learned that when I’m scared and people who are in authoritative positions tell me what to do, I naturally do what I’m told. Piercers, tattooists, doctors, I ultimately trust them enough to let them tell me what is in my best interest. While we were waiting, I wanted to crawl out of my skin and dissolve -- lump and all. I feared waking up during the procedure, I feared the pain, I feared not being aware of what happened to my body during the surgery. But there’s this medicine they put in your IV when you’re going back to the operating room that they call “The Tequila” that makes you “relaxed, sleepy, and forgetful”. And boy, does it. I did not care about anything once I had that in my system, and I woke up to a nurse standing by my bedside who was trying to talk to me. My throat was incredibly dry, so much so that I couldn’t speak. The only thing I could do to communicate with her that I was awake and could hear her was to sign. My parents taught me baby sign language as an infant so I could communicate with them, and I used it again at 20 years-old to communicate with the nurse to tell her thank you and that I needed water. (I am by absolutely no means fluent, but I knew enough to communicate with her until she got me something to drink.) Don’t underestimate how important early communication skills are; this is a prime example of the foundations of communication being laid down during the first few years of development. Sorry, I’m a Comm major. I woke up with the worst case of cotton mouth I have ever experienced. And I woke up again...and again, and again. (The anesthesia had me out and I was trying so hard to wake up.) My mom came back to recovery and I was given some crackers and water. I ate a bite of a cracker before it gummed up in my mouth and got stuck. Imagine eating a Popeyes biscuit without having any water for 7 years prior -- it was that bad. We checked out the incision and I was helped into the bathroom to change my clothes after going over discharge information. I was placed in a wheelchair and was wheeled to the car where my boyfriend and family was waiting for me so we could all go to my apartment. With the exception of randomly falling asleep and trying to order a calzone from my favorite local restaurant (with no luck, I might add), most of Thursday was a blur. I found out two days ago that the tumor was benign, as the doctors had told me time and time again. The tumor (or fibroadenoma as they also called it) had grown to “the size of a good egg” between late May and January. I have been blessed time and time again through this journey and the fact that it is over gives me more peace than anything else. So I say all of this to tell you that if you feel something off or you know your service light is on, take the time and try to figure out what will help you get back to running smoothly. It may be as simple as becoming more mindful of the things happening around you, or physically going to the doctor and figuring out what’s wrong. Make that time for yourself. - The Cynic
I apologize for the radio static, as it has been a long time since I’ve posted or even written. Being an upper-class Communications major comes with no tests and fifty papers, so I have poured myself into writing essays instead of writing for the blog. Not that I could access Weebly anyway -- UAM had every Weebly URL blocked after the Fall semester. But I’m glad to be back. It’s time to talk.
I have never been one to take risks. I am a safe person who likes certainty and absolutes in life. This last semester has seemed to become the bane of my existence to that part of my being. River and I are moving across the state (River already moved and I move tomorrow). We, like many of our friends, have decided that UAM was not what we needed to ensure our personal success. That place was home when it had to be. The people were great, the professors that actually were invested in their students were life-changing (Thank you, again, Dr. Strong, Dr. Miller, and Justin), and I was close to family. But I have been a “city kid” since birth. Where that school is, it is almost completely surrounded by rural land. I mean, hell, I looked out the window of my dorm room to a cow pasture filled with the coolest cows around. But the only thing to do in town was go to Wal-Mart, which wasn’t normally fun if the whole friend group didn’t go. What made UAM home were the friends I made while I was there. If you have seen my Instagram or seen us on campus, you will know that they are everything to me. The friends there are those people I was destined to meet and have in my life. They’re my people and I love them. If it hadn’t been for the Wal-Mart jams, the game nights, the D&D sessions, the desk shifts, the ping pong matches, the long car talks, the group chat, and many other elements of what life was there, I would only be half of the person I am today. I remember riding to Wal-Mart listening to Chris Brown’s “Kiss Kiss” and thinking that this was the feeling I have waited for -- the feeling of finally finding the friendships I was destined to have in my life. You guys changed what it meant to feel alive. In high school, I had a really hard time making friends and an even harder time keeping them, and that still impacts my life today. But you guys -- Sam, Adam, River, Jake, Brando, Justin -- taught me that I could not hold a friendship up if an effort wasn’t being made by the other people, too. You guys changed everything for me and I am so unbelievably grateful for each of you. So the risks Riv and I are making here in the next few months are huge. We are packing our lives up and moving to a school of 30,000 from a school of less than 2,000. We are going from big fish in a small pond to small fish in a big pond. I, personally, am so scared that it would be all too easy for me to isolate myself (like I did the last few weeks at UAM) and not go. But good things rarely happen where you are comfortable. River and I will grow, learn, and love harder and faster than we ever have before. I would be so unbelievably lost without his support and encouragement. He has stepped up when I couldn’t bare to get out of bed and pack. He has reminded me what it felt like to walk the sidewalks that would lead us to our success. He has and continues to recognize when I am in over my head and need him to help me recognize that I have beaten odds that were more-stacked against me. There was a point in the Fall semester where I realized I would never be able to do what I want to do if I stayed there. I would always be held back by my own downfalls. Even in starting the newspaper, I was leading it and the opportunities that we had were limited by what Jake and I could accomplish with the administration prolonging change. I kept saying, “We just have to make it another two years. Just two years.” And then it clicked. I don’t have to stay somewhere I am unhappy. Why would I try to endure two years if I have the power to change it myself? River and I have been given immensely great opportunities where we have the ability to transfer schools. We had an opportunity that a lot of other people don’t have. And we don’t intend to go up to school and blow off the opportunity we have been given. We are determined to use the success we already have to encourage us to become more of what we want in life. With hard work and dedication, I am getting to attend a school I never thought I could attend or would be able to afford for free. My schooling is paid for because of the support and hard work ethic that I have and had instilled in me from my parents. I get to be a Razorback (which, if you know my dad, is kind of a big deal in my house). So to UAM, I hope that you take the opportunities you have coming up. The new Comm professor is going to change the face of what it means to be a Communication major from UAM. New, brilliant minds are coming to see what they are capable of, and I hope that they are pushed in a way that shows them what they are able to do. When I was there, Justin changed the way I saw the world around me, changed what I wanted for myself, opened up my eyes to things I have since fully immersed myself in, and helped me see that whatever path I choose, I will get where I am supposed to be. I have never been one to take risks, but I recognize the value of them. I recognize that the power I have over my life and the ability to end one chapter and begin another in a few short months is fleeting. I want to be in a big school with more opportunities for myself. I see that this is a massive turning point for me and the life River and I want together. So I hope that you will stick around for the journey. - The Cynic If you have kept up with my personal life outside of this blog, you know I have been trying to start a student newspaper on my university campus for almost a full year now. In today’s age, it is kind of rare for there to not be a newspaper at a public university. In the town I live in, there are a lot of… old school values that are still instilled in the university and how it is run. And that’s fine. Until the old school values do not allow for students to get hands-on experience in their future fields and makes the students feel like their voice is less important than making the university look good.
Here’s a little backstory: Two years ago, a professor was hired with the understanding that they would help start a student newspaper and advance the Communications department. This included starting a radio station, opening up studio space, give students broadcasting experience, and a newspaper. With that mutual understanding between administration and the professor, they started a small eight week class that would work to create a proposal and prototype that would be later submitted for approval to the school board. The class created the proposal, finished the prototype, and awaited the word on if we were to become a proper, school-endorsed student newspaper. Weeks went by and no word came back to us. We later found out our approval had not ever been submitted to the board. So we decided to continue pursuing the paper on our own. I was appointed the Editor-in-Chief and gathered what few staff members we had left. We tried to publish pieces online to our website and create relevant and timely pieces that looked good for the university, but not shying away from the reality of life on campus. Shortly after my staff started to work to schedule interviews, it came to light that gag orders were sent out to staff and Residence Life workers through the Residence Life office. They were told there was no “student newspaper on campus.” All of our work came to a quick and aggressive stop. My assistant editor and I had a meeting with the Dean of Students a few weeks later after I received a phone call on my personal cell phone, and during the meeting they informed us that we were not allowed to use any of the images of the school or even the mascot and asked us to be sure to inform anyone and everyone we talked to that we were completely independent from the university. We complied and removed the logos that would be associated with the school and took all of the signifying features of the university off of our website and social media sites that fell under Copyright law. Students in the staff worked to create our own logo and push for compromise with administration. We were told by the Dean that they would ask the upper administration what the concerns where and come back to us to encourage efforts to move forward together. We waited, once again, with no reply. Things have not been able to progress further since this meeting. So to say I feel a bit defeated is an understatement. I am even more aggravated that my efforts to further my education and job experience has done nothing but cause people to see me as someone who likes to cause trouble. I requested an interview recently in regard to the university giving a few students money they weren’t supposed to get back as a refund and the university making them pay back all of the money that was dispersed. Despite this being a university error. I was informed that the person I contacted was “not allowed” to be interviewed for the paper according to their bosses (who are responsible for multiple grievances of mine that are separate from the newspaper). My problem is not the person refusing an interview,-- they have a right to do that-- my problem is the administration using every trick in the book to keep a student newspaper from properly developing, and silencing students. They wonder why they have a low retention rate and why, when administration makes a grand gesture like building a building but not telling anyone what’s being put in it and students find out they’re paying for it, students get mad. When there is mold and bed bugs in the residence halls, ants in the bathrooms, and buildings that can’t even be used for classes without someone reacting to the poor conditions, you shouldn’t be surprised when students find out they’re paying money for a building they didn’t even need. I could not care less about the Chick-Fil-A that is supposed to be installed in the building. It’s not about that, it’s about a lack of communication and a large amount of secrecy that is upheld from students. Not even professors or staff know what the rest of the two story building will be filled with. There is no transparency or explanation outside of fluff stories to make the university look good to students or faculty. Even during a minor scandal where the chancellor posed in front of a spirit wall during Homecoming week that had sexually insensitive comments, the apology email was only sent out to students. There is no trust between student and administration, because the only type of communication that is happening does not allow for feedback from student to administrator. And I say that in every survey, every meeting, and every conversation I have with people who are concerned for this university. But no one listens. I want this university to succeed, and I think that this school is a great opportunity for people who need to take their first step out of high school. But UAM, your purpose is to prepare students for their future careers. And you do that for people who are majoring in agriculture, music, nursing, and education. But anyone else who doesn’t follow the status quo within those departments gets pushed to the back burner and deemed a troublemaker for efforts to better their college experience and further their careers. So long story short, I will not be backing down. I will not let your silencing continue. I will not let you quiet the voice of the students, so long as I attend this university. I didn’t want to be the bad guy, but I feel like I have to be. So I’ll leave you with this, UAM: “The sound of tireless voices is the price we pay to hear the music of our own opinions.” -Adldai E. Stevenson To see our independent student newspaper, check out our website at green-gazette.com or our social links below. If you’re interested in writing, designing, managing, or even leading the newspaper, contact the staff at [email protected]. |
AuthorGabrielle Willingham is a young Arkansan woman who sees the importance of simultaneous cynicism and optimism. Gabrielle is currently working on a MA in Communication with a focus in gender studies and political science. Archives
January 2021
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