BALL BEARINGS
WHAT’S INSIDE
BALL BEARINGS
MAGAZINE
EXECUTIV E
EDITOR-IN-CHIEF
JESSCA VELEZ
MANAGING EDITOR
CRISTAL MARIANO-VARGAS
DESIGN EDITOR
KELSEY COLLINS
CO-PHOTO EDITORS
LEXIE HUYS
AALIYAH SANSONE
SOCIAL MEDIA EDITOR ENDIASIMPSON
CO-ASSOCIATE EDITORS
MACI HOSKINS TRINITY REA
STAFF
DESIGNERS
LJ BARNES
JESSICA BERGFORS
KELSEY COLLINS
OLICIA MCSPADDEN
BRENDEN ROWAN
JOSIE SANTIAGO
MALLORY TUCKER
WRITERS
DILLON ROSENLIEB
JESSICA VELEZ
KAIRA CARTER
MACI HOSKINS
EDITOR-IN-CHIEF
EMBER WOLSTENHOLME
CRISTAL MARIANO-VARGAS
LINNEA SUNDQUIST
PHOTOGRAPHERS
AALIYAH SANSONE
LEXIE HUYS
ADVISER
COREY OHLENKAMP
Aaliyah Sansone, Ball Bearings
FROM THE
EDITOR
I’ve spent a lot of my life being taught to act civil.
‘Don’t talk back’. ‘Don’t ask questions’. ‘Don’t push the status quo’. I’ve been taught to go through life with a straight back, a smile on my face, and a gracefulness that appeases the world.
The Cambridge Dictionary defines civil as being polite and formal. And that’s how I acted for a long time, or at least until I reached 15 years old.
When I started high school, I began to gain an idea of who I wanted to be and how I wanted the world to look. I dreamt of equality for women and Latinos.
I imagined a world where I could embrace the intersectionality that made me who I am without shame or uncertainty about my safety — but with this revelation came questions about my character.
When I stopped striving to act “civil” I was suddenly deemed rebellious, or, god forbid, a feminist.
My curly hair became too big, my skirts too short, and I argued so much my mom told me I should’ve gone to school to be a lawyer instead of a journalist.
I hated being told to act civil, and I didn’t understand why until I gained an interest in learning about my ancestors. I wanted to know more about my roots and who made up the diverse DNA of my people.
Through research, I found stories of beautiful, meaningful traditions and art pieces that have survived the strength of time, but with these wonderful discoveries came a gut-wrenching heartbreak. Tales of sickness, battles, and slavery overshadowed much of the empowering information I had just learned about.
There’s something horrific about realizing my Black ancestors were the first to experience the transatlantic slave trade and my indigenous ancestors, the Tainos, were the first to meet Christopher Columbus in 1492. Imagining the confusion, the hurt, and the betrayal makes me feel sick.
It wasn’t difficult to understand that the reason I hated the word civil was because the definition forced on the world is rooted in colonization and white supremacy.
According to an Oxford study, the standard of civilization was a legal mechanism designed to set the benchmark for non-European states during the European colonial period. However, when many non-European societies failed to meet the European criteria for civilization, they were seen as inferior and were colonized.
My ancestors weren’t deemed civil enough.
Society’s view of what makes a person civil or civilized has led to the erasing of cultures and entire tribes of people. Today, when we ask people to act civil, based on societal standards, we’re asking them to dim their light. To dim their hopes, dreams, and aspirations because they make people uncomfortable. Asking someone to act civil is asking them to stop fighting for the things they believe in because it makes people uncomfortable.
If this issue has taught me anything, it’s that it’s time we redefine what it means to be civil.
My favorite definition of the word was written in a blog post on Medium by Robin Cangie. Robin writes, “To be civil is, fundamentally, to care. To care for one’s community and the dignity and flourishing of each individual within it, even when doing so is difficult and uncomfortable.”
To me, civility means respecting those around you enough to listen when they’re speaking and to consider their experiences and emotions. Being civil doesn’t mean you glorify one group of people more than another. It means you care about the well-being of all and accept them for who they are and the struggles they’ve endured. Civil is not something you are. It’s something you do.
This issue is our way of showing civility for the Muncie community.
THE TRUTH ABOUT THE ‘WRONG’ SIDE OF THE TRACKS
BY JESSICA VELEZ
Smart, resourceful, and generous.
These were the first three adjectives Urban Light Community Development neighborhood pastor Neil Kring used to describe the residents of the southside of Muncie. Neil says these traits weren’t built from having things handed to them but from lessons they’ve learned through challenges and hardships that have plagued the southside for years.
During his 32 years living in Muncie, Neil has met people who have grappled with mental health issues, homelessness, food insecurity, substance abuse disorder, and gun violence. However, these struggles are often a direct reflection of a generational issue — one that is more intricate than meets the eye.
Muncie has a long history with the act of redlining. Cornell Law School’s Legal Information Institution defines redlining as a discriminatory practice that consists of the systematic denial of services such as mortgages, insurance loans, and other financial services to residents of certain areas, based on their race or ethnicity.
To Neil and many other residents, the impact of redlining in Muncie is still being observed today through unintentional segregation and economic decline that has created a community of people “bound together by their struggles.”
“It’s difficult to see people try to succeed and grow when they’ve been put in a position to do the exact opposite,” Neil says.
Illustration by Josie Santiago
MUNCIE HAS A COMPLEX HISTORY WITH REDLINING* THAT STILL DEEPLY IMPACTS ITS RESIDENTS TODAY.
A discriminatory practice that consists of systemic denial of services to residents of certain areas, based on their race or ethnicity.
Source: Cornell Law School’s Legal Information Institution *
A long and racist history Muncie has a man-made divider — railroad tracks — and a naturally occuring divider — the White River. As early as the 1930s, wealthier residents nestled in the northwest side of Muncie, while Black and white families from lower socioeconomic status planted roots in the northeast and southside.
The Industry and Whitely neighborhoods, located on the northeast side of the White River, have long been home to the established Black communities in Muncie. The Muncie Memory Spiral dated Muncie’s first Black community back to the midnineteenth century, and documented a rise in the Black population during the Great Migration as millions of African Americans moved to industrial cities.
However, they were greeted with both physical and emotional barriers that encouraged isolation and segregation. According to The Muncie Times Newspaper, a discontinued biweekly publication that served the Black community in Muncie, the Whitely neighborhood was originally created to
be a white-only factory town, but after struggling to sell the land, developers turned it into a neighborhood for African Americans.
The newspaper documented a 1940s meeting where city fathers wanted all African Americans in Muncie to live in Whitely only. Black residents refused and told the paper they recognized the plan as an attempt to move all African Americans to one space in order to eradicate them.
“
-NEIL KRING, neighborhood pastor
“ IT’S DIFFICULT TO SEE PEOPLE TRY TO SUCCEED AND GROW WHEN THEY’VE BEEN PUT IN A POSITION TO DO THE EXACT OPPOSITE.
An aerial view of Whitely neighborhood March 1987 in Muncie, Ind. Historically, the neighborhood has been home to the Black community in Muncie. Ball State University Digital Media Repository, Photo Provided
City developers weren’t the only ones playing a large role in upholding segregation. According to the Digital Scholarship Lab at the University of Richmond, in 1937, the Ball Brothers created the Westwood neighborhood on the northwest side of Ball State’s campus with a racially restrictive covenant.
These covenants, according to the University of Minnesota, were clauses inserted into property deeds to prevent people who were not white from buying or occupying land.
Racially restrictive covenants are no stranger to Indiana, as they’ve impacted Black communities all around the state, including in Gary and Indianapolis. The director of the Black Heritage Preservation Program at Indiana Landmarks, Eunice Trotter, has theorized that covenants and redlining, no matter where they occur, prevent the movement of people and therefore stunt growth and opportunities for Black communities.
“[Black community members] feel trapped because they can’t afford to get out of their place. How can they get out if they can’t get credit? How can they get credit if where they live helps drive what their credit score is?” Trotter says.
“
-EUNICE TROTTER, Director of the Black Heritage Preservation Program at Indiana Landmarks
“ HOW CAN THEY GET OUT IF THEY CAN’T GET CREDIT? HOW CAN THEY GET CREDIT IF WHERE THEY LIVE HELPS DRIVE WHAT THEIR CREDIT SCORE IS?
“The folks are just resource poor. They just barely have enough to make it,” Neil says.
Detrimental impact
The Fair Housing Act of 1968, according to the Civil Rights Division of the United States Department of Justice, made it unlawful for direct providers of housing, such as landlords and real estate companies, to discriminate against people because of their race or color. However, Neil still sees the cycle of struggle that redlining initiated continuing in the community due to the “historic disinvestment into these neighborhoods.”
According to Move for Hunger, the impact of redlining in other areas of life beyond housing is evident. Redlining results in neighborhood economic decline that prevents people from having access to basic services.
President of Muncie’s National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) branch, George Foley Jr., acknowledges that many neighborhoods that have experienced redlining are also food deserts and lack access to affordable healthcare including the Whitely and Thomas Park-Avondale neighborhoods.
Illustration by Josie Santiago
As many homes in Muncie fall into disrepair, because homeowners can’t afford to keep up the appearance or maintenance, neighborhoods are struggling with blight, or homes that are considered problematic. As a result, these issues lower the property value of the land and leave the houses susceptible to being bought by state investors, Neil says.
“People are waiting until enough people leave that they can package all those properties together and sell them to developers who have displaced the historic neighbors who have lived there,” Neil says.
In her time at Indiana Landmarks, Trotter has noticed a pattern of cities allowing properties to be abandoned and boarded in places that have a higher crime rate as a way “to run people out of that area.” As a result of that neglect, investors come in and bundle the properties into a new development. This process creates a domino effect that snowballs into a phenomenon called gentrification.
According to Merriam-Webster, gentrification occurs when an influx of middle-class or wealthy people renovate and rebuild homes and businesses that increase property value and displace previous residents.
“
-NEIL KRING, neighborhood pastor
“ THE PEOPLE WHO ARE CONNECTED TO THOSE CHALLENGES SOMETIMES ARE THE ONES WHO HAVE THE POSSIBLE SOLUTION.
While Neil isn’t sure Muncie is in danger of gentrification, because the city is struggling with economic development, he says that if economic development were to occur, neighborhoods that have experienced redlining are at risk of being gentrified.
A community effort
Muncie has been in the midst of economic decline for the last 50 years. According to the Center for Middletown Studies, in 1972, 21% of Muncie’s population was employed in heavy manufacturing. However, by the end of the century, only 7% of the city’s population engaged in industrial work.
Illustration by Josie Santiago
Factories that employed residents, including the Muncie Chevrolet Plant and the BorgWarner auto parts manufacturing plant, closed their doors before 2010, and left thousands without jobs.
These events have left many people wondering why people choose to stay in Muncie rather than moving to a city where they may have more opportunity.
Part of the reason many people, including Neil and George, have decided to stay in Muncie is simply because it feels like home. There is a comfortability that leaves residents anchored to the city in a way they can’t find anywhere else.
There is a desire to see neighbors, residents, and people who are on the streets thriving and living a good life, says Neil. Tackling challenges created by generational poverty is an effort that not only Neil, but other large organizations as well, have made their main focus.
“No one group, no one organization, is going to be able to do that [address complicated challenges], but we may be able to do some of those things together,” Neil says.
Getting control of the properties around Muncie in order to transform them into livable homes for residents has been a top priority. Organizations such as the Muncie Land Bank have been working to acquire abandoned and blighted properties in order to preserve them for people who have historically lived in those communities.
Neil and George both emphasize the importance of listening to the voices of the community to allow them to share their needs and what will help them thrive in the long run.
“The people who are connected to those challenges sometimes are the ones who have the possible solutions,” Neil says.
Aaliyah Sansone, Ball Bearings
‘PUBLIC SPEAKING’
I AM WORTH SOMETHING, AND I WANT THEM TO KNOW.
BY EMBER WOLSTENHOLME
Hello, My name is, This is why I’m here today —
But more than that. Go farther, Do better.
Oh, okay. I want to make a difference —
But not like that, try it this way. This is what you should say. Talk this way, speak these words. I promise you will fit the mold better this way —
But I don’t want To fit the mold, I want gold, mounted in old damaged homes Owned by the founders of pure determination, hard work
Earned by more than the common odds, Like waste thrown to the dogs, I am worth something, I want them to know These thoughts and feelings aren’t for nothing.
You expressed a lot today, perhaps we should reschedule?
No, I am reshaping the schedule. My words, my lips, write the story. Too long have they been sewn shut by the Tiny metal lies, threading their way into my brain
Saying that my truth is not true, that my dreams cannot be dreamt, But they are and they can. So let me ask you a question; how, And why, do you wish To strip my voice of all meaning, All potential, from which the future is held?
Keep asking your questions Then sit back, watch As originality unfolds. I don’t want To fit the mold.
I’m sorry I–
Don’t understand? Sure, I understand.
Illustration by Jessica Bergfors
Ember Wolstenholme is a theater design and technology major and writes for Ball Bearings Magazine. Her views do not necessarily reflect those of the magazine.
‘YOU’RE NOT ALONE’
ADDICTION AND DRUG USE HAS REMAINED PREVELANT IN THE MUNCIE COMMUNITY.
BY LINNEA SUNDQUIST
“It’s just a down[ward] spiral,” Domick says.
Dominick was born and raised in Muncie and began to drink alcohol at the age of 16. This recreational drinking slowly turned into the usage and selling of drugs including methamphetamines.
“I went from selling to using, from living to use, to using to live. Basically, if I didn’t have what I needed, I didn’t get out of bed,” Dominick says.
A little over two years ago, Dominick was arrested and held in Delaware County Jail for ten months.
The addiction crisis continues to have a devastating effect across the state of Indiana, according to an article published by Indiana University (IU). According to the article, the rise of drug usage is seen not only among adults in Indiana but also among teenagers.
“What I experience most when talking with my clients is they say they first engaged in drug use via social experimentation in early adolescence,” says Hannah Perkins, IU Health Addiction Treatment and Recovery Center addiction counselor.
Illustrations by Annabelle Price
College students are more prone to use marijuana than any other drug, according to American Addiction Centers. It is the highest drug used for people aged between 21 and 22. However, Hannah has noticed an increase in the use of illicitly manufactured opioids which she says has been responsible for multiple overdose deaths in the community.
Professor Jean Marie Place, who teaches in the Department of Nutrition and Health Sciences at Ball State University, says that students tend to get involved in drug use because those individuals think it will improve their performance in the classroom.
“
IT’S JUST A DOWN[WARD] SPIRAL, ... I WENT FROM SELLING TO USING, FROM LIVING TO USE, TO USING TO LIVE. BASICALLY, IF I DIDN’T HAVE WHAT I NEEDED, I DIDN’T GET OUT OF BED.
The longer a certain person uses drugs, the more that person becomes addicted, which makes the brain less in control to stop partaking in substance use.
After his arrest, Dominick confessed that if he got out of jail sooner than 10 months, he would have continued using and drinking.
“I was going to go out and get high or drunk because I wasn’t ready to stop,” Dominick says.
A few months into Dominick’s sentence, he knew he needed to make a change.
“Two months into that ten months — I can’t keep doing this,” says Dominick. “I can’t keep doing this to myself. I can’t keep doing this to my family.”
Place emphasizes addiction is a chronic relapsing brain disease, and while she recognizes that others do not associate addiction with that definition because “there’s also an element of choice,” she still stays adamant about her answer.
Place explains that many students feel that in order to do well on tests and other homework assignments for their classes, they need to use drugs.
A
life changing impact
Addiction wasn’t classified as a disease until 1987, according to IU Health. Addiction and drug usage can be caused in multiple ways. According to the article, risk factors for addiction include family genetics, the environment you were raised in, and using drugs as a person’s brain is still growing and developing.
- DOMINICK, a Muncie resident
”
Substance use can affect an individual’s social behaviors. Professor Place explains drug usage can cause many disruptions in individuals’ lives.
“It affects your life,” Place says. “It affects friend groups [and] a variety of areas of your life.”
Dominick says his addiction “broke the people around me.”
Dominick further explains that he’s a very family oriented. However despite this, his battle with addiction led him to distance himself from his loved ones.
“It was me staying away from my family because I was guilty of the way I was carrying myself,” Dominick says. “I didn’t think they saw me or my behavior, but they noticed everything. It was ultimately me that I was hurting in the long [run].”
Along with the effects of drug usage on an individual’s social behaviors, there are many physical and mental health effects as well.
“Physical effects can range in severity and can include increased heart rate, dental problems, or sleep difficulties,” Hannah says.
She explains how the physical effects of drug abuse can vary from person to person, depending on factors such as frequency, duration, and the quantity that has been consumed.
Along with these short-term effects of drug usage, Hannah says possible long-term effects include cirrhosis of the liver, HIV/AIDS and Hepatitis from intravenous use, or cardiovascular issues such as heart attacks from methamphetamine and cocaine usage.
Withdrawal symptoms also make up a huge portion of the physical effects of drug abuse.
”We often hear the question about why someone can’t simply stop their use once they start,” Hannah says. “This can be explained by considering the withdrawal that an individual who is dependent on a substance experiences. This can include nausea, vomiting, diarrhea or constipation, severe muscle and body aches, and significant fatigue.”
THE EFFECTS OF DRUG USAGE
Hannah goes on to explain how the cycle of withdrawal can feel neverending. Many individuals suffering from addiction are dependent on substances in their lives, causing them to possibly seek medical intervention.
Free and clean
Treatment and recovery was a steady journey for Dominick. While he was in jail, he met other inmates and started going to classes discussing recovery.
“[The class] taught us things on the brain, how the brain works with drugs and alcohol, [and] how it stimulates it,” Dominick says.
Illlustrations by Annabelle Price
After Dominick got out of jail, he attended a 28-day program at a safe residential recovery house in Indianapolis called Progress House.
During this time, he was able to implement new routines in his life and learned how to love himself without the use of substances. Dominick got a job and was taking classes daily.
Once his program was finished, he had the choice to either stay in Indianapolis or go back to his hometown, Muncie.
In the end, Dominick decided it was better to stop “running from my issues.”
Dominick is now an Alcoholics Anonymous advocate, encouraging and inspiring as many people as he can.
“You never know what people could be going through,” Dominick says. “I have friends that are in active addiction still to this day.”
Dominick encourages people who are going through the battle of addiction to reach out to others and talk to sponsors.
“You’re not struggling by yourself and you’re not alone, so don’t ever feel that way,” Dominick says.
Dominick poses for a photo Nov. 7 at 520 W Main St. He is now an Alcoholics Anonymous advocate after battling with alcoholism for years. Lexie Huys, Ball Bearings
OUT OF TOUCH
TOUCH TOUCH
LOCAL NEWSPAPERS IN DELAWARE COUNTY HAVE BEEN DIMINISHING RAPIDLY FOR YEARS.
BY KAIRA CARTER
The year was 1996, and Muncie’s two largest newspapers, the
of Journalism and Media has recorded a 48% decrease in newspaper circulation between 2004 and 2019. Not only are fewer papers providing content multiple times per day, there are more counties across America without access to a local newspaper at all.
multiple newspapers to one daily publication from one source.
“It took a while for people to get accustomed to the fact there was not an afternoon paper anymore,” Keith says.
Accessibility to information throughout the day was a commodity provided by the local paper. Today, the newspaper is a diminishing outlet for information. The Hussman School
This phenomenon is known as a news desert.
According to the Center for Innovation & Sustainability in Local Media (CISLM), “a news desert is a community, either rural or urban, with limited access to the sort of credible and comprehensive news and information that feeds democracy at the grassroots level.”
newspaper collected
Data collected from the CISLM’s News Desert Project reports that over a quarter of all local newspapers in the country have disappeared since 2004. Delaware County is no exception.
The Star Press
to community sports.
sports season. There were still a lot of things going on when he left — that was last December.”
Keith, who worked with Douglas for over 40 years and co-wrote four true crime books about Muncie with him, has full faith in his abilities to maintain The Star Press. He believes that with
passionate writers like him, Muncie will not lose its availability to local news.
readers are always up-to-date on Muncie sports.
Before his arrival, it had been ten months since The Star Press had a sports writer or any sports last
engagement at all. Douglas Walker was the only employee working for the newspaper.
“The last guy who had my job as the sports reporter here, he didn’t stay very long,” Cade says. “He left in the middle of the high school
However, the counties surrounding Delaware County, according to Keith, rely on Muncie and The Star Press to cover information for them.
“I certainly think there are news deserts in those outlying counties
around Delaware County,” Keith says. “But at the same time, if somebody working unpaid hours absorbs all the responsibility and takes it on themselves, readers may not notice that much.”
The Star Press logo on display Nov. 9, 2024, at 220 S. Walnut St. The publication is located on the third floor of the former Chase Bank building. Jessica Velez, Ball Bearings
THERE ARE PEOPLE WHO WILL MAKE EVERY EFFORT THEY CAN TO MAKE SURE THAT THE NEWS PEOPLE WANT GETS IN THEIR HANDS.
-KEITH ROYSDON, previous writer for the Muncie Evening Press
ByGone days
A senior professor of media at Ball State, Chris Flook, is a member of the Delaware County Historical Society. In 2017, he was requested to write a bi-weekly news article for a column known as ByGone Muncie. These articles cover Muncie’s rich history and are published to The Star Press every two weeks.
media platforms, the lines drawn between fact and fiction become blurred.
“Sometimes the Internet is legit[imate], sometimes it’s not,” Chris says. “Sometimes it doesn’t have depth, or it’s misleading, or it doesn’t have the right context. You don’t get any kind of accurate picture.”
In one of his columns, ByGone Muncie: Welcome to a dark age of news outlets, he discusses past papers like the Muncie Morning Star and the Muncie Evening Press before their merge and decline.
During Keith’s time with the Evening Press and Star Press, he witnessed the shift from physical newspapers to online news. Though the physical Star Press newspaper still exists for subscribers, most of the news is adapted to digital mediums rather than print.
“I wanted to do a history of The Star Press and tie it into Muncie’s history of the local paper,” Chris says. “It significantly diminished from its height. Compared to 20 or even 10 years ago, there’s way less content.”
According to Chris’s column, the leading cause for declines in local newspapers and curated, factchecked content is the Internet. With the introduction of social
According to Keith, the Internet allows newspapers to provide faster, more accessible information to the masses. However, Chris counters that the Internet diminishes the value of curated content in a world of free social media.
Creating community ties
Community, as described in Psychology Today, is what makes residents feel connected with their neighbors in a town or a city. This connectedness requires people to look beyond their individual scope and learn about the lives of those around them.
“You should have daily information about what’s going on… in the community, good and bad,” Chris says.
According to the Hussman School of Journalism and Media, in communities where there is not enough digital or print revenue to pay for local newspapers, residents aren’t given the information they need to resolve issues. The school has found that the fate of communities and the vitality of local news are linked, and both struggle without the help of one another.
News deserts tend to impact vulnerable citizens including the elderly, people from lower socioeconomic status, and those less educated than the average
Eighteen percent of residents living in a news desert live below the poverty line. This is an increase compared to the national poverty
Without daily information, Chris says, the community loses its primary modem for creating historical archives. The best way for people to support local news in their communities, and to preserve connections, is to subscribe and read news articles, which often requires readers to pay for services
INV ISIBL INVISIBL
E VISI BLE NV ISI BLE
ISIBL E INVISIBL E
INVISIBLE
AS PRESIDENTIAL ELECTIONS COME AND GO, MY COMMUNITY IS OFTEN OVERLOOKED.
BLE
by dillon rosenlieb
To me, being disabled in this country feels like trying to speak without being heard.
It’s like being in a library where you’re forced to whisper, and everyone else’s voices echo loudly around you and drown out your own. Their concerns, issues, and opinions are amplified and taken seriously, while yours are dismissed. It’s as if you’re mute, unseen, and invisible.
Growing up with a disability in this country, you quickly learn this society wasn’t built for people like you.
Unfair and ignorant stereotypes prevail, and people make up their minds about you just by looking at you. They’re convinced they’ve got you all figured out in a single glance. Maybe it’s a wheelchair, a limp, or a stutter — whatever it is — society sees even the slightest difference and in an instant, puts you in a box. More often than not, they write you off.
“
GROWING UP WITH A DISABILITY IN THIS COUNTRY, YOU QUICKLY LEARN THIS SOCIETY WASN’T BUILT FOR PEOPLE LIKE YOU.
”
As someone who struggles to live independently, get a wellpaying job, or maintain a career, society assumes you’ll never be able to pay your own bills, have an intimate relationship, get married, or raise a family. You’re seen as someone without opinions or perspective.
If you manage to accomplish these things with a disability, society and the media often reduces you to a heartwarming story of perseverance, instead of recognizing it for what it truly is — someone simply trying to make a name for themselves and put food on the table just like any other American.
As a kid, I experienced a lot of what I just described. People would stare at me, silently wondering why I looked different, and their eyes would follow me wherever I went. As I got older, I realized it’s because people see you and immediately make judgments.
No one says it outright, but I can see it on their faces. I can’t help but think — ‘You got all that from the wheelchair, huh?’
If I had a nickel for every time I saw that look, let’s just say I’d be doing pretty well. I know everyone faces doubters; it’s part of life. But most people don’t have to deal with every single person they meet making assumptions based solely on how they look, or how they navigate the world.
My wheelchair doesn’t fit the narrative society expects.
As presidential elections come and go, I often see both candidates vying for support from religious and minority organizations — groups that represent many of the diverse perspectives and opinions across the nation.
Yet, I don’t see where my community comes into play.
According to the National Disability Institute, people with disabilities make up one of the largest minority groups in the United States, with over 61 million adults living with a disability.
So why aren’t the voices and perspectives of the 61 million adults living with disabilities in this country a priority for politicians and candidates during election time?
I believe it’s because people with disabilities were segregated when the electoral process was established, just like many other minorities.
At that time, there was no need to campaign toward people with disabilities. Protection against discrimination for people with disabilities wasn’t passed until the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) in 1990 — more than 200 years after the first presidential election in 1789.
This act required state and local governments to ensure that people with disabilities have equal opportunity to vote.
Even after the Civil Rights Act of the 1960s, it took nearly three decades for the ADA to pass, further highlighting how long our political systems have operated without considering the perspectives or issues of the disability community.
Growing up with my parents and three siblings, our family was often called ‘interabled’.
This term describes how our family was made up of both able-bodied members — my parents and siblings — and one member with a disability — me.
Like most young adults, I built my political beliefs based on the values my parents held and which party aligned with those beliefs.
Sophomore journalism major Dillon Rosenlieb poses for a photo Nov. 7 in the Art and Journalism Building in Muncie, Ind Lexie Huys, Ball Bearings
But as I grew older and started forming my own opinions, I realized that outside of the hottopic issues that every American has an opinion on, no candidate or party addresses the needs of my community.
There’s a variety of issues that people with disabilities face on a regular basis that have been overlooked. Most planes require passengers using electric wheelchairs to transfer into a regular plane seat, but for some in my community, due to physical limitations, sitting in those seats is impossible, especially for the duration of a flight.
As a result, many people in the disability community are unable to travel outside the country because the aviation system simply can’t accommodate us. Those who can fly face the risk of their mobility device, an expensive and essential item, not being safely stored. A 2019 study by the Open Doors Organization found that only 11 million passengers with disabilities took flights that year, representing about 7% of all air travelers in the U.S.
Another key issue many in my community face is constant battles with insurance to get funding for medical equipment that helps us gain more independence in our everyday lives.
We are often told that what we need doesn’t fit the criteria of “medically necessary”— a classic line used by insurance companies to avoid paying for essential items. According to the National Council on Disability, more than 50% of people with disabilities report struggling to get proper insurance coverage to meet their needs.
EVERY FOUR YEARS, I WILL BE FACED WITH A BALLOT, AND ASIDE FROM DECIDING WHO I WANT AT THE HELM — A RIGHT THAT EVERY AMERICAN CITIZEN HAS TO FORM THEIR OWN OPINIONS ON — MOST OF THE ISSUES ON THE BALLOT HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH IMPROVING THE LIVES OF PEOPLE IN MY COMMUNITY.
On a personal note, managing college life is a challenge when it comes to activities of daily living. I rely on a personal care assistant to help me every morning and night with tasks I cannot do independently, but most colleges leave the responsibility of finding and funding this care to the students and their families.
I’m fortunate enough to have parents who can pay for my care out of pocket, but many others in my position aren’t so lucky and often have to settle or give up on their dreams altogether. The average cost of personal care assistance for someone with a disability can range from $1,000 to $4,000 per month, amounting to up to $48,000 per year, according to Disability Rights California.
Every four years, I will be faced with a ballot, and aside from deciding who I want at the helm — a right that every American citizen has to form their own opinions on — most of the issues on the ballot have nothing to do with improving the lives of people in my community. Our issues aren’t in the minds of those who craft legislation, leaving us feeling like we don’t matter or have a say.
Many in my community remember not having the right to vote, and while we’ve come a long way in gaining that right, it doesn’t mean much if the ballot still doesn’t allow us to be heard, seen, or even thought of. It’s as if we’re just going through the motions, but this isn’t something I’ll stay silent about.
As Martin Luther King Jr. once said, “Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.”
The exterior of Mandy Hummer's previous home Nov. 6, 2024, at 514 W Main St. Muncie, Ind. She and her now-husband were evicted from the home in 2017 after living there for over 9 years. Jessica Velez, Ball Bearings
BY MACI HOSKINS
“Is this the rock bottom people talk about? Is there more to this? Do we go farther?” Mandy Hummer says.
In 2017, Mandy fell asleep on the front porch of the home from which she had just been evicted. After nine years of living in the house, she and her then-boyfriend found themselves without a place to sleep at night.
This experience is a reality for many Muncie residents.
According to the Indiana Housing and Community Development Authority, there were 4,854 people experiencing homelessness on Jan. 25, 2024, in every county in the state besides Marion. This number is a 19% increase from the 2023 report. Of the 4,854 individuals experiencing homelessness on Jan. 25, 3,346 were sheltered, meaning that they were staying in emergency shelters or transitional housing.
Nearly 25% of the 4,854 people experiencing homelessness were unsheltered. In Muncie, unsheltered populations have several nonprofit resource options including Muncie Mission, A Better Way, YWCA, and several faithbased ministries.
year,” Leigh says.
Exact counts of Muncie’s homeless population can be challenging to estimate, but Vice President of Community Engagement at Muncie Mission Leigh Edwards comments that her non-profit may be feeding anywhere from 200 to 250 people per day between their men’s shelter and daily community lunch programs.
“We fed, I think, 80,000 meals last
Shepherd’s and
Pastor Joseph Romero Jr., Founder of Shepherd’s Hearts and Hands Ministry, finds Muncie to be in need of “urban missionaries.” He describes this term as individuals helping others who may be unable to utilize other community resources like temporary or transitional housing.
“
Vice President of Community Engagement at Muncie Mission
” WE SERVE A POPULATION THAT IS NOT BLACK AND WHITE, IT'S VERY GRAY. -LEIGH EDWARDS,
Pastor Joseph explains being an urban missionary takes many forms — whether it’s setting up tent encampments in the woods, delivering meals, or being a life
Individuals may be unable to access community resources due to previous criminal charges or lack of essential documentation, Pastor Joseph explains.
‘I’m charges
“I just got done rescuing a woman who was hanging out in the parking lot where the YWCA is. She said they don’t want her there. The Lord put it back on my heart to go check on her, and I told her ‘I’m going to get you a tent,’” says Pastor Joseph.
Pastor Joseph’s downtown ministry focuses on helping the individuals who don’t qualify for care at Muncie’s larger non-profits.
Other individuals may choose to remain unsheltered due to a multitude of reasons, including owning a pet.
black and
“You and I are not black and white, we are gray,” says Leigh. “... We serve a population that is not black and white, it’s very gray.”
The gray space
In 2016, Mandy and her then-boyfriend were in the midst of a 17-year struggle with addiction. Mandy describes their lives as “functional” addicts, as they “kind of held it together.”
After 11 years of believing she was unable to give birth, she had a son. At a doctor’s appointment following her son’s birth, she discovered she was four months pregnant with a second child.
“Of course, I just kind of freaked out a little bit. By this time, I was really in the depths of my addiction, and I had no idea how to parent myself, let alone two human beings,” Mandy says.
Three days after the birth of her second son, Mandy explains that the Indiana Department of Child Services (DCS) came to the hospital and removed her newborn son from her custody.
Twelve days later, DCS took her older son, then 19 months old.
“Whatever symbols of normalcy at that point that we had maintained was out the window,” Mandy says. “... What do you do when you spiral into the deepest depression of your life, being mentally ill and chronically dependent on drugs?”
27.7% Live below the poverty line
Mandy and her then-boyfriend didn’t pay their mortgage and “let everything go” as they struggled to cope with the loss of their sons.
After being evicted, they found themselves searching for shelter for the next eight months, until able to move in with a family member. During this time, they did not reach out to any resources in the community.
Mandy recalls being told by DCS to go to Meridian Health Services and “get sober.” However, Mandy is from Richmond, Ind., and has no family in the area.
$43, 507 Median household income in Muncie $69,477 Indiana’s average household income
She also explains that she and her boyfriend could not go through the six-week program simultaneously, due to rules within the program regarding couples. Mandy did not want to split with the father of her children, which prevented both of them from using the Meridian services.
Source: 2023 Census Report
“All of these things [were] really working against us, and not one single time was [anything] mentioned about housing or how to get our kids back in [a] home together with us,” Mandy says.
Pastor Joseph finds that many couples are unable to get access to shelters, as all non-profit shelters in Muncie are either allmale or all-female.
“That is their issue, and that’s why they want the tent [to live in],”
Pastor Joseph says. “They don’t want to separate.”
Muncie Mission’s services include an emergency shelter, a prolonged recovery program and transitional housing. However, its shelter services are only available to men.
Pastor Joseph emphasizes the need for additional shelter space for women. Women in need of shelter must either go to A Better Way services or YWCA, both located in downtown Muncie.
Addressing the root
A Better Way only provides emergency shelter to survivors of domestic violence, while the YWCA offers a nightly shelter, as well as a 45-day shelter program. YWCA also includes second-stage housing, a more long-term option.
Mandy agrees that far too many individuals fall through the cracks of Muncie’s non-profits. She finds that each coalition has its own “niche,” leading them to be “siloed.”
She believes that simply placing individuals in housing is not enough and thinks people need to be taught how to take care of a house and learn to “be a person.”
Mandy finds that there is a stereotype that homelessness only manifests itself in people sleeping in tents. In reality, thousands of Muncie residents may only be a couple of paychecks from losing their living situation.
According to a report by the Center for Research on Inclusion & Social Policy at Indiana University (CRISP), chronic homelessness, or one or more consecutive years of homelessness, affected 715 individuals each night in Indiana — approximately 1 in 10 of the nightly unhoused population — in 2023.
Per ZillowRentals, the current average rent for a one-bedroom apartment in Muncie is $703 per month, which is $37 more than last year’s average. There are also a mere 60 reported currently available one-bedroom apartments as of Nov. 16.
According to the 2023 Census Report, 27.7% of Muncie residents live below the poverty line. This is more than double the average of Indiana residents, 12.3%, who live below the poverty line.
According to CRISP’s report, 47% of Indiana residents paid more than 30% of household gross income in rent and utilities in 2022.
The 2023 average median household income in Muncie was $43,507 compared to Indiana’s average of $69,477.
“Every landlord right now has the potential to be putting someone out on the street forever,” Pastor Joseph says. “... Nothing wrong with raising the rent, [but] there’s a right way and a wrong way to do it.”
These statistics combined with Muncie’s renter-heavy housing market create somewhat of a cycle, says Pastor Joseph.
The 2023 Census Report also reports that 47% of occupied housing units in Muncie are renter-occupied, compared to the Indiana average of 30%.
Additional data shows an “affordability concern” in all of Indiana’s housing market, as the state’s rent increased over 18% in 2023.
Leigh agrees that affordable housing in Muncie is “very scarce.” She also believes that the lack of affordable housing is an issue that affects every city across the country, not just Muncie.
Muncie Mission infrequently hits capacity and is prepared to “not turn people away,” helping to fill the gap of unavailable housing. Leigh explains that the Mission has a large “flex” room with available cots for when they are near capacity.
She claims that if someone had given her a house after she was evicted, she would’ve sold it and never would’ve been “saved.”
Mandy now refers to herself as “recovered, not recovering” following a near-fatal car crash with her then-boyfriend. This prompted her and her nowhusband to live for a purpose. her
Unfolding solutions
Mandy believes Muncie could more to solve its lack of affordable housing.
She says there should be a city-run or state-run program that credits landlords willing to partner with renters with parameters such as teaching renters to “really take care of a home.”
“I feel like some of this [lack of housing] would be helped and prevented if we just had these partnerships where people are holding hands with each other,” Mandy says. “... This is the community of people, where we’re going to teach you, instead of punish you.”
Mandy proposes that landlords be reimbursed for participating in a program that allows struggling individuals to learn life skills.
“
WHAT DO YOU DO WHEN YOU SPIRAL
-MANDY HUMMER, Muncie resident
INTO THE DEEPEST DEPRESSION OF YOUR LIFE, BEING MENTALLY ILL AND CHRONICALLY DEPENDENT ON DRUGS?
”
They then were able to move into a friend’s house via land contract, a form of seller financing, and begin their journey towards a better life, eventually paying the house off in 5 years.
They are now soon to purchase their second home, while planning to let another family purchase their current home via land contract. Both of their sons are back home, after Mandy and her husband regained custody less than a year after DCS’s intial removal.
Mandy now volunteers as a parental advocate for Indiana and pushes for accountability.
She also works at Muncie’s WorkOne office, an overarching place for the state to distribute grant funding for unemployment, and often sees citizens at
their lowest.
Still, Mandy finds the lack of housing the predominant issue. She explains that if ten people came to her and asked for food, gas, or bus passes, she could resolve that.
However, if ten people were without a place to sleep at night, she claims there is “nothing” she can do, even if they fit the qualifications for shelters.
Pastor Joseph believes a tent he assembled last year may have kept around 30 people alive in freezing temperatures, highlighting many citizens’ need for a roof over their heads.
“There’s just not enough vacancies. That’s the same problem we have here every
winter. All the shelters, all the residential programs, are full,” Pastor Joseph says.
However, he wishes encampments such as these aren’t necessary. He hopes charities in the future will collaborate and network with more organizations, even the smaller ministries in Muncie.
Pastor Joseph claims he was drawn to Muncie from his previous home in Central Florida to “actually solve homelessness.” He believes a shift in mindset will help accomplish this goal.
“We’re too quick to give up on people. Our tolerance towards difficult ones is an issue,” Pastor Joseph says.
Joseph Romero Jr., pastor and founder of Shepherd’s Hearts and Hands Ministry performs for a group of Muncie’s homeless. Joseph Romero Jr., Photo Provided
SUSPENDED
IN A SOCIETY THAT PRIZES CONFORMITY, WOMEN ARE SUBJECTED TO CENSORSHIP.
BY AALIYAH SANSONE
Women are placed on a paradoxical pedestal of unsupported expectations. Show some skin but not too much, otherwise you’re asking for it. Don’t show skin, and you’re a prude.
Assertiveness and ambition is encouraged yet condemned as bossiness, and the expectation of being taken seriously remains elusive.
Here is a reflection of how women are subjected to censorship and control, whether it’s through limitations on behavior or restrictions on bodily autonomy. Here, a woman is reduced to a mere spectacle — an object of voyeuristic gaze.
Unbeknownst, we too become participants in this cycle, layering our own judgments onto a taped-up figure on the wall.
Each opinion, command, and assumption—crafted by those oblivious to the complexities they impose.
AMERICAN WOMAN
by aaliyah sansone
In the backdrop of current American political discussions, particularly the looming threat to reproductive rights, a sense of apprehension for the future lingers.
This concern isn’t limited to my own circumstances as an American woman; it extends to the countless women in regions around the world who have grappled with systemic injustices for generations.
The multifaceted essence of womanhood, purity and resilience, juxtaposed by vitality and anger, serves as reflections of the female experience — periods, pregnancy, and the censorship over women’s bodies.
WOMEN’S ACCESS TO CHOICE IS AT A CROSSROADS.
PHOTO ESSAY
Lexie Huys, Ball Bearings
THREE WOMEN LEADERS IN MUNCIE ARE CHAMPIONING EMPOWERMENT AND CHANGE.
BY CRISTAL MARIANO-VARGAS
In the heart of Muncie, Indiana, three women leaders with divergent backgrounds are working to reshape their community and drive efforts to increase empowerment, equality, and growth for every woman at every level.
Serving others
WaTasha Barnes-Griffi n, CEO of YWCA Central Indiana, has positioned the organization as a driving force in the community. WaTasha’s approach to leadership is deeply personal and shaped by her own experiences.
She said her traits as a servant leader were infl uenced by the strong, matriarchal women she grew up amongst. WaTasha recalls growing up with her grandmother and aunts who were heavily involved in community service. These experiences help encourage her to pursue a career in giving back to her community.
“If you live in a community, you should serve that community,” WaTasha says.
This perspective has guided her efforts at the YWCA, where she prioritizes building an inclusive, collaborative environment that allows everyone to contribute and grow.
The YWCA, formerly known as the “Young Women’s Christian Association,” provides programs that are designed to help women navigate their careers and overcome systemic challenges, creating spaces where they can seek advice, share experiences, and develop the confi dence needed to advance in life.
According to the YWCA website, the association offers an emergency shelter for women and children that includes “wraparound services”, as well as education in fi nancial literacy, housing, and professional development.
The association also provides second-stage long-term housing, facility rental space, and a resale shop for their residents. The YWCA’s website emphasizes their comprehensive services impact hundreds of local families each year.
Through her mentorship, WaTasha has strived to give women the opportunity to gain access to the knowledge and perspectives of other established leaders, which can be transformative in building professional confidence and setting ambitious career goals.
IF YOU LIVE IN A COMMUNITY, YOU SHOULD SERVE THAT COMMUNITY.
–WATASHA BARNESGRIFFIN, CEO OF YWCA CENTRAL INDIANA
Investing in the future
Juli Metzger, a founding director of Ball State’s Unifi ed Media Lab and co-owner of The JMetzger Group, was raised by her mother, sisters, and grandmother in Muncie.
The connections she built with women during her childhood taught her the importance of representing women in the Muncie community.
“Strong women emulate strong women and that can start with family,” Juli says.
Juli started her career as a copy clerk pouring coffee and sorting mail at The Muncie Star, now known as The Star Press. Within six months of starting at the publication, she transitioned to the obit desk where she wrote obituaries until she was moved into feature writing.
While at The Muncie Star, Juli became the fi rst female police beat reporter in Muncie where she was specifi cally tasked with writing about police reports, crimes, and arrests.
As a founding director of Ball State University’s Unifi ed Media Lab, Juli says she wanted to foster an academic and practical learning environment where students — especially women — gain hands-on experience in media, build resilience in storytelling, and develop the confi dence to lead.
“The goal was to teach students cross-platform journalism. The best journalist knows how to practice in print, online, on radio, stream and over the air broadcasts. It was designed to be a place where students could learn from each other,” Juli says.
In 2011, Juli co-founded The JMetzger Group, a strategic communication company specializing in nonprofi ts. They publish magazines and books while working on messaging, advertising, and marketing for their clients. The JMetzger Group exemplifi es Juli’s belief in the power of effective communication and its potential to make a difference in the world.
The JMetzger Website highlights its goal to embrace the value of public relations, advertising, and marketing strategies to solve real-world problems.
She was recently recognized for her success when she was inducted into the Ball State University Journalism Hall of Fame.
This prestigious honor is a testament to her outstanding contributions to journalism and education. Juli’s legacy extends far beyond her work as a journalist and entrepreneur; it lies in her unwavering dedication to helping others succeed, especially women who may otherwise have been overlooked or underestimated.
“True leadership is empowering others to reach their full potential,” Juli says. “It’s about giving back and creating opportunities for the next generation.“
Paving her own path
Dorica Young-Watson holds many titles. She’s a social worker, certifi ed life coach, community advocate, owner of Own Your Change Coaching & Consulting, and she serves as the Director of Community Engagement at Open Door Health Services.
Born and raised in Muncie, Watson always sensed her capacity to lead but struggled with doubts and societal constraints that often discouraged her from claiming her ideas as her own.
“I lived a life of being too much for some and not enough for others,” Dorica says.
Dorica says she would downplay her accomplishments for years, crediting others instead of herself to avoid appearing as “too much”; It wasn’t until within the last 15 years that she fully embraced her leadership potential.
Watson’s journey to authentic self-expression was challenging, marked by instances where she allowed others to take the lead, even at her own expense. She has now reached a point where she values her voice and makes it a priority to show up as her full self.
“If I don’t show up for me, I’ll spend the rest of my life chasing people who don’t show up for me either,” Dorica says.
Her growth and inspiration for leading came from her daughter, realizing she was part of her legacy. It increased her want to lead by example and not allow outside voices to derail her.
As a leader, Dorica understands the specifi c challenges women face in leadership roles, especially in communities like Muncie, where traditional views about women’s capabilities can persist.
She notes that many women face “outdated views of what a woman can do” leading to exhausting cycles of proving their worth.
Dorica believes in creating spaces where women can share their ideas freely and be valued not for meeting quotas but for their contributions and perspectives.
Dorica hopes to leave an impact on Muncie by being someone for young people “who I needed for myself.” Her ultimate goal is to leave a legacy of empowerment, where she doesn’t just “take up space” but inspires others to create their own.
Passing the torch
According to the American Psychological Association, female leaders demonstrate more transformational leadership styles, and team collaboration is greatly improved by the presence of women’s workspaces.
However, despite the benefi ts, only 10% of Fortune 500 companies are led by women.
WaTasha, Juli, and Dorica share a common vision of empowering women and creating opportunities for them to succeed in Muncie. Their leadership journeys are all rooted in a deep commitment to community and a personal understanding of the challenges women face.
They are building a lasting legacy of empowerment for women in Muncie and beyond.
Illustration by Kelsey Collins
