Cardinal & Cream Spring 2019 by mariaksstudios

DAVID BURKE CELEBRATES 34 YEARS AT UNION

LOOKING STRAIGHT AHEAD: STUDENT USES CREATIVITY TO COPE WITH TREATMENT

MORE THAN CANCER: WOMENâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S BASKETBALL COACH IS MORE THAN HIS 600 WINS

BEYOND BASKETBALL

TA B L E O F C O N T E N TS

42 16 03

LETTER FROM THE EDITOR

EDITORIAL BOARD AND STAFF

LOOKING STRAIGHT AHEAD DAVID BURKE CELEBRATES 34 YEARS AT UNION

HEROES NEED HELP SPIDER-MAN, THE AVENGERS, AND HOW MOVIES REFLECT THE STRUGGLES OF OUR GENERATION

BEYOND BASKETBALL WOMEN’S BASKETBALL COACH CAMPBELL IS MORE THAN HIS 600 WINS

THE SILENCE THAT SETTLES

HYMNS OR HILLSONG? REFLECTING ON WORSHIP IN THE 21ST CENTURY

LIKE AIR

HALFWAY THERE

MORE THAN CANCER: STUDENT USES CREATIVITY TO COPE WITH TREATMENT

LEARNING TO LOSE

UNION STUDENTS AS ULTIMATE FIGHTERS

RUMORS CONFIRMED: EXCITING CHANGES TO COME FOR UNION’S FITNESS CENTER

CURDLED

SEARCHING FOR THE PUZZLE PIECES:

A CONVERSATION WITH TRICIA CARRIER ABOUT LAUNCHING INTO THE NEXT SEASON

56 ENNEAGRAM PANEL

JUST LET ME DO IT:

GLADYS KIPCHUMBA PURSUES HER PASSION THROUGH RUNNING

LETTER from t h e e d i t o r It’s late Thursday afternoon. The sky is clear and growing gold and pink from the sun that for some reason seems larger than usual, making the 53 degree air feel warmer than it should. I’m by myself. It’s quiet. Most of the campus has finished for the day.

I stroll past the dorms, where I’ve moved in three times and where I’ve worked as a Resident Advisor and Resident Staff Advisor for two years. Past the Logos that officially opened when I was still a dual enrollment student here. Past Jennings Hall, where I’ve taken more classes and worked on more projects than anywhere else on campus. Past the bell tower where my parents and I stood to watch the fireworks one family weekend. Past the baseball field where I spent quite a bit of time freshman year, working on my sports writing for Cardinal & Cream. Past the parking lot in front of The Fred where I boarded a bus with over 40 students and faculty to begin a 10-day trip to Israel. Past the red swing hanging from a tree outside Brewer Dining Hall on which my three roommates and I posed for one of our first pictures together. None of us said it, but we were all thinking the same thing. Can it get any better than this? The Cardinal & Cream editorial staff is proud to share with the Union community stories of triumph and change, of celebrating 600 wins and saying goodbye to a 34-year career, of conquering cancer and reconnecting with dad after a long period of estrangement, of learning aspects of personality that can put language and color to direction and purpose, and of sketching blueprints for a dream.

vision and anticipation for the next four years. I felt it. I think Rachel felt it too. So did our parents: they did an exceptional job of being excited with us, all while knowing they would drive home that night without us. After an introduction, Dr. Oliver approached the stage wearing a red bow-tie and a broad smile. He addressed the audience of parents and students and siblings with a warm, “Welcome to Union University!” Toward the end of his speech, he said, “Many well-meaning people will tell you these next four years are going to be the best time of your life.” He went on to say that while it was true we would have a unique and rare combination of community, resources, and opportunities available to us, and while it was our responsibility to take full advantage of that, every season of life could be the best — not just this one. Every season is a gift from God and can therefore be the best, always. Now and next and whatever comes after that. It’s a matter of perspective. It’s a balance of remembering not to forget while hoping audaciously for the future that is both unseen and uncertain. The challenge is to always believe the best is yet to come and to also believe the best is right here. We’re perpetually in a place of reaching back, reaching forward, taking deep breaths, paying attention to the afternoon sun on our faces, and realizing that today’s sun is different from all the others.

At the beginning of my freshman year, I sat at a table eating breakfast in the Carl Grant Event Center with my roommate Rachel and our families. We’d just moved in and would say goodbye to our parents and siblings that evening. The room vibrated with the energy and excitement of fresh 3

EDITORIAL BOARD AND STAFF TED KLUCK

d a n i e l pat t e r s o n

Faculty Advisor

Fiction Writer

aaron hardin

randall kendrick

Faculty Advisor

Essay Contributor

k at i e c h a p p e l l

M A R I A S T E WA RT

Poet

Lead Designer

j o s h u a m ay s

e m i ly d r o s t

Poet

Assistant Designer & Illustrator

j. c l a r k h u b ba r d

ta m a r a f r i e s e n

suzanne rhodes

ca m p b e l l pa d g e t t

au st i n m a d d ox

A&E EDITOR

PHOTO EDITOR

NEWS EDITOR

PHOTOGRAPHER

FEATURES EDITOR

Michael Chapman

LIZ CALDWELL

B R E N T WA L K E R

M AT TA N A H D E W I T T

SPORTS EDITOR

ASSISTANT EDITOR

MANAGING EDITOR

EDITOR-IN-CHIEF

VOLUME 103

ISSUE 02

P O L I C Y: The Cardinal & Cream is a bi-annual student run publication. Perspectives are the opinions of their creators, not the staff of Union University. The Cardinal & Cream is a member of the Southeast Journalism Conference, Tennessee Press Association, UWIRE, and the Baptist Press Collegiate Journalism Conference.

looking straight ahead D AV I D B U R K E C E L E B R AT E S 3 4 Y E A R S AT U N I O N

WRITTEN BY LIZ CALDWELL | PHOTOGRAPHED BY CAMPBELL PADGETT

“So I’m laying there, early dawn. I’m on a pallet on the floor, stripped naked in a sleeping bag, and I hear a noise at the door. All of a sudden the door just comes flying off the hinges and three guys come in wearing--I’ll never forget it--they’re wearing orange day-glo hunting hats and plaid jackets. One comes to me, just right up to me, and he puts a gun right my face and he says, ‘Please move you little M-F, I can blow your G-D head off.’” I only asked about a wooden sign on his office wall. The room was organized chaos, a treasure trove of collections: pins from all over the country were stuck in a bulletin board on the wall; a bowl packed full of matchbooks (over 5,000 to be exact) sat on top of a bookshelf; the light blue paint of the office displayed pictures, trophies, pictures of trophies (barbeque trophies), costume trinkets, and the iconic comedy and tragedy theatre masks. It was all neatly, aesthetically placed. The office itself was a collage, a work of art. And against the wall, cornered up to his desk, stood a bookshelf that reached the ceiling, stacked high with the 75 different plays David Burke has directed while at Union. Burke did not get shot. However, he did get arrested for possession of marijuana with intent to deliver (although, it was not his and he was not aware it was there). “A week before this happens, oddly enough, I’m walking on the streets in Idaho, and a guy comes up to me and gives me a New Testament. He says, ‘You need to read

this.’ So I’ve got this Bible. I hadn’t really looked at it, but I had it in my possession. You give all your possessions to the jail. The deputy said, ‘Boy, what are you doing with a Bible?’ and the sheriff said, ‘Let’s let him keep that, it might do him some good.’ So, I go into jail with the Bible.” Five days later, he is dismissed from court with a warning and a call on his heart. Growing up as a “hippy child” in the 60s, becoming professor and director of Union’s theatre department was not in David Burke’s plan. “I was a product of the 60s. I was involved heavily in drugs and alcohol, and I fell off the deep end. But God talked me out of that.” Years later, Burke ends up at Union. “It’s a unique story. Looking back on it, it was quite divine intervention,” Burke said referring to how he ever came. Dr. Barefoot, the vice president at the time, received Burke’s resume in the mail and called him shortly afterward. Burke interviewed that Friday morning. By Friday afternoon, he was offered the job. Though it may have been divine intervention, it wasn’t easy at first. “I’m always in hot water with Union it seems like for shows or whatever,” he laughed. “There was a critic for the Jackson Sun who would write a review of [the play]

after Thursday night opening. Friday morning, it would be in the paper. When I came, the woman who did that was named Delores Ballard. When I first came here, she would write scathing reviews. People wouldn’t come the first weekend; they would wait and read the review and then they would come the second weekend just to see how bad it was.” However, in one play, all of that changed. “The Elephant Man,” he said. He described the moment, one that I felt like was something out of a movie. Or a play of a play. Like the mini play in Hamlet or the entire show The Bachelor--something staged on a stage. But it wasn’t. No one staged what happened in the audience. During a scene in The Elephant Man, the main character is beaten to the ground by a police officer with a billy club. Burke’s cast was so fantastic that a woman in the front row forgot she was in a play. In the middle of the scene, she got out of her seat and knelt down to help the elephant man. “Afterward, I’m standing at the doors, and making a beeline straight to me was Delores Ballard. Tears were pouring down her face and she said, ‘I know I probably shouldn’t be talking to you because I’m going to write a review, but I want you to know I’ve never seen a play like this in Jackson. I’m going to go and write my review, and I’m going to beg people to come to the show.’ Something changed and the show sold out from that night on. I think it had a real impact on the school.”

He doesn’t talk to the students like they are his inferiors, he talks to them like a fun uncle. He leads rather than commands. His students respect him, get along with him, laugh with him. I observed exactly the relationship one would expect a mentor to have with his students: a deep bond, bound by endless hours spent together and a mutual trust, a shared goal, a joyfulness in the craft. Like coaches with their olympic athletes, piano teachers with their prodigy recitalists. There is joy, passion, excitement, and craze coursing through the moist air of the theatre room and anyone can feel it. It feels right. Ian Malone, a senior creative writing major and theatre kid, talked to me about his relationship with Burke. “I’ve known Mr. Burke since I was five years old. I did a monologue for him my sophomore year for a Shakespeare class. He immediately said, ‘You need to try out for the play.’ And that’s how I got involved in theatre. I guess if he had an influence on me, it’s that I’ve been doing that ever since. Theatre has become a huge part of my college life. He gave me a lot of confidence. He was so immediately like, ‘You’re good at this, go do this

It’s nearly impossible to change a critic’s mind. And there is no worse critic than ourselves. And trusting ourselves to do what we were created to do is hard. Burke told me when he came to Union he had very little acting experience. “I would watch rehearsal, and I would find myself looking over my shoulder for the adult supervisor who really knew what they were doing. But one day, I looked over my shoulder and I got this sense that said, ‘Guess what? You are the adult supervisor.’ So, I quit looking over my shoulder.” Burke has been looking straight ahead for 34 years. In the theatre room, there is constant laughter. Someone plays the piano while students rehearse. He climbs up into a dark abyss of an attic in the costume closet to find a police hat for me when I needed one for a photo shoot. He offers me a fake gun, a badge, and a police jacket to wear in a cover photo for the online Cardinal & Cream article, “Along For The Ride: Riding Across Campus With Safety And Security.”

more.’ I wasn’t really a confident person, but that really helped.” “Fast forward to why I’m leaving now,” Burke said, reluctantly. “I had open bypass surgery last March where I could have been--should have been--dead. So, I’m laying in the hospital, praying and trying to figure out what’s going to happen next, and I clearly felt like God was saying, ‘Let someone else have it for a while.’” But that wasn’t the only thing Burke realized while he was in the hospital. “I felt like God was saying, ‘Chronicle your near-death experiences.’ I started writing and I discovered eight neardeath experiences I’ve had in my life, so now I’ve written them all down. I’m grappling with them because they deal with fear... The first thing God showed me is you learn to fear God, or you’ll be afraid of everything else. His message to those who fear Him--it’s amazing-- do you know what His message is? Fear not… So I’m going to see where [writing] will take me.” Throughout our two hour conversation, I learned a lot about David Burke. I learned how valuable he is to the school, the students, the community. I learned about his heart, his passion, his compassion for others. I put in a small effort to sit down for an interview and I found genuine friendship. He says he is not a writer, although I do not agree with him. There is too much passion. He doesn’t call himself an artist, which proves that he is. He doesn’t admit he will be hard to replace, but he will be. He says he looks forward to slowing down, but I know he won’t. “I grew up in the printing business.” “I’m one of twelve children.” “I do a lot of carpentry. I had a carpentry business.” “My wife and I want to keep travelling all over the country like we did years ago.” “I built that.” “I like to refurbish old furniture, I might do stuff with that.” “I was in an art show last year, I’m going to be in another this year.” “My daughter saw a painting she wanted in Kirklands, but I just went home and built a frame, stretched a canvas, and painted it for her myself. I might keep doing that.” “I might still come on and help teach every once in a while or direct a play. We will see.” “You won’t be bored,” I said. “No,” he grinned, “No, I will not be bored.” 10

Heroes Need Help: S P I D E R - M A N , T H E AV E N G E R S , A N D H O W M O V I E S R E F L E C T T H E S T R U G G L E S O F O U R G E N E R AT I O N

WRITTEN BY RANDALL KENDRICK | ILLUSTRATED BY MARIA STEWART AND TAMARA FRIESEN

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-verse begins with SpiderMan swinging around in a city washed in golden sunlight as he says with exasperation, “Let’s do this one last time.” The rest of his monologue is a brief explanation of the Spider-Man backstory we all know by heart. After boasting of his achievements and swinging past the tallest skyscrapers, he gives the camera a wink and proclaims, “The only thing standing between this city and oblivion is me. There’s only one Spider-Man, and you’re looking at him.” We then immediately cut to a boy scrambling to get ready for class. His name is Miles Morales, the main character of the story, and he will soon get spider-powers of his own. Both times as I watched this movie in the theater, I was floored by this cut in the opening scene. It was a strong juxtaposition that spoke to me as someone who grew up in a generation where we were told we were special. Growing up, our parents, teachers and authority figures all held us up as indispensable. We all had special gifts that were going to make us rise to the top. There was no one like us. We also had movies to reinforce this idea. Whether it was Harry Potter, the Star Wars prequels, or (my favorite movie as a teenager) The Matrix, the popular movies of the time were about heroes predestined to single-handedly change the fate of the world. I think as kids and teenagers, we genuinely believed this idea. I know I did. It’s hard to admit, because it seems so asinine now, but as a teen I had plenty of fantastical,

unrealistic goals that I believed would change the world. Like everyone said, I was special, right? There was no one else like me. Like Neo from The Matrix, I was the hero of my story. However, despite good intentions, I don’t think anyone could have predicted the fallout of that mindset. In the past few years, we’ve seen individuals who disregard all reason, advice, and outside viewpoints as they declare their opinions to be correct. It’s caused extremism on all sides of every issue in our culture, and has divided us as a country. We’ve ultimately seen the idea that you’re special, or that you hold knowledge or abilities that no one else does, create delusional people who rage against all peace. I’ve personally grown up and realized that, no, I’m not as special as I was told. There are people just like me, and there are people who are better than me in every way. I’m definitely not the hero of this complex, sprawling narrative, and I’ll be lucky if I become anything more than a background extra. As I have reflected on my own mindset, the stories that I grew up with about chosen heroes have fallen out of favor. I’ve grown tired of movies about chosen heroes, not just because it’s an overused trope, but because it reminds me of the way I used to be. I think I share this growing distaste with most of the movie-going public. As we enter the close of the decade, the trend of the chosen hero has started to die off.

Earlier this decade, we had an explosion of young adult novels being turned into movies, all about a special hero changing the world by themselves. By the middle of the decade, people were sick of The Hunger Games. Other franchises with similar plots like Maze Runner and Divergent struggled to make a buck at the box office by their third installments. The last movie that marketed itself in this vein, Mortal Engines, was one of the biggest box-office bombs of 2018. Conversely, the movies that we see succeeding financially and becoming the most popular are not movies about lone heroes, but movies about heroes teaming up to defeat a threat bigger than any of them. The obvious example here is the Marvel Cinematic Universe, which spawned the biggest box office earners of the decade with the three Avengers films. In the midst of cultural turmoil, Marvel movies have been a uniting force for many people, and that’s reflected in the stories themselves. Avengers: Infinity War is the biggest Marvel team-up movie ever. Ten years of films lead up to it with dozens of movies introducing many individual heroes into a universe that would eventually come together to fight the biggest threat yet, Thanos. Thanos is a delusional narcissist who believes the key to ending overpopulation is mass genocide. He believes he is the hero who will save the world, and he believes he will be worshipped as a god for doing so. His logic isn’t totally sound, and people try to object to his plan along the way, but their voices don’t matter because he’s dead set on accomplishing his goal. In a time when our nation is shattered because of extremists on every side of culture, the biggest movie of the decade is about people coming together to fight a delusional titan that believes he will save the world. It mirrors my own generation’s struggle, not only to unify under our shared values, but to vanquish the delusions of grandeur that we grew up with. It’s been a personal goal of mine over the past year to listen to others with sincerity. It’s a difficult, but necessary practice in subduing your own intentions and halting your own internal objections so you can truly understand someone else. Even if you don’t agree, at the end of the day you can hopefully shake hands with each other in mutual understanding of your shared values. The tone of our culture has shifted. None of us wants to be the chosen hero that solves the world’s problems, or even one that bears the weight of our own problems

alone. We’ve realized that our problems are too big for us to face alone. This shift of tone is reflected in SpiderMan: Into the Spider-Verse. The film follows multiple Spider-Men (and a Spider-Woman… and a Spider-Pig) as they all meet each other through converging dimensions. The protagonist of the story, Miles, is the runt of the pack. All of the other Spider-Men have extensive experience with their powers, and have overcome many struggles. However, for Miles, the powers are new, and so are the struggles that come with them. He doesn’t know how to deal with the problems that come with his new identity. In one of the best scenes of the movie, as Miles struggles to control his newfound powers and deals with the familial struggles that come with keeping it a secret, the other Spider-Men reassure him. Every other SpiderMan in Miles’ cramped dorm room has gone through exactly what he has. Miles is comforted in the moment as he realizes he doesn’t not have to struggle alone. The truth is that being special comes with a lot of weight. It comes with loneliness, and it comes with struggles you will have to face by yourself because no one else can face them with you. However, surrounding yourself with others like you can alleviate the burden of that struggle. It’s reassuring to know others have gone through what you have, and will lend a helping hand. As I’ve grown older, I’ve realized that it’s better to be a normal person who can be helped than a special person who no one can understand or relate to. I think my generation has also been realizing that. We’re done focusing on our differences in an effort to appear special, and we’re now striving to come together by focusing on our commonalities. Focusing on the things we have in common means we will be able to rely on the strength of unity to carry us through everyday struggles. In Spider-Verse, the strength of unity is what prevails through struggle in the end. In the film’s closing scene, Miles Morales, now in control of his powers thanks to the guidance of his spider-friends, effortlessly swings through the evening city sky. Right now, we’re Miles as he struggles to swing, but hopefully, in time, we can soar through the air as we achieve the unity portrayed in the movies we love.

Beyond Basketball WOMEN’S BASKETBALL COACH MARK CAMPBELL IS MORE THAN HIS 600 WINS

WRITTEN BY MICHAEL CHAPMAN | PHOTOGRAPHED BY ALEX RUSSELL AND KRISTI WOODY

“If I thought winning was the goal I would have retired,” Mark Campbell said when asked about his team’s loss earlier that day. Campbell is the head coach of the Union University women’s basketball team, and the March 15 loss eliminated his team from the NCAA Division II National Tournament in the first round. The Lady Bulldogs’ fouryear starting point guard Jada Perkins missed the game with an injury, starting forward Kennedy Childers had gone down just before the conference tournament, and Campbell had every reason to be frustrated. Instead he cited the relationships formed within the team as his end goal for coaching. “When relationships are the most important thing… it never disappoints,” he went on to say. “There’s only going to be one team that wins the last game over the next two weeks, and if I define success by that then I’m going to be a really disappointed person the rest of my life.” The irony: Campbell is one of the best winners in the history of college basketball. On January 10, Union beat Auburn University at Montgomery 43-40, pushing the Lady Bulldogs to 14-1 on the season and giving Campbell his 600th victory in his 20 year career with Union.

Only 72 coaches in women’s college basketball history at any level have reached that milestone, and Campbell did it faster than any of them. Campbell accomplished the feat in just 691 career games, passing Nancy Fahey’s record of 706. Campbell even reached the milestone quicker than household names such as Geno Auriemma (716 games) and Pat Summit (734 games). The 600th win for a college basketball coach is the first milestone that has its own Wikipedia page and the last one until win 1000. Campbell’s 600th win also comes in his first year eligible for the NCAA record books (by rule, one must coach for five seasons in the NCAA), and Union only made the switch to Division II in 2014-15. Campbell and Auriemma are the only two on the list to average at least 30 wins per season, an almost unfathomable pace for a career spanning two decades. Less than two weeks before the end of the season, I visited the team’s final practice before the Gulf South Conference tournament. The practice is run like one I’d expect from someone who has won as much as he has, even if he says that’s not the end goal. During defensive reps, Campbell has his practice players emulate UWA’s motion offense, and as far as I can tell not one mistake covering it goes unnoticed. “Dent has 29 assists in 28 games! Why were you guarding her like that?” “Why did you run toward your man if you knew you were switching to the roller?” “They’re not shooters! You don’t have to be up on them that far out!”

Campbell also has clear philosophies on how to coach his team. It resonates with his assistants, and he trusts them to deal with players on that level. Throughout the practice even student assistants communicate with players between reps things they did wrong and, more importantly, how they can do it better. Make no mistake: Campbell has the attention of the gym the entire practice, but he allows his assistants the freedom to do the coaching too. It becomes evident quickly that Campbell’s relational philosophy manifests itself even on the practice court. Watching Campbell communicate with his players is like watching John Stockton run an offense. Here’s the thing about Stockton: he’s underrated because he played with Karl Malone and people don’t understand that he’d probably be the all-time assist leader regardless of who his teammates were. He wasn’t flashy; he simply understood the game itself and his own teammates well enough to rack up 15+ assists in a given game. He knew where each teammate liked the ball, and he knew exactly how to manipulate the defense to get it there for him. So, people walked away from his games not in awe of how he dominated, but instead with a healthy, intuitive understanding that he had just had a huge impact on the game. Campbell’s individualized communication with his players is very similar: if you’re not paying attention, you’ll only notice conversations with players like Morgan Martin about big-picture, conceptual things, and all the while he’s having dozens of one-on-one interactions with other players because that’s what suits their personalities best to set them up for success. Campbell’s made a career of developing relationships with players that go beyond the basketball court, and that shows itself when he interacts with them even in practice. “Everyday I’m reminded by him whether it’s intentionally or not what my main purpose in coaching is,” assistant coach Sara Hammond said. “It’s all about relationships. If you don’t have relationships with your athletes, you’re never going to have success because that’s our nature as human beings; we want to have connection with people.”

Two years ago, former Division I stand out Kyvin Goodin-Rogers had no intention of ever playing the sport she loved again after a former coach’s negligence in dealing with her knee injury. When Goodin-Rogers arrived on Union’s campus, she wasn’t even watching basketball on TV. She had become bitter toward the game that had been her escape from the world as a kid and had gotten her into school as an adult. Before Union, Goodin-Rogers gave up the game she loved for a grudge she couldn’t stand to bear.

“Every time [Campbell and I] would talk about it, he would ask, ‘do you forgive?’” Goodin-Rogers said. “I realized that was my whole problem. I had to forgive.” In late February during the 2017-18 season, Campbell baptized Goodin-Rogers in Pensacola, Florida, during a road trip against West Florida. “I always say, ‘[Campbell’s] the GOAT,’” GoodinRogers said. “Every time I say it he runs away because he doesn’t want to be put on a pedestal. But I promise you, he’s the GOAT.”

The Silence That Settles WRITTEN BY DANIEL PATTERSON | ILLUSTRATED BY TAMARA FRIESEN

The fireplace really isn’t that warm, she had said earlier. I think of it now, wondering if the flames will abate before my eyes. I’ll call the repairman tomorrow, have him take a look. We sit opposite, both of our heads uncomfortably turned in the direction of the waning fire. Neither of us wants to look at each other, or we do and we’re just scared to. I can’t tell which it is. She glances at me, for a second, and looks away. I should have said something by now, broken the silence. Her glass is almost empty. My chance. Want some more? Sure, why not? She holds the glass in the air like I’m a waiter, and when I take it our fingers brush. I jerk at the cold feel of her skin, though I like the way it felt. I pour the wine in the kitchen, think to bring a blanket because the fireplace is more concrete logs than anything. Thanks. The blanket is still in my hand after she has the glass; it sticks out like a splintered bone, hangs there like a child wanting to be noticed. She half smiles, takes it in her hand and scoots a little. She’s making room for me, but all I can think about is the silence and it being worse if I sit next to her. I stand there, looking at her. The stillness is screaming at me. I glance at the fireplace mantel, see how sad it looks. It almost frowns at me. I’m going to check the line for the fire. Outside. Okay. I head outside. I don’t care for my jacket, wanting to shiver. If I make myself cold, then I will have to get under the blanket with her. But I hope she isn’t there when I come back inside. I hope she sneaks out. There isn’t a gas line, not out in the back. I stand outside, hiding from the view of the window, and stare into the darkness. I’m looking for something, I think, though I’m not sure what it is. I wish I knew, I wish it would be out in the night, shining. It could be dim. I could see it even if it were just a little dim. There’s a toy truck in the yard. Its yellow paint gleams in the night. I pick it up and hurl it, wondering how I missed it. I thought all of the toys were in the trash. I’m back inside. She’s still here, under the blanket, glass almost empty. She smiles at me, waiting for me to say something. And I should. I’m cold, want to join her on the couch, but I sit on the chair opposite, once again. She swirls the last of her drink, lets it smear the sides of the glass, and I catch sight of her face. Her smile is fading. I should try to say something, but the silence is becoming my blanket. I stare at the barren mantel, wonder what I should put up there, and let the silence hang.

Hymns or Hillsong? REFLECTING ON WORSHIP IN THE 21ST CENTURY WRITTEN BY AUSTIN MADDOX PHOTOGRAPHED BY TAMARA FRIESEN

Imagine. You’re sitting in a church. It’s your first Sunday in Jackson after arriving at Union University. The worship leader takes the stage, begins to strum his guitar and sing: Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound That saved a wretch like me! I once was lost, but now I’m found Was blind but now I see! Up to this moment, what is your thought? I love this beautiful hymn! Gosh, what a magnificent piece of art that has lasted throughout the ages and led thousands in worship! Or… This is alright, but man, I just really love some Elevation. I could go for some “O Come to the Altar” right about now. But then, a sudden change in the chord progression and the bearded man in a rolled-sleeve flannel with a forearm tattoo peeking out begins to sing: My chains are gone! I’ve been set free! My God my Savior has ransomed me And like a flood, His mercy reigns Unending love, amazing Grace! Enter a full band, blue lights, and a distracting screen saver of a twinkling cross behind the lyrics. Congratulations John Newton, your hymn has been Tomlin’fied. 24

Traditional or contemporary? That is probably one of the first questions many people ask when considering a new church. Of course, that question can mean anything from appropriate attire for Sunday morning attendance to whether the carpet is still a greenish color from 1982. However, most of the time it is in reference to the worship style. Drums or organ? Full band or choir? Hymns or Hillsong? This timeworn conversation dates back to when Jesusloving hippies first brought their guitars into congregations in the 60s and since then, many churches have had to discuss the musical direction in which their flock was going to move in the coming years. Sometimes these conversations may have been more harmful to the unity of the church than beneficial, causing churches to become disunified, unhealthy, and even lead to a split. Why though? What does it matter if we sing from a hymnal or an album? Why does the presence of a choir make some unengaged, while others can’t stand the sound and sight of a guy with a manbun banging on a drum set? What does it look like to sing to and gaze upon the beauty of the Lord? More broadly stated, what is worship? Worship, as defined by Louie Giglio, pastor of Passion City Church in Atlanta, Georgia, is “our response, both personal and corporate, to God for who He is, and what He has done; expressed

in and by the things we say and the way we live.” Worship is more than music. It is more than some songs we sing in chapel, a hymn led by a choir, or a band at a Christian conference. In this definition, worship is a lifestyle. It is a state that believers in Christ are to reside in constantly, admiring the glory of God and His love for us, both in our personal lives and corporately as the church. “All forms of worship must be done for the sake of edification,” Cody Curtis, professor of music at Union University and founder of the Psallos worship project, said. “Whether it is worshipping through music, fellowship, or hearing the proclamation of [God’s] word, let everything be done to edify people.” While it may be true that worship is intended to be a constant in the lives of Christians, there is no doubt that music has a powerful way of leading us to a place of reverence, awe, and love of our God, His character, and what He has done for us. Some may claim that because of this, traditional hymns and accompaniment are better rooted in theology and doctrine, therefore allow congregations to focus more on who they are singing about rather than being distracted by the search of an “experience.” Others, however, may argue that contemporary styles of worship allow them to better commune with God and sing to him rather than about Him. Whatever side of the

argument churchgoers may land on, however, a problem occurs when we allow our worship music preference to interfere with our communion with other believers and even God Himself. “If we are going to be people who truly desire to make God’s name famous, then we have to be willing to set aside our preferences,” said Corinne Olund, senior public relations major. Music is a gift. A glorious gift I might add, but just like many of the good gifts that God has given us, they can often become idols or distractions. The Apostle Paul in his letter to the Romans even reminds us that it is bad news when we begin to worship created things over the Creator himself (Romans 1:25). “Music itself is not what we worship, and it is not the point of commonality that unifies a church,” said Melody Curtis, wife of Cody Curtis who is also active in the worship ministry of Psallos. What should unify a church is the message of the Gospel and the mission to share that with the world. As soon as we cease worshipping our Lord because of the type of music that is being played, we are sinning. Does that mean we are not allowed to have preferences or tastes in the particular style of worship that we like? Not at all. Contrarily, I believe that the fact that we have different opinions, styles, likes, and dislikes in life, especially in worship music, demonstrates that God has created us to be unique and that is to be celebrated by the church. John Piper, author, pastor, and founder of Desiring God puts it this way in regard to differences in worship styles:

“We will hopefully be able to affirm all that is good in both cultures, to find a way both to ‘be ourselves’ (which is partly inevitable) and be what we need to be to honor the excellence and truth and beauty of God, and to reach out to all the kinds of people God is calling us to touch.” Piper ends this by saying that this will be an ongoing process, meaning it is not something that will be figured out overnight, and grace should be shown to yourself and others during the process. Worship is more than a service and song. It goes beyond the organ or the drums. It means more than our musical preference. It is to take place outside of Sunday morning or Wednesday night. Whether we are walking to class, enjoying a meal, strolling around campus on a sunny afternoon, or spending time with close friends, worship is to be the position of our hearts. As Colossians 3:17 says, “And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.” And if on Sunday morning, you find yourself at your local church and you’re told to open up the dusty hymnal in the back of the pew in front of you, or if the worship leaders pull out the fog machine and synthesizer, I would encourage you to not shut down, disengage, and daydream about lunch. Intentionally seek to worship God, commune with Him, and glorify Him. “Give praise to the LORD, proclaim his name; make known among the nations what he has done” (Psalm 105:1).

Like Air WRITTEN BY KATIE CHAPPELL | ILLUSTRATED BY EMILY DROST

for Plath

“Is this life or is this death? / Life out of death.” – Christina Rossetti, Goblin Market

Out of the ash, she rises like Ariel with reclaimed voice or that high and mighty phoenix, Queen Elizabeth I. The black letters on the grainy paper sizzle—burning embers, left behind by that fiery bird reincarnated. Rebirth is what she searched for in life; In death, we give her resurrection. The Lady of Shalott re-emerges from her tomb’s tower each time we read her poems. Cursed in life, disgraced by shallow men, she lives inside her pyramidal tomb, Colossus3, resurrected at the cracking of its spine. The Lady Lazarus resides inside her sarcophagus, awaiting incantations of death and morbid recollections— rising out of the inky ash on the page—a Medusa, hair hissing, eyes gleaming. Despair cuts through the viewer. Readers turn to stone, consumed by flames of scarlet snakes who spit out spent desire as they strike the heart.

halfway there WRITTEN AND PHOTOGRAPHED BY CAMPBELL PADGETT

It was not some heroic feat of self-control like it often is in movies. It also wasn’t a heart-warming turn of events. It was a facesaving decision to reconnect with my dad. And thank God for my oh-so-vulnerable ego. My wife wanted to help. He had seemed to turn his life around and had other people reconnecting. Yet here I was, on Natchez Trace, dragging my infantile heels and avoiding the real problem. I realized I was acting like someone that I’d hate for Joy to be married to. For me, that is the most convincing argument to change something. So, like all generations of men before me, I made a choice to look better in front of a woman. Come Christmas time we are in Atlanta with my paternal grandparents. “He goes by Pat now,” my grandfather mentions. It wasn’t like he was trying to coerce me to see him, he was hardly suggesting it, but the thought came to me again. To change your name and to try and disassociate yourself from past actions implies some kind of shame. Perhaps he is different. Joy goes on further and says that even if there is no change, the act of reaching out would mean

something transformative in myself and is therefore good in and of itself. So we make that Saturday trip to Nashville, expecting nothing, but anxious of everything. It’s as though I’ve skipped eight chapters and landed in the last third of the book. He is talking, quickly, sporadically even, to Joy. I am trying to act human in a Cheesecake Factory (an impossible feat). He’s in his same ball cap, same jacket, same intensity, but all I can see is his skin and his hair. I see decay that aging brings us all. The aging that I know is real but that I don’t really believe will ever happen. His eyes are now several trenches deeper than I remember. Will my eyes do the same retreat? It’s only just now occurring to me that he may be a vision of how I will look at 50. He was recently sent to the hospital for blood clots in his lungs, thighs, and chest. A 50/50 chance he won. But, his liver sucks, his heart sucks. Occasionally, I wonder if it’s a matter of time. Later, he offhandedly tells me about his own father’s deteriorating health. In true Padgett fashion, he is acting aloof and joking about this thing that clearly is upsetting him rather than plainly

stating his own emotional turbulence. This is perhaps the only time in my life where I could plausibly say, “I know how you feel.” He’s also shorter than me. That isn’t a health concern, just something I would’ve never imagined as a kid. He runs several halfway houses for addicts to get a 2nd chance (or 5th, or 6th) on life. Poetic justice is real, I suppose. I’ve met some of the men who live there. Sitting on the porch with them as they talk about looking for work. The porch is filled with smoke (almost no former addicts will refuse tobacco). They are peaceful, raunchy, fractured, but above all they are hilarious. Whether you’re an ex-con or a minister’s wife, they will make you laugh. I cannot repeat any jokes here, simply take my word for it. Almost all of them have come out of prison and have come out as distinctly

different people than when they went in. It’s fascinating to see how reliant they’ve become on my dad. I meet my dad’s wife and step-daughter and tour their cute home. Joy looks at my new step-mom while I look at my new 7-year-old step-sister. Her name is Emalee. They both seem totally content with their lives. I don’t understand how this is happening. The man I knew was shackled to something that swallowed him and everything that ever mattered to him. Now, he travels across the country picking up the very people we have all been told not to pick up on the side of the road. This isn’t merely a rebound, this is Apollo 13. And, you know, it wasn’t entirely his fault. Many things went very wrong for him. Many within but

some without of his control. Addiction is not a problem, it’s a solution. A very bad solution, but a solution to an ambient pain and sense of emptiness. Much of his dreams and aspirations were bent back or entirely undermined by responsibilities, sudden unfair twists-of-fate, accidents, and the ever tragic lack of knowing how little time one has. Imagine the various things that make your life bearable. Now take them away for somewhat arbitrary reasons. Who wouldn’t want some anesthesia? It seems to me that the true difference between the two of us is misfortune. I married the right crowd and the profoundly right person. I was befriended by the right people. I was given a mentor that showed me a way out of nihilism. I had the benefit of seeing him fail. I’m not living in Gary, IN. Contrast that with the fact that no one ever told him “no” at key moments or provided an example of how bad things could get. My mistakes were carefully corrected, his were ignored.

It is still true that he was the source of his behaviors. And for that, he will hold onto guilt and will be without many memories that could’ve amplified the value of his life. In that way, it’s more tragedy than “just desserts.” Even the most hardened among us were once just children. Was he ever truly cognisant of what he was doing to himself? Did he ever really know what he was playing with? Does anyone? How many 2nd chances (or 5th, or 6th) have we all been unknowingly given? Wind the clock back for anyone and you inevitably find an adolescent who is about to unknowingly face numerous misfortunes only to be spared by some overseer. When I think back, there are numerous bullets that were supposed to hit me, but didn’t. Why didn’t they? Why did they hit dad? Why are some people just more fortunate than others? It is his birthday, and we are coming over to see him. He is 51. I am sitting with my wife, and he is sitting with his. I notice little Emalee’s face in the bright

glow of an iPhone. I had thought going into this that I would be seeing a parallel between Joy and myself with Dad and Katelyn. But it is me and Emalee. The eldest, and now, the youngest. And what different worlds we inhabit. She has only known “Pat” as a caring and calm figure. One that saves people from their addictions and who remains a stable force in her life. In fact, she will only ever know him as this. If I tried to explain my experience, she would be totally confused. Though I think I can forgive, I’ve never thought I could forget. But then, in this moment watching Emalee, it occured to me that my memories mean nothing. Good memories are kept for sentimental value. Bad memories are kept to give context to future behavior or decisions. But if someone has radically changed, what is the utility in a bad memory? It only causes distress. And as far as conscious experience is concerned, as far as what it feels like to recall a memory, there is no difference between a bad memory and a daydream. If I were distressed by a daydream, I would be afraid of something that isn’t real. What exactly makes a bad memory real? Joy and I drive with Emalee in the back seat. I can overhear them playing a makeup game on her phone. I’m not sure how to think or feel. I keep picking up on their whispered conversation and see the bright colors of yellow and white in the nighttime drive. I wonder if this is what it will feel like when I have a kid in the backseat. I hope that I can become like Emalee. That I can one day reach her awareness and be taught by her example. That I can lose the flashes of memory from years past and be part of the here and the now.

More Than Cancer: S T U D E N T U S E S C R E AT I V I T Y T O C O P E W I T H T R E AT M E N T

WRITTEN BY BRENT WALKER | PHOTOGRAPHED BY CAMPBELL PADGETT

“Let me show you my Crocs,” Rachel Mihalko said, pointing down at the panda, mermaid, duck, and various other charms sticking through the holes of her turquoisecolored shoes. “I did one for each week of treatment. It was just something that made me happy, something to look forward to in the midst of all these terrible things. They make me happy.” Mihalko, a sophomore at Union, was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s lymphoma, a type of blood cancer affecting the lymph nodes, at the end of her freshman year. Although she did not have many of the traditional symptoms, she became concerned after finding an unusual bump on her neck the week before finals and texted her dad, a doctor, who told her to wait until she got home. “The night I got home, he just knew,” Mihalko said. “He knew I needed to be seen like yesterday.” Within days, she had an appointment with her dad’s colleague, saw a primary care doctor, had an MRI and visited an oncologist at West Clinic in Memphis, where a surgical biopsy confirmed that she had cancer. A PET scan revealed that she was in stage two, which meant that there were multiple enlarged lymph nodes above her diaphragm – one under her arm, one on her neck and one over her heart.

For Mihalko, the most difficult part was breaking the news to her siblings. “I remember leaving after one of my appointments. I remember going home and we sat down with my siblings and we told them. Just the looks on their faces – my sister, she just cried. It was hard. I think I tend to think about others more, especially because I’m so protective of my siblings. I think seeing their reactions made it more real because you’re still processing it. I’m still processing it, like you kind of get in survival mode and you don’t know exactly what even just happened.” Things moved quickly after her diagnosis, and she began an eight-week chemotherapy treatment about four days after the biopsy. Her course of treatment prevented her from returning to school in the fall, and taking a semester off wasn’t easy. “We were hoping I would only have to do the four chemos and I would be back for the semester,” Mihalko said. “I’m driven, I’m a hard worker, I’m like ‘I’m not going to miss school. I can’t miss school.’ It was really hard when I found out.” Although a scan after her first four rounds of chemo revealed that her cancer was almost completely gone and she was technically in remission, her doctor wanted to do four more rounds to ensure that it would go away.

“The last four were probably the hardest,” Mihalko said. “It just takes such a toll on your body, and you just feel terrible all the time. Even though it was good news, I was just so upset. I was so broken over not being back at school, not being with my friends because they’re my support system.”

was driving around Memphis and taking pictures of over 20 different churches around the city.

HoJung Eum, Mihalko’s roommate, was the first person she told about the bump on her neck. At first, Eum couldn’t believe it and thought that she was joking. But when she found out about her best friend’s diagnosis, her faith was shaken.

Writing poetry also brought her comfort. Pouring her heart out in poem after poem, she wrote about the pain that left her broken, the loneliness that consumed her, the fear that crippled her and the time that slipped away. As we talked under the dim light of the coffee shop, she offered to read me one of her favorites.

“When I heard that it was cancer, I hated God for a little bit,” Eum said. “I said I wasn’t going to believe in God. Not in like totally turning back, but it was just kind of the way I felt because Rachel is one of my most important friends at Union. She has been a big part of my college. I really need her to be here.” While at home undergoing treatment, Mihalko turned to creative outlets, including watercolors, acrylics and photography. One activity that she particularly enjoyed

“It made me feel safe,” Mihalko said. “It was something that was consistent and that was there and that wouldn’t change while everything around me was changing.”

“These days I live in fear. Sometimes my heart beats a little faster or my body moves a little slower and I panic because what if something is wrong. I can’t go back to that place.” “Some of it’s kind of dark because what I went through was kind of dark,” Mihalko said. “And that’s perfectly okay,” I said.

“That’s what I want people to know,” she exclaimed with a huge smile on her face. “It’s okay. Whatever you’re feeling, whatever you’re going through, whatever’s happening, it’s okay to feel the way you’re feeling. I want people to feel validated in whatever they’re going through because I had trouble being validated.” Mihalko’s treatment plan consisted of one week of chemotherapy and one week of rest, so she often felt good one week and awful the next. Building relationships became crucial for her. Many of her friends from church were home from college during the summer and were able to reconnect with her, while others came to chemo with her. “After everything that I’ve been through, I just see the value in building relationships,” Mihalko said. “I want a purpose in everything that I do, and I feel like that’s just one of the big reasons why we’re here, just building relationships, building connections.” Mihalko clung to Scripture, writing Bible verses on notecards and bringing them with her to doctor’s appointments and having them in her pocket during surgery. Yet, she still wrestled with the Lord and struggled to understand His purpose. “You don’t hear that it’s okay to struggle with the Lord,” Mihalko said. “You don’t hear that it’s okay to be angry, but that’s a human emotion and that’s a relationship that we have. You’re going to have ups and downs, and that’s just something that I’m trying to come to terms with now, that the Lord was there even though it didn’t feel like it and that I’m going to feel Him again soon.” Her trials taught her to realize the importance in everything, even the things that feel mundane like going to class and doing schoolwork.

“I just want to do what I’m passionate about,” she said. “It’s hard, and I’m trying to find ways to still do things intentionally and still feel like I have a purpose in the midst of things that don’t feel as important.” A four-week radiation treatment followed chemo and concluded the week after Thanksgiving. That same week, she found out that she had gone into remission. Although patients aren’t considered cancer-free until a few years later when it’s even less likely to come back, those with Hodgkin’s have a 90% chance of staying in remission. However, while the odds are good, Mihalko still wrestled with how to move forward. “With everything hitting you at once, it was kind of like ‘Okay, I spent so much time doing this. What do I do now?’ I still had a few months of just like not really having anything else scheduled… There’s so much fear in it coming back. I’m trying not to live in that. I’m trying to live in the 90%, not the 10%. That’s definitely the hardest part of remission. It’s not what I thought it would be. I think more down the road I’ll be able to celebrate it more, but I’m still processing everything.” Now that she has returned to school, her biggest fear is of people looking at her differently. More than anything, she wants people to know that cancer does not define her. “I don’t ever want to be known as the cancer girl,” Mihalko said. “I am so much more than that. I’m not what I’ve been through, even though I’ve been through a lot. I’m a girl who got cancer, but I’m also a girl who loves to paint, wants to invest in deeper relationships, enjoys writing and poetry and most importantly loves the Lord.”

Learning To Lose WRITTEN BY J. CLARK HUBBARD | PHOTOGRAPHED BY CAMPBELL PADGETT

I believe that my personal idolatry started in first grade, at a church. It was the Middle Tennessee Homeschool Spelling Bee, and I had just misspelled “saint,” as I had misheard the pronouncer, and proceeded to spell (correctly) the word “sate.” I lost, and while I don’t remember it, the pictures I have of the event show that I cried: eyes red, cheeks puffy, etc. From this point on until I lost in the Scripps National Spelling bee in 2010, my eighth grade year, I studied incessantly, poring over the approximately 1,150 words in the Spell It! booklet, as

well as any other lists of commonly included words I could get my hands on. I had several books written by past spelling bee champions that taught me all of the tips and tricks of spelling, a mother who devoted way too much time to helping me prepare, and a deep-seated fear of losing planted at the core of my being. Even with all of this, I lost in 2010, tying for 49th at the 83rd Annual bee. I filled this desire to win in high school with schoolwork. Throughout high school, I would redo any school work on which

I got an 89 or worse. If I can’t get an A on this first chapter, then how will I do any better on future chapters? The only lesson I could learn from failures in high school was: do better. I did end up with two B’s (chemistry and Spanish), but thanks to dual enrollment classes, finished high school with a weighted GPA of 4.02. This meant I was a winner. And then I started college. The first blow to my self-worth came semester one, where I managed an 89.4 in Comparative politics––a class that I really had no business being in as a freshman––resulting in a B. My first Christmas in college was overshadowed by a dark cloud that spelled out “You can never get your 4.0 back.” I recognize how immature this disappointment was, but at the time it felt like the end of a successful undergraduate career. Then I debated. My freshman year, I got second place season-long to a debater named Gabbie Swain, a master’s candidate debating in the novice division. No matter how good you are at debating, you will always lose. There might be a tournament where you win first place speaker and win the tournament overall, but you’ll still get your ballots back and see that for some reason, the judge in round two liked the way your opponent was dressed more than you, and voted for them, ruining your perfect tournament. The spring semester of my junior year, I decided to make a more conscious effort to learn how to lose, to accept criticism. I had decided to drop debate for my senior year, meaning this was my last semester. With this in mind, I did my best to actually enjoy debating, to lean into the joy that can come from deconstructing arguments and forming counter-arguments. Then I joined improv. For the four years of college, improv has been my solace and resting place. No matter the problems of the week––academic, relational, mental, etc.––I am only an improviser twice a week for a set amount of time. With improv, you either have a good practice, or you don’t. You have a good show, or not. You have a good year, or a bad one. In improv, just like in any other art form––yes, improv is an art form––the artist can find themself in a rut. Maybe they stick to their “bag of tricks,” always having the same voice and/or mannerisms, never branching out, or don’t know when to end a scene. Worst of all, maybe they don’t think they can contribute in any way, and just stand at the back for the whole show, unsure of themselves as an improviser.

scene, flowing through the game in a strange comedic nirvana. And that’s when I feel alive. Then I wrote. For my first two years in Cardinal & Cream, I had several stories that were unpublishable, either due to my content or tone. It hurts to be told that you can’t share something that you’ve written, and it hurts even more to be told that multiple times. When I began editing for The Torch––the student literary journal––I submitted short stories under a fake name, as I was scared that people wouldn’t like them. The short stories were literally laughed at, something that would have been entirely prohibitable if I wouldn’t have been so scared of criticism. And then, I applied to graduate school. I believe that all of the failures of my first seven semesters were leading to this final semester of senior year, the semester where I have only seen doors shutting at graduate programs that I once daydreamed I would go to. Professors that I wanted to study fiction with decided I didn’t make the cut for their university. Programs in states that I wanted to move to said they were full. Rejection email after rejection email piled up in my inbox: “Dear Clark, we regret to inform… this email should not discourage you from writing...but we only have a limited number of slots... Kindest regards…” It’s brutal to be torn down in that way after writing seriously for the past three and a half years, but it’s also been good for me. Because of these rejections, my family and friends have surrounded me with encouragement, assuring me that my not getting into a graduate program is not a reflection of who I am. Now I am excited for post-graduate life with my beautiful wife, Abbey, and look forward to teaching high school English and/or Civics while I study for the GRE and LSAT, and continue to write and read. I have had a lot of gods in twenty-three years of life. This is partially due to the American culture which praises nearly everything and encourages its citizens to find purpose in something not ethereal. David Foster Wallace––in his speech “This Is Water”––says that the point of a liberal arts education is so that “you get to decide what to worship.” When you train yourself through the four years of an undergraduate education, you can choose to worship GPA, successful improv scenes, easily won debates, etc. But you can also realize that this sort of self-centered worship is problematic, and won’t lead to anything good. You can realize that it’s good to lose. And you’ll be happier for that.

As I grew as an improviser, I realized that the most fun I could have was in letting myself go in a way, just becoming a part of a scene. If I can let go of my fear, especially the fear of criticism, then my improvisation is markedly better. I can be a part of a

Union Students As U lt i m at e F i g h t e rs WRITTEN BY J. CLARK HUBBARD | ILLUSTRATED BY TAMARA FRIESEN

In a very strange alternate universe, Union students are the subject of a popular fighting video game. We have compiled their strengths and weaknesses, as well as some of their likenesses, in this piece. BIOLOGY Strength: More “one with nature” than any other major Weakness: Probably have to see a lot of animal private parts BUSINESS Strength: Can sell anything to anyone, capable of amassing much wealth Weakness: Matthew 16:26 COMMUNICATION ARTS Strength: Public speaking Weakness: Nothing to say ENGLISH Strength: Able to incorporate phallic and yonic imagery into any conversation Weakness: Physical appearance FRENCH Strength: Can properly pronounce “baguette,” “coup,” and even “cul-de-sac” Weakness: Their real power comes from cigarettes, which they must not partake of during their time at Union HISTORY Strength: Knows the past so well that they are able to deconstruct modern cultural mythologies and teach those around them Weakness: The job market

MUSIC Strength: Can sing or play instruments well Weakness: Apparently cannot stop singing or playing instruments NURSING Strength: Cannot be seen or found unless they so wish Weakness: Caffeine PEWS Strength: Very good at walking Weakness: Very bad at eating nachos, pizza, and other foods that taste good POLITICAL SCIENCE Strength: They can discuss flat tax, the electoral college, and the supreme court with ease Weakness: They can only discuss flat tax, the electoral college, and the supreme court PSYCHOLOGY Strength: Can summon the ghosts of Freud and Jung at any time Weakness: Quis psycholiget ipsos psycholiges?

Rumors Confirmed:

EXCITING CHANGES TO COME FOR UNION’S FITNESS CENTER WRITTEN BY SUZANNE RHODES | PHOTOGRAPHS COURTESY OF TAMARA FRIESEN AND KRISTI WOODY

Being an overly insecure exerciser with great ambitions of getting in shape, I’ve become a master at knowing the right times to walk into Union’s fitness center to do my feeble elliptical workout. I’ve made the mistake of walking into an insanely packed gym with students and athletes who are intimidatingly more fit than I am, and I swore I would never live through that horror ever again. Even though I knew I wasn’t about to work out, I walked into the fitness center to interview Jonny Wilson, Union University’s director for campus recreation, and was immediately filled with anxiety as I saw a tiny room completely crammed with athletes, students and faculty attempting to exercise. With every new year at Union University, there always comes new changes. Whether it looks like a new club, a renovated commons area (one without dog-chewed furniture), or a new chapel attendance app (#teamTealPass or #teamSpotterApp), this university is always improving the campus. With that comes some exciting plans for the future of student health and fitness. In the works is a new and improved Union University fitness center, one with enough space to do as many lunges, deadlifts and running as our hearts desire without the constant worry of not having enough room or equipment. “My vision for the new space just really involves a healthier campus,” Wilson said.

I sat in Wilson’s dimly-lit office with his graduate assistant, Bennett Wilson, who was virtually hidden behind the multitude of boxes that were slowly overtaking the room. With the loud sound of a packed gym in the background, Wilson laid out their current blueprints for the brand-new fitness center, one that includes a rockclimbing wall, a section of turf flooring and new equipment accessible for people with mobility restrictions. The new space will be split up into multiple sections: a 3000 square foot cardio section, a 1500 square foot machine section and a 3000 square foot multipurpose space. “Every section of space is basically going to be bigger than the size of the [current] gym we have right here,” said Wilson. Within the multipurpose space are ropes hanging from the ceiling, barbells that can be moved, large tractor tires that can be flipped across the back floor, a 750 square foot turf floor, sleds, battleropes and wall balls, and much more. In this section, there will also be an 18-feet-tall, double-sided weight lifting rig with multiple pull-up bars, gymnastic rings, and racks for performing squats, bench presses, deadlifts, and Olympic lifts. Near the massive renovated locker rooms that have showers, bathrooms, and plenty of changing space is a walled-in studio built for yoga, Pure Barre, dance and spin classes. Wilson’s goal is that these classes will be taught by student workers and offered to

students for free, and this space is equipped with new spin bikes that have consoles to track your records and wheels to move your bike in and out of the studio space. Towards the back of the gym is a section dedicated to members of our student and community populations with mobility restrictions, and Wilson says he is excited about this area because it takes away the barriers the current gym has for some students who want to enjoy the wellness center. Along with an athletic training center that is connected to the Fred Delay gym, providing athletes a direct access from the training room to practice, there will also be a rock-climbing wall near the front of the gym. This bouldering wall would allow climbers to not be confined to one specific track, so in other words, people would have the freedom of climbing anywhere on the wall that they desire. As the interview continued and the vibration of heavy weights being dropped shook the floors, Wilson said the new gym would have specially-made, thick rubber flooring that will create virtually no sound or vibration from anywhere in the gym (something for which those studying in the Writing Center can be very thankful). Though the plans and space have been approved for the new fitness center, a specific timeline is not 48

guaranteed for this project, and it has many students anxiously waiting for improvements. “I feel like I would be [at the gym] more often if it wasn’t small, and if it looked like the rest of campusit just doesn’t fit the rest of the campus’s atmosphere,” said Alex Evans, a freshman worship leadership major. “It would be really nice to have a space where you not only can work out and get in shape, but also to have a space that looks interesting and creative.” Tori Kersey, a sophomore social work major and student worker for the fitness center, said she sits at the desk and sees people walk into the gym with wide eyes, overwhelmed by all the sports teams and students crowded together, and turn around to walk right out. “It makes me so sad, especially when some students can only work out at a certain time of day and cannot afford to have a gym membership somewhere else,” Kersey said. Wilson said he has big hopes for this new fitness center and wants students to start getting excited and asking questions about this space. “Right now, we’re basing our movement on donor possibilities, and that has not been as productive as we wanted it to be,” Wilson said. “But I think when students get involved, stuff happens.”

Curdled WRITTEN BY JOSHUA MAYS ILLUSTRATED BY EMILY DROST

Jacob’s ladder of feathers And heaving bodies Shaking and corn-starved White wings against A plastic-figurine-away-in-a-manger-baby-jesus blue sky Spiraling specks to cluster and go Each drip and crackle of ice an incantation Each fleshy goose neck an incarnation What is taken away is more important than what is given I can see a goose struggling on the ice. It is separate from the rest. I cannot quite make out its eyes. I rest my hands on the fence post and wonder if––in his eyes–– I would see fear or the calm apathy of an animal brain. The grass is dry. It has been that way for weeks now. It looks bitterly on at the scene and is shaken into a death rattle by the wind. The goose dies there on the ice. The universe is coagulating Like buttermilk settling at the bottom of a bowl

Searching For The Puzzle Pieces: A C O N V E R S AT I O N W I T H T R I C I A C A R R I E R ABOUT LAUNCHING INTO THE NEXT SEASON

WRITTEN AND PHOTOGRAPHED BY MATTANAH DEWITT

Tricia Carrier sits across from me in a quiet corner of her living room where the radiant afternoon sunlight streams through the large, paned window to my right. The warm tea she offered me steeps atop the substantial wooden coffee table, and the gentle, steady breathing of the family’s dark brown lab, Moose, provides a welcome rhythm for our conversation. Tricia is a steadfast follower of Jesus, the bride of Bryan Carrier (Union’s VP of Student Life and Dean of Students), and the devoted mom of Clayton (9th grade) and Trent (7th grade), who love all things sports and outdoor fun. As relational leaders, Bryan and Tricia have hosted, mentored, and lived with college students “in the trenches,” while faithfully investing in their peers and colleagues. They’ve learned that interruption is their ministry and have made relational stewardship the overarching precept of their personal and professional lives. A note to you, dear reader, about Tricia Carrier. Though this cannot be conveyed sufficiently in a written transcript, everything she says, she says smiling. TRICIA CARRIER: I like to hear the sound of writing. You don’t hear that much anymore. MATTANAH DEWITT: I love it too! I think I probably go through a journal and several felt-tip pens every two months. I’ve tried to go completely digital but it’s just not the same. So first off, can you tell me about your background and the story of what brought you to Jackson? TC: I grew up in Wichita, Kansas. I went to college in Kansas City, and that’s where I met Bryan, who is from the St. Louis area. We married and then spent about eight years in Chicago before going to central Missouri for a couple years. Bryan wanted to stay in higher ed and needed a terminal degree to do that. I have a lot of experience

in office administration, so that was how we put Bryan through school or made extra money. (I still work a few part-time jobs.) The perfect storm at the time would’ve been a new job and an opportunity for a degree for him at the same institution, so we were willing to go wherever that led. Anyway, the Lord led us to this place called Union University. We were preparing to come to campus in February 2008 for a job interview, but that didn’t happen because of the tornado. Despite that, the Lord worked out a lot of details, and Bryan was still able to come here, not knowing anybody, just by saying, “I have vacation days if you want me to come help, no strings attached.” So he came. For a week, he helped and still fell in love with the people and place of Union. We really, really wanted it to work out, prayed to that end, and the Lord answered that prayer and brought us to Union in June 2008.

MD: So you were planning to come to Union, then the tornado happened — how did you both process and work through the unexpected and the potential changes in those pivotal life plans?

MD: Definitely! A minute ago, you mentioned falling in love not only with the people of Union, but also the place. How do you keep loving a particular place when it’s uncomfortable or when it’s not long-term?

TC: Girl, that was a long time ago. I think one of the things I’ve learned over the years is that, in regard to God’s will, people pray for a formula. But it’s not about a formula. It’s about a Person. People so much want a linear equation, and that’s typically not how the Lord works. When making decisions, it’s a Person you need to be listening to and resonating with, not searching for unknown puzzle pieces to fit your idea of the perfect plan.

TC: You know Paul talks about learning to be content. Not just being content. Learning to wait well is something that takes time, because you don’t just… wait well. We live in a drive-through society. I’m a doer. It’s hard for me to wait well, but there’s so much you can do in the waiting that’s making you ready and available to launch when it’s go time.

When we were in Chicago, our pastor there taught us a lot about discerning God’s will, and the reality that God’s will is love God, love others. Not what house you buy, where you work, that kind of thing. I think we were able to trust the unknown journey because we understood that Union wasn’t our answer. We just felt that all of it lined up with the person of Jesus leading us – and He is the answer. If that makes sense?

That doesn’t mean it’s fun. It may be monotonous. But I’ve learned the process of trusting the Lord. I can’t trust Him if I don’t know Him. Scripture tells us time and time again how we’re to remember not to forget, and so I just think the more times I do it the more I remember and experience that He’s got me, that He’s got this process. That for whatever reason I’m being refined in fire, but I trust the waiting because I trust Him. And again, it’s not a formula — it’s a Person.

I’ve done it wrong many times. That’s how I know. I’ve experienced it both the right and the wrong way. I’ve not perfected it, but I think on the journey to the heart of God, I’ve been able to just rest more, because I trust more, because I know more, because it’s Him. It’s not a puzzle piece that people are looking for – it’s a Person. The book of Job is full of Job questioning God. Well, at the end of the book, God finally showed up and talked to Job, but he never answered those questions. We understand what Job was going through because we get the little prelude in the front. Job had no idea of any of that, and at the end Job was never told. What I love from learning that is it’s ok to ask God hard questions, but just like Job, His answer was and is Himself. We have to stop saying, “I am going to do this or that” and start focusing on who He is — ‘I Am’ — our answer, our everything. It’s a relationship…it’s a relationship. MD: Wow. That’s so rich. TC: It takes the pressure off of finding the perfect puzzle piece! MD: So speaking of being content and doing things that aren’t always fun…can we talk about the farm? You mentioned to me at one point — very graciously, I might add — that you don’t prefer animals. TC: So I never had a pet growing up. I had a fish one time that I won during a fun night at school, and I brought it home in a plastic bag. It actually lived long enough for me to convince my parents I needed an aquarium, and the only reason we did that was because it didn’t have fur and I didn’t really have to do much. I just was never around animals. They terrified me. Especially dogs. They were just so sniffy. So unpredictable!

Then I married Bryan, who loves anything outdoors. It’s a place of refuge for him. We didn’t have that the first 10 years of marriage, you know, being in the city, in subdivisions. But I could tell Bryan just needed to be in God’s outdoor cathedral.

do that work. You can’t be responsible for the other person, but relational stewardship would try.

So for me, the preference may not be animals, and now I’m cleaning a chicken coop and birthing goats. But I’ve just learned that the joy and the peace and the refuge it gives to my husband is so much more rich and deep and meaningful to me than not having that. It may not have been my preference, but now I would never give it up.

TC: Yes… So I’m a year older. We met through a mutual friend who was even a year older than me. I called my friend and said I needed someone with a truck to help me move my couch. He said, “Sure, I’ll grab a buddy with a truck.” And Bryan was the buddy with the truck. He helped us move out, then it was summer. That was back before all the technology, and there wasn’t much keeping in touch. But I thought about him that summer. When I came back, he was in ResLife and I was in student government — so we were able to spend time together before classes started.

He knows it’s a labor of love for me and not a preference, so he’s so good about loving me in other ways. It’s a compromise for both of us, but just seeing the joy and the beauty of what others appreciate makes it so worth it to let go of the way we think things need to be. That’s relational stewardship. MD: Can you give the backstory on that phrase? TC: Yes. Relational stewardship is a phrase that Bryan coined. I’d just been kind of pouring my heart out to him — what’s felt like a lifetime of pent-up thoughts. I had these ideas, I needed to put it on paper, and I was just looking for a word/phrase to better explain my thoughts. He said, “Well, it sounds like relational stewardship.” I have chewed on that nugget for a while now. Side note, nuggets of truth is something that I love to say all the time. I feel like it started with my daddy. He’d always give me little nuggets for the day, and so my goal — someday — I’m gonna write a book called Nuggets of Truth. Maybe this is it. Maybe you’ll write it for me. But anyway, as soon as Bryan gave me that phrase, I just had to chew on it. To me, this defines loving God and loving others. Stewardship, by definition, is wise care over the resources you’ve been given. So many times, we think about it financially or in regard to time management, but really it’s being able to press pause and care for people in your sphere of influence. It’s also about having conversations that aren’t easy. Romans 12 says, “As much as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.” If you have a relationship that needs some repair, relational stewardship would

MD: Can you tell the story of how you and Dean Carrier met?

MD: I’d never heard that story before! You’ve both had a ton of experience as relational leaders, investing in and caring for people from many different walks of life. What are your thoughts on boundaries, in the context of relational stewardship? TC: Hm. My parents used to say, “Listen to your Holy Spirit beeper.” It might sound silly for me to say that. My kids are like “Mooommmm. Holy Spirit beeper. Really?” But there are some times when you just have to be quiet enough and at rest enough to listen. We get so focused on agendas, to-do lists, the next step. We get to where we halfheartedly go through things and we’re just not pausing. There’s no margin for any interruption or any listening. The Holy Spirit will show you boundaries in different situations, “YOU NEED TO SAY NO!” But then when you ignore that and you say yes to everything, you’re not giving your best to anybody. So press pause and check your spirit before you just jump into anything. I’ve learned over the years, to have a 24 hour rule for decisions. There’s nothing magical about 24 hours, except that it causes me to stop and not just say, “Sure, sounds great!” I may have time, but just because there’s a need doesn’t mean I’m supposed to fill it. And I don’t know that if I don’t first press pause and filter the decision through God’s word, prayer, wise counsel, and peace. We have to consider our motives — why we do the things we do and who we do them for.

ERIN SLATER

RACHEL KANGAS

As I walk briskly from Heritage to meet someone at Cobo, I think to myself...Oh gosh, I hope I’m not late. I don’t want them to think I am being disrespectful of them or their time. On the way I see some trash and think, I should pick that up.

As a Two on the Enneagram, my basic desire is to be loved/worthy, and my basic fear is to be unworthy of being loved. While I know there are many facets of my personality, I see this one play out in my life often. One way I’ve seen this happen is in my involvement in Residence Life. I became a Resident Advisor my sophomore year because I loved the idea of getting to know a relatively diverse group of people, learning how to care for others better, and being cared for by a team of people doing the same thing. What I did not anticipate was my serious lack of knowledge in how to have healthy boundaries.

*picks up trash.* I better get that other piece too. *picks up trash.* Oh man, I see like 100 pieces of trash, and now I feel responsible to pick it ALL up! But I really have to get to this meeting. But who’s going to pick it up? Somebody has to. I can’t spend all day doing this. I’ll get the things that only require me to get off the path just 3-5 steps or so. Man, quit being lazy. I’ll get some more on the way back. *feels guilty for not getting it ALL right now.* The inner critic has different intensities, but there is always something to improve, to work on, or to do better. There is always an awareness of wanting to do the right things, at the right time, for the right reasons, with the right motives in nearly every area of life. It never rests.

My desire to feel loved and worthy of my job often took the front seat and drove me to overextend myself relationally, emotionally, and logistically. As a returning RA, I have learned more and more about finding my identity in Christ alone, not in my job or relationships. Learning these things has led me to feel so much more fulfilled in my desire to be loved which has in turn taught me how to love others more effectively.

N AT H A N H E AT H E R LY R U T H I E J O W H I T E

A type Three is mostly called an achiever or the performer. I am very focused on accomplishments and success. Threes tend to have their identities closely tied to what they achieve and what others perceive of them. This external validation that feeds the need for worth is the core of the type Three. Threes are very goal and task oriented and can be perceived as heartless and focused when in the middle of trying to complete a task. When I am in the middle of attempting to complete a job, I get tunnel vision and I only see what is in front of me. I will be in the middle of throwing pottery or setting up for an event and I will not really be paying attention to what is around me, only getting the job done. With the success-oriented attitude, a Three’s greatest fear is being worthless. As a Three, I identify with wanting to feel valued and performing in many ways to get those around me to see that value.

I decided to play the harp when I was nine years old simply because I wanted to. It has been my life ever since. When I found out about the Enneagram a couple years ago, I realized that my choice to play the harp was drastically influenced by my strong internal motivation to feel unique and worthy. As a Four, I always felt like I didn’t belong. Being the third child out of four didn’t help those feelings either. I have one of the most godly, loving families on the planet, but I still felt like a bird trapped in a cage—misunderstood and unable to fly. Choosing probably THE most extra, heaviest, most expensive, and most attention-getting instrument was my silent attempt to really be heard, accepted, loved, and admired. I was drawn to the harp because it was stunning, rare, and always wanted, and that’s all I ever wanted to be.

grant wise

I think it’s no surprise that as a Five personality type I ended up majoring in engineering. I have always had this strong desire to understand why things work and solve problems. This passion has led me to become heavily engrossed in science and hobbies over the years, such as meteorology, rocketry, and electronics. My personality is one that randomly gets infatuated with a certain topic, and then spends way too much time researching and learning about it. Often I get lost in thought or observation just processing my surroundings and trying to analyze them. This certainly has its ups and downs though. Learning to correctly prioritize the things I devote my time to is a challenge. Fives are known for their focus of attention that inadvertently serves to distract them from the most pressing practical problems. I’ve had to learn that not everything requires intense analysis, and one can easily overthink basic everyday events.

julie bradfield

When I’m going on a trip, preparation is key. Planning for a trip involves not just what I will be doing and where I will be going, but all the things that might happen, things I might do, places I might go, how the weather might be, and what I might need for any of those many possibilities. Add traveling overseas to the equation and all the things I might need or that might go wrong really add up. And when it’s an international GO Trip and students are traveling with me, the need to prepare goes to a whole new level. Being prepared means thinking through the potential threats, challenges, and obstacles. I can easily be tempted to wonder how I can be a responsible leader if I’m not prepared for any and every possibility. If I’m not careful, thinking through all the possibilities can lead to worry and anxiety, but on the flipside, it can help me, and others, be prepared to tackle things that might come our way. Being a “threat forecaster,” as my friend calls it, can be a real asset as long as it is ultimately rooted and grounded in trust in God.

stephen neu

Over the past nine months, I have had a lot of change. Shortly after graduating from Union, I got married to my wonderful wife, Ashleigh. We moved into an apartment and began our lives as post graduates. While we said that we were going to wait a year to get a dog, we got one about a month into marriage. I started my job at Union, and Ashleigh started working at Jackson General Hospital in August. Shortly after beginning our jobs, I suggested we start looking for a house. Eventually, Ashleigh agreed and we purchased a house January. Two weeks after we moved in, I started taking a course in order to pursue my Master’s of Accounting. We really have undergone about as much change as people could over these last nine months, but I have loved it. My personality is seen as one that avoids being trapped. As a seven, many times I am in constant pursuit of the “next thing.” It is clear when I look back over my last year that I enjoy constant, healthy change. This can lead to not being content in my circumstances, or it can lead to great opportunities.

taylor bush

ken litscher

So my entire life I have loved to be in charge and loved to lead, but as I got older that grew into a strong desire to always be in control of every situation. Whether it’s everyday life experiences, event planning, or even things like group work for class assignments, I have to be the leader. This feeling is a vibrant red flag for a typical type eight. I see my eight side come out far more often than I would like to admit. One example of this is when it came time for planning Cardinal Ball. I’m on Junior Council but I do not lead the council (that already has my type eight personality shaking in its boots). When it came to planning and making decisions, I was eager to just blurt out what we were doing or how we were going to decorate. I was wanting to just make those executive decisions on my own because a part of me felt like “I knew what was best.” I did a good job at pushing those feelings aside until the day of Cardinal Ball. I couldn’t be there for set up because I had to work and all day that’s all I thought about. I wanted to call in sick, drive to Humboldt, bust in and start running the place. I refrained, but it was a challenge to give up control and let others lead.

My Wife: “Where do you want to eat tonight?” Me, in my head: “Burgers. I could eat a cheeseburger for every meal. I know she doesn’t want to have burgers, though. So, what restaurant has burgers and also something she’d like? We ate at Red Robin last week. Rafferty’s would use up most of what we’ve budgeted for restaurants for the month. I’d really like a burger. She LOVES Mexican. We just had Mexican at home, though, and I’m not super excited about eating it tonight. Why can’t there be a Mexican restaurant that servers burgers? Come back soon, Coyote Blues! What about Italian? Chinese? Nah. A burger sounds so good though. Hmm…” Me, out loud: “I don’t care. Where do you want to go?” Her: “I could really go for Mexican.” Me: “Sure, that sounds great!” It’s not that I won’t ever express what I actually want, it’s just that most of the time, my desires don’t seem that big of a deal compared to others’. At my very best, I’ll communicate my needs and come up with the perfect compromise when there is conflict. At my very worst, I’ll ignore my needs while being resentful towards those whose needs I am prioritizing.

Just Let Me Do It:

G L A D Y S K I P C H U M B A P U R S U E S H E R PA S S I O N T H R O U G H R U N N I N G WRITTEN BY LIZ CALDWELL | PHOTOGRAPHED BY CAMPBELL PADGETT

She was beautiful, and she looked fierce. When I saw her walking on campus, she held her shoulders up and she always looked straight ahead. She wore a black tank top and a white jacket tied around her waist. She looked like she just stepped out of an Adidas ad, and when she spoke, I was stunned and captivated by her softness. For such a hard (literally, she was all muscle) exterior, Gladys Kipchumba was the softest, gentlest person I can honestly say I have ever spoken to.

running anywhere between 8-12 miles a day, and came to the U.S., a place her family and friends admire for the opportunities available.

A sophomore nursing major, Kipchumba recently set the all time 5K record last fall (2018) and broke the old record on two different occasions, finishing third overall in the 2018 Gulf South Conference Championships. The 5K event took place at Choctaw Trails, featuring 12 teams and 97 runners. Kipchumba finished with a time of 17:58, earning first team All-GSC honors. She also broke Union’s 5K record with a 17:52 at Queens Royals Challenge.

However, Kipchumba doesn’t need much help. She is her own motivator, and adrenaline isn’t the only thing coursing through her veins in order to push her so hard: it’s self discipline. “Personally I don’t like running,” she said. “So, it’s just because of the scholarship, because if I get this scholarship then it helps me with my school. So when I talk to my coaches, I just say, ‘Let me run. Just let me do it.’”

Kipchumba started running in high school, where she attended Moi Girls Nangili in Eldoret, Kenya. In 2016, she was offered a scholarship to come run in the U.S. for cross country at MTSU before transferring to Union. She started training immediately, which now consists of

Running isn’t Kipchumba’s passion. It is how she pursues her passion. “I like nursing, that’s the thing I like most. Of course, I have to run to do this for nursing. So it will help me get closer to it.”

“The process was hard,” said Kipchumba. But the struggle of leaving her home and family did not slow her down at all. “I feel good,” she said in response to her success. “If someone told you good job, then next time you’d feel like you had to do even better. It’s like they encourage you.”

Besides her massive amount of self discipline, her motivation also comes from her team. “My teammates and I have a unity,” she said as she intertwined her fingers. “It’s what motivates us.” This motivation turns into determination for Kipchumba, who refuses to back down even through physical pain. “When you are the fastest runner, the pain that the first person and the last person have is the same.” “Gladys is the fastest runner on the team and is a hard worker. She demonstrates leadership qualities that she expresses through effort and positive attitude more than through words,” said cross country coach Gary Johnson. “My favorite memory of Gladys so far is when she stopped by my office to talk about a teammate that had not given a good effort in practice. Gladys was not willing to allow her teammates to give less than their best and asked if she could say something to that athlete. This was my first moment to see her as a leader and I am excited to watch that quality grow in future years.”

But her scholarship isn’t the only thing that rewards Kipchumba. “What I am happy about most is that I came to a Christian school,” she said. “I come from a Christian family. When I am here I feel like I am home. Everybody is studying about God. Wherever you go and you find people learning about God, that feels good.” When asked about her personal life, Kipchumba thought for a while and responded, “I come from a family of four. My big sister, my twin sister, Viola, then the last one is my brother. I have one brother,” she grinned. The last time Kipchumba saw her family was over a year ago. “I miss them,” she said. “It was painful and I cried until my dad said, ‘No, you have to run, because you have to go to college.’ And it was hard. But now I realize you just have to walk. You have to lose some things. So I have to be strong. Even if I miss home. You just have to keep running. Keep running.”

STAY AND

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Class of 2017, current MAEd student

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