S24: Renaissance

barrett, the honors college literary magazine

at arizona state university

the Renaissance issue

normal noise

volume 09, issue 02, spring 2024

Garden And these tears will water my garden I don’t need to linger on the pain It will be reflected in my growth.

Corinn Olson

C o r i n n O l s o n i s a s e n i o r m a j o r i n g i n P sy c h o l o g y a n d A n t h r o p o l o g y a n d a Vo l u n t e e r C o o r d i n a t o r f o r Ke s e m a t AS U . S h e p l a n s t o a t t e n d g r a d u a t e s c h o o l t o p u r s u e t h e st u d y o f c u l t u r e , m o r a l i t y, a n d r e l i g i o n f r o m a s o c i a l p sy c h o l o g i c a l p e r s p e c t i v e .

Outside of school, she works as an Exhibits Fe l l ow for the C h i l d r e n’s Museum of Phoenix.

N N EDITORS IN CHIEF Dunya Mostaghimi Surabhi Sajith LITERATURE Aki Sagi Editor Dylan Long Intern FEATURES Sara Bojczuk Editor COPY EDITOR Lauren DeYoung DESIGN Anna Belding Editor Elise Barlow Intern SOCIAL MEDIA Maddie Shosten Manager FACULTY ADVISOR Dr. Elizabeth Meloy

Normal Noise is a semesterly magazine supported by Barrett, the Honors College at ASU. Each issue provokes conversation about the complexities of everyday life through academic research, creative nonfiction, and art.

Normal Noise is student run. Views expressed in the magazine do not reflect those of the administration. You can reach the editorial board at normalnoisemag@gmail.com.

Follow us on instagram @normalnoisemag Check out our website a-normalnoisemagazine.vev.site/website

Garden

Corinn Olson

Poetry

Dear Reader,

New Age

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Adarshini Patnaik

Poetry

Gaining Ground

8

Tim Whitney Jr.

Nonfiction

Magazine, themed Renaissance.

Care: Towards a Food Systems Renaissance

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Estève Giraud

Thesis

Throughout history, “Renaissances” have been periods of marked transformation in the

Understanding Ecology through Art

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Lo Svitak

Thesis

A Painting of Frankenstein’s Monster

22

Samuel Ferguson

Poetry

Art of Healing

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Aysha Mahmud and Marija Shahid

Thesis

Waltzing Babies and Reminiscent Adolescence: A Rebirth in Musical Stages

26

Madison Holmes

Memoir

The State of Minority Languages Today on the Islands of Corsica and Sardinia

27

“I am me, and that is beautiful”

31

Samuel Ferguson

Poetry

“RENAISSANCE MAN”

32

Joanne Moh

Poetry

As Seen at the Sagrada Familia

33

Olivia Cordes

Nonfiction

Renaissance

37

Sofie Wycklendt

Nonfiction

On Your Mind, Frac Landscape

38

Kaden Robb

Print

When You Look at Art

40

Anna Belding

Verse

Monologue of King Art

41

Samuel Ferguson

Poetry

Life Imitates Art Imitates Life

42

Nikole Henriques

Photography

1924 Hearst’s International 1924 Hearst’s International Benda Girl Benda Girl

44

Emily Houlihan

Collage

Russian Nesting Doll

45

Angelina Baca

Poetry

Peers Leading the Way: Fostering Knowledge for First-Gen Students

46

Jen Bevins

Thesis

Sundial

48

Akshita Sagi

Memoir

Thoughts on Rebirth

52

Ariel Aslan

Poetry

Beyond All Sight

53

Jillian Coronato

Poetry

We are thrilled to share with you our Spring 2024 edition of Normal Noise

intellectual, cultural, artistic, and social spheres of humanity. Ranging from 16th century Italy to 1920s Harlem, these phases capture moments in time in which we decidedly reexamined the past and were inspired to engage in a transformation at the level of the self and society.

As we collectively navigate a world bogged down with crises at the level of the individual, the environment, and societal institutions, signs of society’s yearning for a modern Renaissance have become increasingly apparent.

In this issue, we hope to capture portraits of this current post-pandemic renaissance, in which we see a revival of arts, a renewed interest in nature, and a heightened urgency Acacia Wastchak

Thesis

to reconceptualize our collective purpose. Through insightful essays, captivating artwork, and thought-provoking research, we delve into the myriad of ways that individuals and communities are seeking to spark a modern Renaissance amidst the challenges of our times. We wish for the following words of Renaissance to reignite your curiosity about our peculiar world and inspire you to be a part of this movement to progress our shared humanity.

We sincerely thank the admin at Barrett, the Honors College, for supporting the magazine as an outlet for student creativity and thought. Dean Tara Williams, Vice Dean Kristen Hermann, and our faculty advisor, Dr. Elizabeth Meloy provided invaluable encouragement throughout the creation of this issue. We also would like to express our appreciation to the contributors, including ASU alumni, who brought such creative interpretations of the modern-day Renaissance we are experiencing; their work truly exemplifies the ingenuity of the human mind. Additionally, our editorial board never ceases to impress us with their commitment to this magazine–thank you. Lastly, we would like to thank you, dear reader, for joining us on a path of reflection and a reimagining of our reality and its boundless possibilities.

Sincerely, Dunya Mostaghimi and Surabhi Sajith Editors-in-Chief

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by Ad a r s h i n i Pa A one-way street towards feeling like a child.

Though perhaps we are always children because of our ever changing perspectives, which is why grown-ups have to consult their parents about taxes, and everyone says they don’t feel more, but less wise as they age, and I will always feel uncomfortable calling adults by their first names.

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I see the same faces as always, add a few fresh ones, and yet they all feel alike.

A smile graces my features at every text message, from companions from both the past and present.

I continue to laugh at the same dead jokes, regale others with the same unfunny tales and

ponder upon time that’s falsely linear since the

old is new and the new is old

and perception is unknown.

I peer at my television screen, laden with images of characters of the past as live-action remakes of Percy Jackson and Avatar: The Last Airbender fill my vision, and ruminate on how the new and old have become indistinguishable. Though maybe they always were the same, which is why cartoon Disney movies are now Marvel, and Zendaya is still our favorite actress, and I’m scooping instant coffee into my milk like I used to scoop Nesquik chocolate powder, and everything is mimicking something else but still perceived as novel.

My spring semester starts,

The flowers bloom at winter’s edge,

It has all changed again and hasn’t changed at all;

it will change again and won’t change at all,

next year, and the year after that,

and no matter how many new opportunities arise,

and how many new experiences I get, I will always be looking up how to do things on Google. I could overthink about how I’ll change and how the world will too, constant in its impermanence, but instead I think I’ll keep oversleeping on weekends and watch

my phone gallery fill up with recent photos that feel

identical in their nostalgia to old ones.

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I find it interesting—the cyclical nature of everything.

The way everything changes from old to new, new to old, old to older, and back again.

I enter my first year of college unready for change.

The people and places around me warp and distort, da A unfamiliar like the reflections of funhouse mirrors, by but when the surroundings finally settle, m N ew Ag e, a p oe they look the same they have for the past 17 years: Normal, but original all the same.

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Tim’s thesis shares the stories of ecological revolutionists in the Phoenix area and the needed renaissance with our collective relationship with Nature. The work is titled, “The Secrets of Sustainability: Making Hope and Finding Peace in a Poisoned World”. From soil regeneration to food waste reclamation, the project demystifies sustainability by going beyond research. He hopes to encourage a renewal of ecological relationships and environmental practices utilized in the past by interviewing the change makers of today. His full thesis will be published in May 2024.

Gaining Ground Thesis Excerpt and Photography

by Tim Whitney Jr.

Edmund Williams would pause to think with a deeply furrowed brow, frustrated ripples of a possessed will. Layers of sharp language, a warm demeanor, and a casual yet urgent tone painted a sophisticated picture of a part-time farmer, part-time CEO. I interpreted the conviction subtly pressed into his brow as two-sided: burden and purpose. His vigor to preserve the natural world in all its shades and faces was palpable.

When his frustration held for a planet that poisons itself spilled over, it did so with gushing bravado and pooled in an actionable message. A sense of entrepreneurial ambition proudly echoed from his chest.

During our two-hour interview, Mr. Williams was brimming with sustainability solutions like a desert spring. A civil-turned-ecological engineer with an emphasis on soil dynamics, solving root problems is Mr. Williams’ expertise. As founder and CEO of LEHR Garden, a small dispersed urban farm business, Williams and his team build planters with self-sustaining crops that leverage ancient soil knowledge.

That afternoon the sun glared steeply in Laveen County, Arizona. Suburbs turn to farms and ranches

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quickly in this corner of the South Valley. Dirt crunched and popped under my tires as I rolled slowly past handfuls of ponies and cattle. The warm air smelled of fresh grass among wood chips and dung. Our second time making an introduction, Mr. Williams greeted me with a sly smile and a joke like an old friend would. We chatted and meandered over to a white farm shed with green trim. It was mostly empty except for some tools and a plastic table and chairs. He took off his rectangle glasses after we sat down. It was a sign of getting comfortable. He wanted to feel me out first. I gave him background on my passion for sustainability, like who I’ve mentored under and the strategic sustainability I’ve learned in the academic setting. It did the trick and we dove right in.

My list of carefully curated questions was quickly superseded by a hot-button issue: plastic straws. I wanted to hear him out: “One of the biggest travesties in the sustainability movement– we mobilized an entire nation to make the smallest possible change–the straw thing.” Mr. Williams’ example points to a persistent shortfall of sustainability, a narrow scope. Too often, targeted messaging allows people to hit the mark while missing the big picture. We’re told, “Buy my product. Do the thing that I want you to do.

Here’s my political message. Whatever. And so the understanding, ‘why do we do what we do’, and ‘how can we make informed decisions about what the actual impact is’, is completely lacking from the messaging.”

Reaching sustainability targets would be more meaningful if we weren’t sucking water out of a sinking boat with a paper straw. National Geographic estimates a yearly rate of plastic pollution flowing into the ocean from straws is 0.025%. For each straw that becomes soggy, how many tons of industrial plastic pollution went unnoticed? For Mr. Williams, the “travesty” of the push to remove the plastic in the smallest possible

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use case was a massive opportunity cost. Public imagination is lacking: “We’re not giving people the tools to make informed decisions.” How could it be that the American people, with endless scientific knowledge and technological innovation, are so alienated from our own needs?

“‘We’re not giving people the tools to make informed decisions.” How could it be that the American people, with endless scientific knowledge and technological innovation, are so alienated from our own needs?

In part, our dominant institutions tend to cause problems and brand themselves as a solution. “The problem that we’ve got is that the people who are defining sustainability are almost universally doing it for their own purposes,” Mr. Williams told me matter-of-factly. Recycling is a prolific example.

A 2022 report by the Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development stated that 9% of global plastic is recycled. Despite the three arrows and access to a blue bin, your plastic water bottle stands as much of a chance of getting recycled as this piece does getting a Nobel prize. Petroleum companies that make plastic products spread mass confusion with the term “recyclable” and other clever marketing. Recyl-able doesn’t translate to recyl-ed in most cases.

In Mr. Williams’ own field, there’s a big push from “big agriculture” to define themselves as being “regenerative.” A recent study by FAIRR finds that only 8% of these mega companies have mobilized finances towards incorporating strategic sustainability principles that improve their

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environmental impacts, an act called greenwashing. Greenwashing is a term for a misleading appeal to sustainability in marketing, from clever word-smithing to flat-out coverups. Mr. Williams laughed, “Your big ag created the need for regenerative agriculture, that’s how not regenerative you are.”

According to Mr. Williams, topsoil, arguably the most precious food-yielding resource in the world, is getting “burned through” by big ag.

Unsustainable farming practices are one significant cause of topsoil deteriorating at a rate of one soccer field every five seconds, according to the UN Food and Agriculture Organization. The FAO predicts global topsoil devastation by 2070, likely leading to international food shortages. Mr. Williams echoed the UN declaration with a sense of necessity: “We’re done. We as a human race now starve to death. We need to do something about this.” I briefly sputtered on fumes of thick dread. The look in Mr. Williams’ eye was determined. He has earned his peace as a business activist engineering solutions to impact the world.

Sometimes the solutions that keep humanity pushing forward require us to pause to learn from history.

No need to reinvent the wheel, especially when there’s no time to waste. Presented with the topsoil conundrum, Ed gathered knowledge of a longlost Indigenous farm plot that holds the secrets to regenerative soil. Much of how sustainability actors live is akin to the ethos of the Renaissance.

Before we cross the present moment we look left– to the past–and right–to the future. We cultivate a refreshed perspective for a society that is starving for change, as DaVinci, Michelangelo, Copernicus, and Martin Luther did in their time roughly 500 years ago. Sustainability minds often look back further and in different places than Greece and Rome. We look back to society before there was a need for ecological revolution. Sustainability was a way of life for pre-agricultural people of the land.

Far more “advanced” modern industrial farming

relies on chemical fertilizers to restore soil between harvests. It’s a new phenomenon with mixed results. According to Ed, “big ag’s” topsoil has been shown to have a life expectancy of 10-15 years. Ancient Amazonian “terra preta” soil is different. Rich, black, and teeming with microorganisms, the soil became Ed’s new standard.

The missing magic ingredient is cultivating microorganisms in agricultural plots, such as mycorrhizal fungi, to do the regenerative work that synthetic fertilizer has failed to do. These fungi may make or break global food chains.

The conditions created by modern farming sterilize mycorrhizal fungi from the soil ecosystem. It

happens that 90% of plants have mycorrhizal fungi living on their roots. These fungi are symbiotic– information, nutrients, and water flow through their veiny underground highways for the sweet toll of glucose. They react with awareness when we step on them. Some people conceptualize “common mycorrhizal fungi” as the natural world’s brain, maybe even the site of earth consciousness.

Without these mycelial networks, forests, meadows, jungles, and entire ecosystems couldn’t exist.

Their ability to gather usable carbon back into the soil is a critical function for farmers as well, a “1% increase of carbon in the soil an acre of land can absorb an additional 20,000 gallons of water per rain event” as Mr. Williams informed me.

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Why am I doing it?” He didn’t ponder for too long. He designed a solution. Mr. Williams introduced little ecosystems into his bedroom, terrariums teeming with soil and plant life. The problem vanished. Like the self-sustaining habitats he put together as a kid, Linking Ecosystems & Hardware for Regeneration (LEHR) is what his team does best.

LEHR produces gardens that are 24 feet in length and just wide enough to sucker-punch your friend on the other side. The one I saw was bursting with Swiss Chard. Its leafy green skin soaked up the sun with a shine that smiled. His gardens reintroduce “third spaces” for neighbors to gather and work lightly together under the peaceful sun. Like a scaled-up fungi node in urban ecosystems, new relationships for sharing are generated. Quails and chickens live in cages below the crop, providing a constant supply of organic fertilizer. A tank of water is built in, perpetually cycling through the system.

He was shocked that I hadn’t been educated on these fungi and declared, “It’s important not just to environmentalism in general, but also to our business model.” By combining twelve different soil cultivation methods, including the addition of charcoal to facilitate mycorrhizal fungi growth as the ancient Amazonians did, Mr. Williams’ company produces soil so rich in beneficial microbiology that one gallon spread over an acre has been shown to significantly increase crop yields and health. For instance, with the thriving presence of mycorrhizal fungi in soil, plants can access phosphorus more efficiently, leading to increased crop yields while the soil is regenerated without the toxic dependence on chemical fertilizers. He calls it bio-utilization,

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as any ecological engineer would know. It’s a fancy term for the most fundamental human survival tool: working with nature.

The seeds of Mr. Williams’ success with an ecological engineering attitude were sown in his childhood. One of the “most crucial questions of my life” was born from boredom with the typical pets, dogs and cats and fish. Mr. Williams adopted snakes, turtles and the like. He quickly accumulated a smelly problem. The tanks grew dirty from animal waste. He had to discard their byproducts himself.

Probably while returning from the trash can, a young Mr. Williams thought to himself, “This lizard lives out in the wild. Nobody cleans up after him.

We often hear “reduce, reuse, recycle”–all pillars of Mr. Williams’ business–but we don’t add words that mean “replenish.” One of the subtler benefits of a LEHR garden includes the sequestration of atmospheric carbon and releasing of breathable oxygen, the invisible but invaluable service that all plants provide. He estimates that two pounds of captured greenhouse gasses for every pound of delicious crop produced. Revenue is generated by sales of his soil. His business is a system designed as an ecosystem. It leverages life to benefit life. By integrating profit and nature, growth takes on a new robustness.

Nature moves in cycles. The great Oglala Lakota medicine man Black Elk said, “The Power of the World always works in circles, everything tries to be round.” When Mr. Williams broke the cycle of nature by boxing in his lizard, a nasty externality piled up. Pollution, waste. The linear economy that drives or at least underpins every level of human society tends to take natural resources and turn

them into waste–with a window of human use in the middle. It’s like our system forgot what it is.

The idea that we are separate from nature is the source of our identity crisis. We are nature: “and the idea that that is not the case–supremely toxic,” Mr. Williams said. “A lot of the damage that we cause, damage that necessitates sustainability comes from that [belief], ‘I am separate from nature.’” The need for sustainability is an indicator that we’re missing some fundamental truth. We are nature. We are people of circles in a world where synthetic lines are severing our ability to cope with environmental degradation.

Who are we as nature? Does the bee know that its hard work guarantees our food security year after year? Does it appreciate the fields of blossoms it bears on its tiny legs? Like everything else living on this planet we have a role to play that is much bigger than we’ll ever know. Scientists claim that the type of animal we are is a “keystone species.”

The term comes from the stone at the top of a gate, holding the arch with pressure from all sides. We are the most consequential type of animal. As Ed explains,“I say we look forward, and let’s own that role as a keystone species. Let’s create new habitats that create new things. And let’s surround ourselves with healthy, thriving biomes.” Let’s remember who we are, as nature. Let’s adapt to evolve our linear systems to work with nature’s cycles. Nature’s thriving is our thriving. Together, we can grow our wounded planet into the shrine of vitality that it already is.

Tim Whitney is in his Senior year at ASU studying Business Sustainability. He’s a street photographer, loves learning new pasta dishes, and is helping a friend start a business.

Access the Barrett Thesis/Creative Project Collection to read his full thesis here

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Care:

Towards a Food Systems Renaissance Thesis Excerpt by Estève Giraud

Estève’s dissertation examines food systems, exploring how integrating care can lead to well-being, resilience, and sustainability. It gathers perspectives from various experts and communities in France, Cuba, and Arizona in the United States, analyzing the meaning and practices of care in a food systems context. This piece presents a summary of her dissertation which can be accessed with the QR code.

uring the 15th, 16th and early 17th centuries, otherwise known as the Age of Renaissance, Europe underwent profound social and agricultural transformations that still bear their mark on today’s food systems. While the elites of the time dreamt of travel, gold, spices, and sugar, their explorations set the stage for the horrors of colonization, genocide, and chattel slavery, each of which was instrumental in creating today’s global food trade. Most Europeans worked in agriculture and lived in rural areas where they were forbidden to access forests to hunt. In preparing for the agricultural revolution, England famously underwent the beginning of the Enclosure Acts and imposed legal property rights to open fields formerly managed as commons. The new system further impoverished rural areas and led to revolts, many of which were organized by women and were often met by witch hunts. As women were targeted, so were several structures and groups providing care to the natural environment, agriculture, and society. Further developments would lead the world to the globally integrated, hyperproductive yet deeply unequal and often destructive food systems that we know today, in which more people need food, fewer people grow it, and structures of ecological and social care are domesticated and abused. However, it does not have to be this way.

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Several traditions and knowledge systems provide examples of food system models that are rooted in principles of care for all life forms based on the core notion that all beings are ontologically interdependent. Among them, we find permaculture, ecofeminism, agroecology, and Traditional Ecological Knowledges (TEK), which incorporate the evolving knowledge acquired by Indigenous and local peoples over centuries through direct contact with the environment. In my dissertation, I discuss how integrating principles of care in food systems – that is how we think of, grow, transport, distribute, prepare, and discard food – provide opportunities to increase resilience, enhance well-being, and promote sustainability.

I draw on different approaches to care and the interviews of experts in food systems in Cuba, France, and Arizona to offer a definition and a conceptual map of care in the context of food systems and to identify how different care practices enhance sustainability. Integrating these practices into our food systems requires a degree of reform, some of which are political, while others are value-based, agricultural, emotional, and spiritual. Revaluing food-producing activities, farmers, and farmworkers is one such redefinition that needs to occur. As well, we must relearn to take time; the time to respect the biological cycles of the soil, the plants, the fruits, and the seasons, and to patiently nurture their rebirth. It is care, in fact, that holds the power to heal and repair much of the social and ecological wounds, and to enact food systems’ renaissance.

Estève Giraud is the Director of Research at the ASU Swette Center for Sustainable Food Systems. With a background in humanities and business, she graduated with a Ph.D. in Sustainability in 2022. She enjoys gardening, making bread, and decorating cupcakes with her daughter.

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Overview

Understanding Ecology through Art: Toward the Use of Creative Engagement in Science Education An Analysis and Creative Collection Thesis Excerpt by Lo Svitak

Calling for further integration of science and art, I argue for a revival of academic interdisciplinarity. The current separation of subjects causes decontextualization and narrower worldviews, while the issues of today demand multi-perspective problemsolving and a deeper empathy that is often lacking in traditional Western science.

Particularly in the fields of sustainability and environmental science, creativity can be the key to informing and inspiring people to broaden their understanding and enact grassroots change. Parallel to the Renaissance’s recollection of the classics, we now need a revitalization of multiple ways of knowing. Before Western science became the accepted version of scientific thought, there were, and still are, other bodies of knowledge, such as Indigenous oral histories and other experiential and intuitive ways of knowing.

Connection has always played an important part in these understandings of ecology, and a creative and immersive engagement with these concepts of ecological communities is crucial for students. Through art, we can explore this interconnectedness in novel ways.

You don’t have to be Michelangelo to just practice observing the natural world and letting it inspire you. In fact, I believe we naturally have this instinct – collecting rocks, observing creatures, and longing to interact with the world as a part of it rather than a disconnected being simply moving through it. I call for a rebirth of holistic education and, ultimately, a reintegration of nature into our lives because everyone deserves the opportunity to practice creativity and ecological well-being.

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The focus on harrowing statistics and the individual responsibility to save the planet from climate change serves to place an overwhelming moral burden on the consumer. Corporations, institutions, and governments can shirk their responsibilities through the abstraction and individualization of the ethical decisions and consequences associated with our environment.

Average individuals – especially youth – face the burden of resolving the climate crisis, while having a proportionately tiny role in causing it. Combined with feelings of powerlessness to reverse it, people experience an increased desensitization to real-world issues. Also contributing to this desensitization are nature deficit disorder, the excessive separation of school subjects (science vs. humanities conflict), the discouragement of creativity in education, and the inaccessibility of the academic research process and science communication in general. These effects combine to create immense pressure on individuals to solve a problem they are vastly disconnected from.

Without the education and resources required to direct this pressure outwards toward positive change, what often happens is a state of static apathy, confusion, or dread. How can we counter this urge to give up, this sense of unsureness or ignorance, this immobility?

General climate education and ecological education need to be more creative, focused on innovation, positive change, and seeing the whole. Art and Science Technology, Engineering, and Math (STEM) education can be more integrated – creativity, play, and hands-on engagement are a more effective way of fostering a connection with nature and offering a deeper understanding of ecology (evidenced by studies such as Resnick 2007, Kernan 2010, Melhuus 2012, Avery 2013, Szokolszky et al 2019).

Countering desensitization and encouraging important environmental innovation begins with education.

This project offers a multi-perspective overview of why art matters in ecology. By combining the research of others and offering insight from within the academic system (from the perspective of the student), I will address the breadth of applications that art has in science education. The goals of this project are

(1) to show how we can foster a sustainable mindset and make science-learning accessible through creative means, (2) to explore different ways that people can engage with sustainability and the world around them in an integrative and interdisciplinary way, and (3) to address the implications of this topic within more specific themes in social and environmental justice — including trends of climate doomism, nature deficit disorder, failures of the education system, and issues with accessibility and the right to information. I will also produce a creative aspect: this second section of my project consists of a collection of my own eco-art.

Overall, I ask the following questions: 1

Why does creativity still matter for non-art students?

2 How can art be a successful tool for STEM education/science communication?

3 How can creative methods be used to facilitate STEM learning, specifically in desert ecology?

4 How can I use my own art towards this goal?

Introduction: Why Does the Relationship between Art & Science Matter?

What relates science and art? Art improves the intellectual process of discerning truth and understanding from the world around us. The goal of both is ultimately to find and express some kind of meaning, truth, or essence; determination, creativity, and curiosity are essential to both. Scientific and artistic excellence are both furthered by the same personality traits and skills: “Creative scientists and artists have a consistently similar set of personality traits… Compared with the average person, they are more open to new experiences and norm doubting, as

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This mindset erases centuries of complex human interpretation and cultural narratives of knowledge in favor of a monolithic Western science. Central to this Western scientific ideology is the concept of a rational, unitary, Cartesian self. Ecofeminist philosopher Val Plumwood (1991) explains that this notion of self relies on dualisms formed by hierarchies of domination and subordination, including the perceived divisions between human/ nature, human/animal, mind/body, male/female, reason/emotion, or civilized/primitive. Specifically, the mind/body dualism manifests as rationalism, placing the importance on the intellectual mind over the lived body. An obsession with rationality and the usefulness of information led to a split between the more experimental or physical sciences and the human or social sciences today known as “humanities.” In a never-ending search for efficiency and effectiveness, science often ends up disconnecting data from the big picture. On the other hand, art does not claim objectivity or even any kind of particular method or result; it is rather an “open language between concepts, materials, media, and process” (Alhamoud 2018).

“ In a never-ending search for efficiency and effectiveness, science often ends up disconnecting data from the big picture.”

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well as being autonomous, self-confident, driven” (Feist 1998). These kinds of traits make it more likely for a person to show originality and perseverance through the challenges and trials of both the science and art world.

This creative thinking has been stifled through a divergence of art and science. With modern science, emphasis is often placed on tools, data, and objectivity. Yet, the technology itself is not the one making any discoveries or assertions, so why does the human aspect of science tend to be ignored? Historically, the focus on objective empiricism is associated with a specific European worldview that developed during the Enlightenment period. This movement sparked a shift towards a fastidious, elevated intellectualism and invited a mistrust of intuition and other possible ways of knowing.

Just as blind faith had previously been placed in the spiritual world, it was now placed in the rational world. Science became the new divine truth through which the universe could be completely understood: everything now has a logical structure and can be explained through reasoning and intellect alone.

Art offers a new perspective to ecology, especially in terms of how sustainability science can include alternative ways of knowing that are experimental and experiential. Michael Propper (2017) argues that if we want people to care about sustainability and take sustainable social action, then creative experiences can accomplish this better, specifically an approach that “includes processual, affective, and sensory types of knowledge, imaginative agency, and conceptual forms of interaction. He explains that due to “incentive and reward structures such as financialization, competition, marketization,” research is being pushed into boxes. The forces of capitalism are becoming the main driving force behind science, rather than forces like human curiosity or ecological well-being. With this dilemma in mind, ecological art (or eco-art) aims to express environmental concerns, involve sustainable practices, or bring awareness to ecological knowledge.

Art in Science Education: Bridging the Academic Divide Creative thinking relies on two distinct ways of thinking related to different physiological features: “The fast system-I produces intuition whereas the slow and deliberate system-II produces reasoning” (Scheffer 2015). These two types of thinking are most useful when used together because type I is useful for quickly producing creative solutions and connections, while type II can help check errors produced by type I. Scientists are mostly trained to use type II and often lack sufficient creative type I thinking necessary for innovation and new progress, which is why creativity needs to be practiced within the more quantitative sciences. Essentially, “breakthroughs” throughout history have involved both types of thinking – and since modern STEM education is already filled with the scientific method and other more objective techniques, type I is often what’s missing from this education.

Though traits tied to creativity in science are hard to effectively teach and institutions traditionally tend to hinder such interdisciplinary innovation, an academic reunion of arts and sciences is necessary. Both fields have much to learn from each other, and the division of STEM and art in academia is smothering innovation.

Excessive separation of school subjects discourages students’ creativity and furthers the perceived divide between the science and art worlds. Even if STEM fields don’t know exactly how to teach students “originality” or creative thinking, we know from studies like Scheffer’s that integrating science and art is beneficial.

Field courses and other experiential learning methods are critical to the creation of good scientists. Someone can be a walking encyclopedia with years of study and still not know how to put that information to use; it’s hardly debatable that experience allows for improvement in any field. However, I maintain that traditional field classes are not enough. To truly expand our perspectives and exercise the creative muscles we need for scientific development, we must look to art.

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“ Scientists and creatives need not be envious or suspicious of one another; we are one in the same.”

Inviting art into our science can help shift our focus from getting the single ‘correct’ result toward exploring the processes themselves by which we can find a multitude of different results. Life science as we know it is not something as established as a mathematical formula; it’s important to recognize that there are multiple answers to ecological questions and multiple ways to find those answers. What’s currently being taught will still be developed and improved upon; the way we look back on early science is the same way future scientists will look back at us. For this innovation to occur, “We must question our knowledge and where it is coming from. We need to step away from the microscope, listen to stories, discuss philosophies, …allow the diversity of knowledge-making to flourish, for holistic understandings to redefine what it means to be a human body intertwined in complex ecosystems, disconnect from a rationalistic

ideology, and embrace the flexibility and openness of art” (Alhomoud 2018).

There are plenty of scientists and scholars already engaging with the ideas of deep ecology and other less mainstream philosophies. For example, in his talk “Posthumanities in the Wild: Projects in Multispecies Justice,” professor Cary Wolfe questions the impersonal way we currently address animals, both in the legal realm, in terms of conservation, and in personal interactions. He explores the concept of giving a voice to animals rather than assuming that they cannot have desires or rights in the same sense as we do. By replacing clinical objectivity with empathy and more creative human-animal connections, we can create an environmental ethic inspired by intuition and pathos. Wolfe also explains that organizations, such as those that work in areas of sustainability like animal rights, cannot garner the same trust that a group associated directly with a university can. This may be due to the increasing separation of subjects in academia: STEM and humanities professionals often view themselves as at odds with each other, competing for university funding and resources and performing entirely different roles in society. As a solution, Wolfe proposes ground-up change, revolutionizing the way we read literature, interpret laws, and engage with other media. In the case of this project, I argue for promoting change in the way we educate about sustainability and STEM in general, making it more creative and accessible to wider audiences. It’s not enough to simply tell people to change their mindsets – before we are able to change the way we interact with the status quo, we must change the way we interact with each other. Scientists and creatives need not be envious or suspicious of one another; we are one in the same.

people where they’re at; there’s a style and form of art for everyone, be it music or sculpture or graffiti. Art is not limited to a particular field of study, nor is it limited by ethics, aesthetics, or any specific scientific method or necessary ‘usefulness.’ It can exist outside traditional institutions, including academia, and can thus meaningfully manifest as direct, collaborative, grassroots social action.

Issues that can be improved through the education system (and particularly with art) include nature deficit disorder, information inaccessibility, and climate doomism. Taking a more ‘human’ perspective also allows us to include disadvantaged populations and integrate the knowledge of queer, BIPOC, disabled, and other communities historically ignored by Western science. Coming from the lived experiences of those who are familiar with creative problem-solving in the face of oppression, these perspectives are invaluable to ecology and climate education.

Educators should encourage everyone to experience ecological interconnectedness in a creative way, which is why I advocate for novel intersectional and transdisciplinary approaches to conservation education – such as the integration of feeling, abstraction, and nature-play.

To learn more, read their full thesis online on the Barrett Thesis/ Creative Project Collection here

Implications for Science Communication, Social & Environmental Justice, & More As a non-structured and relatively unregulated medium, art has a unique position in science communication. It can be particularly successful in appealing to an audience’s pathos because art meets

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Lo Svitak is a senior majoring in conservation biology. They also study Spanish and Italian and have a passion for art and poetry. Their thesis explores the intersection of ecology and art.

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THE A RT

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LING EA FH

Painting of Frankenstein’s Monster Poem by Samuel Ferguson

Frankenstein’s monster, pictured up on the wall

Was once dead but now lives again

THESIS EXCERPT BY Aysha Mahmud & Marija Shahid

Much like us, our arts, our songs They may die But we piece them back together Samuel Ferguson is a freshman studying computer science and a Barrett, the Honors College student. He has been writing poetry for several years now.

He also loves coffee and philosophy, both of which are a poet’s best friends.

But instead of stitches, we sew them with soul They breathe but they also love They love because we too, love After plague, after darkness abates We, like Frankenstein Cry “It’s alive! It’s alive!”

Because our soul sewn art, our patchwork monsters Carry a piece of us wherever they may go

Aysha Mahm u d and Marija Shahid are cu rrent m edic al stu dent s . Aysha attends Midwestern Univer sit y and Marija is stu dying at the Univer sit y of Arizona . They are both passionate abou t ar t therapy, social activ ism , and refu gee advoc acy. These best friends gradu ated together in 201 9 from B arrett , the Honor s C ol l ege, and u til ized their passion for heal thc are and ser v ice as tool s to expl ore the renaissance of ar t as therapy for u nder ser ved com m u nities .

READ THEIR THESIS HERE

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Art can be a “form of therapy [which] could promote emotional, developmental, and cognitive growth in children” (How Art Can Help Children, 2019, p.5); as such, it is a highly effective tool used among vulnerable children to allow expression and communication. Many children have been noted to “find it scary or difficult to properly express themselves in a clinical setting… [especially] young children who generally have limited vocabularies” (How Art Can Help Children, 2019, p.5). Art therapy steps in to serve as a bridge for these fears as a “symbolic language.” Refugee camps in Jordan have implemented this model through Artolution, community-based art workshops to provide “refugee children with a safe platform for creative expression and trauma relief” (UNHCR, 2019, p.2). Medical art therapy “..leads to re-experiencing normality and personal power even with short creative activity sessions” within the clinical setting (Aydin, 2012, p.3).

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PURPOSE/OBJECTIVE:

DISCUSSION:

As aspiring physicians, we have noticed that, although medical care primarily focuses on treating physical ailments, there is a gap in the treatment of the child’s psyche due to their conditions. Art is a medium of therapy for children who lack the vernacular to discuss their states of being, the “symbolic opportunities [to] invite alternative modes of receptive and expressive communication, which can circumvent the limitations of language” (American Art Therapy Association, 2017, p.1). This project will further investigate the effect of art therapy on mood outcomes for refugee children at Refugee Integration, Stability, and Education (RISE) centers around the Phoenix metro area. RISE is a nonprofit tutoring organization partnered with Arizona State University that provides mentorship to refugee children.

We will provide painting sessions as a means of selfexpression and quantify their moods before and after “art-time.” We primarily focused on working with refugee children, as they are a particularly vulnerable population who may benefit from this project, in representing their complex histories of trauma, instability, and emotional distress throughout their resettlement journey. Further analysis will include investigating the link between artistic choices, such as color choice and linework, within art therapy and mood. We hypothesize that the children will exhibit an improved change in mood after the painting session.

Overall, our hypothesis of art improving one’s emotional state of mind was supported. There was a drastic shift to mood rating number 5 after the children painted. Most children either experienced no change in mood after painting, or a 1 point increase on the mood scale, while the remainder of children experienced a drastic change in mood of a 3 or 4 point increase. These findings suggest that painting will not harm someone’s mood and provide an opportunity for mood improvement. This is supported by the overwhelming number of children at both refugee center locations, Papago and Mesa, who did not want to stop painting after the time limit and continuously requested more and more time to continue expressing themselves through art.

METHODS: We provided 50 canvases with different colored borders: 12 red, 12 yellow, 14 black, and 12 blue. These borders allowed us to analyze the correlation between mood and color. Yellow, blue, red, and black were chosen because according to Birren, these are the most expressive colors that exemplify one’s emotional state of mind (Birren, 2016, p.4). A mood scale was provided for the students, scaled from 1, a very sad face, to 5, a very happy face, to rate themselves pre- and post-art time.

The students were then allowed to choose which colored border canvas they would like to paint and were instructed to rate their mood on this scale prior to and after painting.

They were allotted 30 minutes to paint in silence on the general instructions to paint how they currently feel.

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A majority of Papago students chose warmer-toned colors (Figure 1); according to Birren, warmer-toned colors correlate to feelings of comfort, happiness, and being energetic (Birren, 2016, p.4). Blue-bordered canvases were the most popular option and black canvases were the least demanded; the color blue is associated with passive and calm feelings, whereas black is related to gloom and negation of spirit (Birren, 2016, p.4). As such, the overall mood of the students prior to painting was happier, calmer, and comforting.

In contrast, the overall color scheme of the Mesa students was mostly darker and cooler-toned colors (Figure 2), linked with feelings of seriousness, intensity, and gloominess (Birren, 2016, p.4). The most popular canvas border was black while the least popular was yellow; this is in direct contradiction with the observations noted in Papago. Based on color choice, the overall mood of the students prior to painting was more gloomy and less joyful among the Mesa students than that of the Papago students. A possible explanation for this could be based on the demographics of the two locations. Papago’s RISE location hosts students who are much younger, ranging from six to 12 years old, while Mesa hosts older students, ranging from six to 19 years old. The difference in starting mood and, therefore, color change could be linked to feelings of stress as one ages. \

(University of Houston, 2007, p.6). The majority of students who rated themselves as very sad, 1, utilized rigid lines over smooth. This is consistent with art theory which associates rigid lines to negative emotions, perhaps as a way to release tension. The majority of children who painted with smooth linework rated themselves as a 4 or 5, which indicates that they are, for the most part, happy or very happy.

Before the children painted, they were instructed to choose a colored border for their canvases based on the color that most stood out to them and how they felt; as such, our data should reflect a correlation between the children’s mood rating pre-painting and the specific color they chose for their border. The majority of the children who chose the yellow-bordered canvases initially rated themselves a 3 or 4; this indicates their moods ranged from neutral to happy. These observations link with the known emotional associations with yellow, which are tranquil and joyful (Birren, 2016, p.4). The majority of children who chose red borders rated themselves as a 4 prior to the painting session, consistent with research that links red to excitement or passion (Birren, 2016, p.4). However, the mood ratings for black borders do not necessarily match up with the known emotional associations between mood and black.

Birren links black with feelings of negation of spirit and gloom (Birren, 2016, p.4), yet, most students who chose black as the border rated themselves as a 4, which signified happiness. An explanation for this could be due to personal choice or the aesthetics of a black border.

Lastly, a majority of the children who chose blue as their border rated themselves as a 4 prior to painting. Blue is labeled as the color that most effectively expresses calmness while also being passive (Birren, 2016, p.4).

While the positive feelings indicated by a rating of 4 can relate to this definition of blue, there is ambiguity within the meaning of feeling calm and passive. It is unclear whether the calmness and passiveness come from feeling down or positive. Nevertheless, for the most part, our data on the moods of the children based on their border color of choice closely matches what prior research indicates.

CONCLUSION:

According to Line, Space, Shape, and Form, smooth linework is related to feelings of calmness whereas rigid linework refers to feelings of excitement and assertion

The act of painting became a transformative experience, as our data indicated an improvement in emotional

The quilt well-being after painting time. This thesis demonstrates how art therapy became a vehicle for a rebirth of selfexpression, paralleling themes of individualism, creation, and human experiences. Each child’s linework, color choices, and mood ratings became a reflection of their psyche and, in turn, provided an outlet for their wellbeing. One can note themes of human potential and growth through each child’s forms of artistic expression, highlighting their abilities to cope and overcome their personal migration journeys and lessons. As such, art plays a renewed role in mental health and can provide long-term therapeutic benefits.

FUTURE IMPLICATIONS: We propose a long-term program that offers consistent exposure to art therapy. This includes art sessions within regular RISE tutoring sessions, healthcare settings, or other local programs that work with vulnerable populations.

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Waltzing Babies and Reminiscent Adolescence: a Rebirth in Musical Stages a memoir by Madison Holmes is a fourth-year student in ASU’s Music Learning and Teaching program with an emphasis in violin studies. Aside from music, she is fervent about portraying human detail and complexity through personal essays and poetry.

Madison’s memoir details how her early childhood redefined the role that music has played in her life. As a young girl, Madison experienced music as pure and unhindered by anxiety; this contrasts with her adolescent period, where music was used as a means of performance rather than for its pure joy. In this piece, Madison shares how one of her memories encapsulated the essence of her life purpose—to live her musical truth, regardless of the circumstances at hand. This moment in time captures the brief, yet monumental moment where she remembered the significance of her musical calling.

Through tireless hours in the waning sun, music sang on the radio on the nightstand nestled next to my crib. The radio’s midnight-hued shade was concealed with the coming night and acted as a bridge toward rejuvenating peace.

Sonata Facile dulcetly greeted my ears; its playful familiarity was a catalyst for a future I was not capable of envisioning in my infancy. With my unblemished hands, I reached to my ceiling as if I were ascending the night’s starlit ladder to dreams ad infinitum.

Facile contours cascaded from the sky to the dreamers below, casting a blanket of restful joviality. I continued to maneuver about my bedroom floor in my childlike buoyancy as Mozart’s melody flourished in my memory, beckoning to be reimagined in my adolescence.

Years later, Jamie, my beloved orchestra comrade and friend, whispered indistinguishable chatter into my ear as we prepared to face the most arduous task in orchestra—the notorious chair test. We had been connected through music since our formative years in the West Valley Youth Orchestra Cadet Strings ensemble, and our heightened awareness of the feat loomed above the crown of our heads like an unceasing omen. We had undergone this ordeal numerous times in orchestra class, but now we awaited our conductor’s sharp approval. Temporarily, we forgot why we were there in the first place. As Jamie timidly tiptoed into the fateful room, my sprite, infantile feet entered my thoughts. I gleamed at Jamie as she grimaced, juxtaposing the competitive quality of music with its nurturing comfort. Images of joyful notes painted my mind as I drifted apart from the disquieting reality. Looking back at these memories, I can clearly see how music has shaped me, from college coursework on an early Tuesday morning, to impromptu midnight jam sessions in an Atlanta hotel basement. With each note that grazes my ears, I am reborn into a world of vivid experiences, where music breathes life into memories long past. I am reminded that music is what makes babies waltz. Music is what marries our murkiness with our clarities. Music is the birth of a moment and a renaissance of a memory.

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The State of Minority Languages Today on the Islands of Corsica and Sardinia Thesis Excerpt by Acacia Wastchak

The issue of minority languages is one that has come to the fore in recent years with the revival of independence movements such as those of Catalonia in Spain, Scotland in the United Kingdom, and Corsica in France. These movements seek linguistic autonomy, each representing a nonofficial language in its respective country. This desire for independence and fierce protection of the language is not only linked to cultural pride but is a reaction to globalization, especially linguistically, in which the world is operating in ever fewer languages.

will graduate in May 2024 from Barrett and the Thunderbird School of Global Management with a degree in international trade and a minor in French. After graduation, she will continue her pursuit of an accelerated master’ of global management at ASU and Thunderbird with a concentration in global affairs.

The modern convenience of communication facilitated by globalization has created a homogenous global language landscape with minor languages going by the wayside. Major languages dominate as the lingua franca (most commonly spoken language), leading to the decline of minor languages as a result of reduced formal education in them, replaced by English and other major languages. Furthermore, many parents have stopped teaching their children minor languages to avoid the stigma that is often attached to speaking a minor language. Fortunately, organizations like the European Union back the preservation and promotion of minority languages by funding various programs.

These languages are crucial, representing distinct cultures, literature, and oral traditions at risk of disappearing without intentional preservation efforts.

Pumuntincu and Sassarese are Romance languages from the Italo-Romance family, both spoken by about 100,000 people as of 2022. Pumuntincu, which is also referred to (in English) as Oltramontano or Southern Corsican, is spoken in the southern half of the island of Corsica and includes the Porto Vecchio,

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Ajaccian, Tavarese and Sartenese dialects. It is the most conservative and archaic version of Corsican, which is an officially recognized minor language in France; however, French is the official spoken and administrative language of Corsica. Sassarese, on the other hand, likely emerged as an urban lingua franca in the late medieval period on the island of Sardinia due to a complex contact scenario of different languages and is considered to be a transition language between the islands along with Gallurese. Recognized only at the regional level as an official dialect of Italian (rather than a unique language), many modern and older works are written in and about Sassarese, and a number of cultural and social events are held regularly in connection with the language. Sassarese is spoken in the northwestern region of Sardinia in four municipalities or communes (Stintino/Asinara, Porto Torres, Sassari, and Sorso) which, as a province, is referred to as Sassari. Each commune has a distinct accent and vocabulary which has caused them to be referred to as dialects by the residents of the region, each with their own name in the style of Italian nomenclature (ex: stintinese, portotorrese, sassarese, sorsese, etc.).

Sassarese Local preservation efforts With the publication of the 2022 Standard, the Laboratorio di Sassarese was established and is open both to the public and students studying literature looking to fulfill their minor language certification requirement. The free, thirty-hour course is taught by native speaker Alessandro Derrù and is the first of its kind in the five-hundred-year history of the Università degli Studi di Sassari. There are also free classes available through the Istituto Camillo Bellieni, which works to promote and advocate for all of the minor languages present in Sardinia. Prior to the Standard, the Institute organized special projects to promote the language but most preservation efforts for Sassarese were locally organized by grassroots organizations or as special projects of larger organizations.

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Over the past century, musical artists and groups have been the custodians and most obvious advocates for the preservation of Sassarese through the dissemination of songs through CDs, radio, and now music streaming services such as Spotify.

Language Policy The island of Sardinia is home to five minor languages: Sard/Sardinian, Sassarese, Gallurese, Tabarchino (also referred to as Ligurian), and Algherese (a variety of Catalán). Although the 1999 federal law only acknowledges Sard, the Autonomous Region of Sardinia recognized Sassarese (along with Catalán and Tabarchino) as a dialect distinct (if not of equal prestige) from Sard and Gallurese in 1997.

In 2018, the Region established a law for “Rules governing regional language policy,” which, most notably, allocated funds for the implementation of Law 482 in the form of special projects relating to the promotion of the minor languages found on the island (L.R. n. 22/2018). The immediate result of this was temporary projects such as night classes or presentations at schools about the languages. It was not until early 2022 that the Istituto Camillo Bellieni submitted a request and was approved for funding for the creation of an orthographic standard for Sassarese, which was the biggest project the law had financed to date.

The publication of the Standard has been critical to the revitalization of the Sassarese language. Before, there was much variation and disagreement on spelling and certain grammatical structures, which made it difficult to teach the language. The yearlong project brought together linguists from around the island and resulted in an eighty-page book available for free in PDF form by request from the Institute.

The future and revitalization of Sassarese are very promising as students progress through classes at the Institute and more university students opt for Sassarese certification. Academics are enthusiastic about the potential of the Standard with the Istituto Bellieni actively expanding promotion efforts through new

projects and initiatives.

Pumuntincu (Corsican) Language Policy Language policy in France is, overall, quite restrictive: Article 2 of the French Constitution of 1985 states that “the official language of the Republic is French.”

French is therefore the only official language of the state despite the proposal of an amendment to include minority languages. Further, the Toubon Law, passed in 1994, mandates the use of French in most public spheres, i.e. the language landscape. In 2008, the Constitution was revised and Article 75-1 added, stating that “regional languages form part of France’s heritage”; however this does not accord them any special status or support as in other countries. In Spain for example, the minority languages have a co-official status that allows those language communities a certain level of autonomy. Seemingly in accordance with the amendment, the French government does have a section of their official website dedicated to “the French language and languages of France” with sections of the page titled “take action for the languages” and “for proponents of language,” which include resources on language policy and the latest updates on language projects.

As French language policy relates to Corsica, in 1982, France gave the island the special status of collectivité territoriale (territorial collectivity).

Granted in the wake of the Corsican nationalist movement, this decree granted Corsica autonomy equal to that of a French state. In 1991, the Joxe Law created the Corsican Assembly with significant powers in the administration of internal affairs. It also mandated the Corsican Assembly to devise a development plan for Corsican language and culture education, ensuring three hours of weekly instruction in elementary schools for all students, unless parents or legal guardians opt out.

The plan, developed by The Collectivité Territoriale

Linguistic map of Corsican languages.

Image courtesy of: CC BY-SA 3.0 de Corse (CTC), includes financing of the education publisher Canopé, a functionary of the French government, to create materials in Corsican. Under the CTC umbrella are the municipalities (ex. Ajaccio, Porto Vecchio, etc.) and initiatives such as Parlemu Corsu. Most recently the “Lingua 2020” plan developed in 2015 and adopted in 2016 outlined an initiative to create a “bilingual society” by 2020. The Plan examines and advocates for the co-officiality of Corsican with French on the island as is the case for the regional languages of Spain—a comparison is made with Catalonia in the Plan. Despite a few setbacks as a result of the COVID-19 pandemic, many of the goals laid out in the Plan have been realized with the execution of “Lingua 2030” (laid out at the end of Lingua 2020) now underway.

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Local preservation efforts Since the original inhabitants of the island were farmers and fishermen, the language was seen as barbaric and low-class by French aristocrats, especially since the inhabitants were largely illiterate.

As French influence grew and Corsican became the minor language, the people who spoke it continued to be the poor, uneducated farmers which reinforced the language’s classification as low-class. Younger generations have been pushing in the last several decades to change this perception and narrative, most especially in the minds of native Corsicans who have been “brainwashed” (as described by some) with the French mentality.

Efforts by Corsicans to preserve their language can best be characterized by the idea of unity as a people with separate efforts for local varieties. These individual efforts consist largely of artistic expression including music, poetry, and art for each dialect. One such creative group is the I Versi di Cagna Facebook Group, focused on Tavarese poetry and language. Members share their own poetry, interesting vocabulary, and questions due to the scarcity of Corsican dictionaries, particularly those including regional words.

As aforementioned, Corsican culture is, above all, an oral culture that is reflected in the ways it has traditionally been taught and passed down through the generations. Most people who know how to speak Corsican today do not know how to (correctly) write it, which is where language classes come into play. The “Casa di a Lingua” located in Porto Vecchio teaches Pumuntincu specifically to members of the community interested in learning or reacquiring the language. Most students are adults learning for personal, sentimental, or professional reasons as it is still considered an asset to be able to speak Corsican despite the overwhelming dominance of French on the island. Other initiatives involve Scola Corsa, a publicly funded association dedicated to promoting Corsican language and culture.

It manages a network of schools offering immersive Corsican instruction, inspired by programs in Basque Country and Brittany.

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Overall, with the help of federally funded initiatives, the robust Lingua 2020 plan, and a passionate citizenry, the state and resurgence of Corsican (and Pumuntincu by extension) is promising.

Conclusion

I am me, and that is beautiful

In the contemporary global landscape, the preservation of lesser-spoken languages has assumed unprecedented significance. This increased significance is highlighted by the awareness that these lesser-spoken languages face the risk of going extinct. Fortunately, there is a palpable surge in support for the cause with people on a large scale finally acknowledging the gravity of the situation and proactively taking initiative.

The collective consciousness has shifted towards recognizing the cultural richness encapsulated in these languages, fostering a sense of urgency to safeguard them. It is my firm belief that, with sustained momentum and growing national and international support, languages like Sassarese and Corsican, among others, can be not only preserved but also actively maintained. This commitment to linguistic diversity not only safeguards the heritage of these communities but also enriches the broader tapestry of human expression and cultural identity.

I am human, And that is beautiful I am rational But I am also irrational I am my mind But I am also my body and soul You are also human And that is beautiful too Do not let the world steal that from you You are your soul, body, and mind So when the world knocks you down When they try to use you To tell you who you are To use you as a computer or an object Stand firm and tell them:

It is my greatest hope that my research compiled here will help to educate people not otherwise aware of the plight of minor languages and give an (English) voice to the people of Corsica and Sassari whose hospitality and kindness further endeared me to their language.

A lingua si chijama vita.

“I am me, and that is beautiful.”

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find her full thesis online at keep.lib.asu.edu/items/191413

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Joanne is a sophomore double majoring in Computer Information Systems and Marketing. She spends her free time converting events in her life to poetry. Some of her other hobbies are guitar, piano, and photography.

h re an, t

ii. friend

I swore off religion, but staring at A 19 year old boy and feeling like

He’s my destiny spreads the Black Plague of unfounded faith through my cells. I Think it’s his calloused hands in my hair and His fingers drawing DaVincis on me That restore my soul, or whatever David Wrote about the Lord in Psalms 23:3.

“Safer to be feared than loved”--then would it

Disappoint Machiavelli if I Spend a Saturday in his hometown with A confession waiting for our goodbye?

I trace I love you on his back in bed; A text later: you’re basically my best friend.

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Nonfiction and Photography

by Olivia Cordes

Sa

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i. fake fiancé

He’s sitting right beside me in Leader’s oh

While neon plastic feels like wood church pews M e

Under blood pumping through me by liters, nn

Stained green glass windows in his eyes undo

Every knot my smited heart interweaves.

I feel pages of every story before

Whittling down, thin as Holy Bible leaves While he taps my shoulder as nothing more Than a “friend” whose presence is crucial Every Tuesday/Thursday. Would you laugh if I Said the “fake” before fiancé is cruel As cornfield string lights reflect in his eyes?

Like he’s read my journal, I think he understands.

He holds my hand; they steal the Death Star plans.

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iii. home A screw top bottle and take-out pizza Forgotten somewhere as we stumble through A bedroom door, or what feels like streets of Florence. What is it they say about true Love? A home built out of skin and bones Held together by something the poets Claim is built from phonic fibers of oaths.

He’s staring at me like he means it, no guts.

My hands tremble holding his face like glass.

Green bores into espresso brown, and he’s

Everything all at once. Souls collapse Into the God of humanism. She’s

Telling me there’s nothing better than

Quietly loving a renaissance man.

Olivia’s piece reminisces on her time in Barcelona, Spain, where she studied abroad, and reflected on the beauty of historical landmarks including the Sagrada Familia. She reflects on the juxtaposition of classical architecture with new development in the city and calls for a renewed approach in how we honor the past in a world focused on the present.

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Re

After a lunch with family friends who have known me since I was just an embryo, I had a few hours to kill before I reunited with classmates to see the famed Sagrada Familia. This was the largest incomplete Catholic church in the world with scaffolding and cranes on each side to prove it. Antoni Gaudi, the eccentric architect whose career was cut short after being run over by a tram at age 73, was responsible for this organized mess of organic shapes facing out from the front of the cathedral. Construction of the church began in 1882 when he was just a few months shy of 30 years old and continues to the present day. It is in a constant state of renewal with new artists superimposing their ideas over previous ones as if they are reinventing the vision. Gaudi was a Renaissance man outside

A

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of the Renaissance period, building a cathedral to rival the wondrous beauty of those built centuries before his.

Before I arrived at this landmark, I wandered semi-aimlessly, arriving at the Mercat dels Encants de Barcelona. This was a marketplace of hardly contained chaos, and I stopped my speedy browsing of the usual antique goods and miscellaneous knick-knacks to stare at one section of a man’s storefront. He was selling an assortment of As Seen on TV products, boxed up and bearing advertising slogans from the early aughts. A portable neck massager, various kitchen appliances, and a battery tester were among the array. They offered themselves out to the world as if begging for a renewed purpose, “Please, put us to new use.” These items weren’t so much displayed

as they were strewn about on the concrete, not even arranged on a table to entice any potential buyers. I was staring at a slice of time from my childhood–the beginning of the technological renaissance. How many ways can you slice a tomato? This gadget can help! This was the last sight I’d see before merging back onto the diagonal avenue directing me to the Sagrada Familia.

With the road toward the cathedral under construction, this one region of the city didn’t contain that same architectural beauty I’d grown accustomed to seeing nearly everywhere else during my stay in Spain. Chain-link fences lining the path served as a reminder that even the most pristine places need occasional reconstruction.

It was a moment of reality in a place that had, so far, felt unreal–a reminder that beauty may need to be contrasted by something else for us to see it in the first place.

Though this strip of street marked a brief pause in aesthetic appeal, any questioning of beauty’s presence would soon dissipate. I walked through the row of shops all bearing variations of the same souvenir shirts, cutting boards, key chains, aprons, et cetera. “I Heart Barcelona” was plastered on any household item you desired. I acquiesced to the friendly salesman offering water bottles for two euros. Walking for a couple of hours was quickly dehydrating; my mouth was dry even in the slight humidity.

After the small hill of tourist traps, La Sagrada Familia’s organic, surreal architectural front peered down at a dispersed horde of spectators below. This beacon of beauty shone over the tourists gathered underneath it. I sat on the curb, chugging the last drops as I peered at the structure. I realized, eventually, after checking the group’s shared locations, that I was sitting opposite where I was supposed to meet my classmates. I wandered to the other end of the church, passing admiring onlookers until I was greeted by our flock of students and our new tour guide. She provided a brief introduction once we came up to the cathedral’s front doors. The facade of shifting shapes from afar now showed clearly carved figures and faces.

Metal vines draped the front entrance, replicating an idea of Eden. Inside, evening sunlight passed through the stained glass, painting the walls in red and orange, green and blue. I stood gawking upwards, neck creased at a right angle to look at the wonder of architectural work that this building was. Though it was still a work in progress on the outside, the inside seemed unreal, an artistic idea brought to life. The power of one man’s creative vision was pushed onwards by the community funding the continual process of building, trying to maintain the same visions held in Gaudi’s famously disorganized blueprints. When anyone paid for a ticket, they also paid to support the continual construction of this cathedral. This was a reminder of the effects of powerful art; it mobilized a whole slew of architects (specifically, seven after Gaudi) to carry out the construction of this sacred place. A group of people were all striving towards one goal: the continued commitment to beauty as a means to depict a sense of holiness permeating even our secular society. Whether religious or not, the Sagrada Familia triggers feelings of reverence, awe, and appreciation. It is a place of stunning peace, even in the middle of a bustling, globalizing city where, two blocks away, I can buy any variation of an “I Heart Barcelona” t-shirt that my consuming heart desires.

And less than two blocks away, on the adjacent street corner, Taco Bell asserts its presence with advertisements for “beef squares” plastered on the windows. The

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contrast between the growing modernity of this city and its roots of history is made most poignant upon walking out of the Sagrada Familia, looking not back toward its artistic grandeur but rather out at the city that has continued to develop around it.

Urban expansion continues, oblivious to the UNESCO World Heritage Site standing in the middle of it all.

The constant push and pull between historic preservation and modern innovation is something we don’t give much consideration to in Phoenix, given that the most historical buildings we have are maybe a century or so old. Building here is a process of tearing up untouched land for new parking structures, apartment complexes, and shopping plazas. If you travel north to the furthest reaches of the Valley, you’ll find what used to be the Cave Creek Inn, built in 1928. It is now an Oregano’s pizza restaurant. This is the extent of renewal in Phoenix. (I recommend the Clark Street Pizza, perhaps a pizookie). Pizza aside, it hardly rivals Barcelona’s Gothic Quarter and its ancient Roman origins, or even La Sagrada Familia, which began construction in the 1800s. How do you measure progress when you don’t have historical backdrops to provide sharp contrast? Taco Bell fits right into Phoenix’s urban sprawl, perfectly in place amongst the other new developments. But this chain seems misaligned with the sense of place we’re inclined to believe we’d find in cities as old as Barcelona. There, a fast food restaurant and an architectural wonder stare at each other, neither planning to give up their footing in the city grid.

Still, it’s not up to the tourists, seeking a pristine image of a city, to decide whether the local residents get to enjoy a beef square and Baja Blast, five euros, please. If people want fast food, then fast food will surely come. Just as the Renaissance brought art and science to the people, Taco Bell brings its preservativepacked meals. Phoenix is a city built without reference to the Renaissance with Taco Bells aplenty and buildings constructed as fast as possible, regardless of aesthetics. By contrast, Barcelona, dating back to Roman times, holds the Sagrada Familia surrounded by streets of competing consumer traps, the marked march of modernization making its way through the city. The mixing of old and new will continue, as the years pass and the globe gets more intertwined with itself and all of the various innovations that its people promote. A tomato slicer will travel between TV screens around the world until it eventually ends up at Mercat del Encants, seeking renewed appreciation from the flea market onlookers. I simply hope there is still due deference given to the places that promote our ideas of beauty, both the places that have stood the longest and ones new minds will put forth. Rather than replacing the old with everything new, we must accept a coalescence between times and learn how to exist in the constantly occurring renaissances of modern life.

Olivia Cordes is a senior at Barrett majoring in biology and psychology. After graduation, she plans on attending graduate school and continuing to pursue opportunities to travel and learn more about the world.

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nonfiction by Sofie Wycklendt, a Barrett, Honors College student studying Social and Behavioral Sciences. She has been involved in ASU leadership, serving as a Senator for the W.P. Carey School. She loves meeting students and finding ways to make their campus experience enjoyable.

Renaissance I fe e l l i ke I a m m o u r n i n g m y t we nt i e s w h i l e I a m ex p e r i e n c i n g t h e m a s i f a n o l d e r ve rs i o n i s fo n d l y re m e m b e r i n g a n d v i c a r i o u s l y l i v i n g t h ro u g h m y p re s e nt m o m e nt s . I t h a s b e e n d r i l l e d i nto m y s u b c o n s c i o u s t h at I o n l y g et to b e i n m y t we nt i e s o n c e a n d I u nw i l l i n g l y re m i n d m ys e l f of t h at eve r y s i n g l e d ay. I h ave n eve r b e e n t h i s awa re of h ow s l ow t h e d ays c a n b e a n d h ow i n st a nt t h e ye a rs g o by. Eve r y t i m e I h e a l f ro m s o m et h i n g , s o m ew h e re e l s e i s l e f t c rac ke d . I t fe e l s l i ke I a m t r y i n g to c o l l e c t wate r w i t h m y b a re h a n d s . I c a n h o l d s o m e , b u t t h e re st w i l l a l ways r u n b et we e n m y f i n g e rs . I a m n ot s u re w h at sw i tc h h a s b e e n p re s s e d o r w h o s i t s i n t h e h i d d e n p a r t s of m y m i n d .

S o m et h i n g a n d s o m ew h e re c a n n ot h e l p b u t s h a ke m e , l ett i n g m e k n ow h ow wo n d e r f u l l y f l e et i n g i t a l l i s .

I started watering plants that have been dying to grow, for years They have colors that I have never seen before

I always thought they were weeds

Temptation for a life that would never been mine to reach

But it turns out

The sun shines brighter now

The voice gets louder

No matter where I travel to

Maybe it is time I let myself grow into the person

I have always wanted to be Let my guard down and trust that somewhere

There is a puzzle

Waiting for a piece that is shaped

Just like me

M y m i sfo r t u n e s a re b u i l t o u t of sto n e . Th ey s ay, “ Th at i s j u st t h e way i t i s , ” l i ke I wo u l d b e a fo o l to q u e st i o n w hy t h e i r r i t a b l e h a rd s h i p s we re t h e fo c a l p o i nt . Th i s i s n ot to s ay t h at t h e g rey a n d d re a r y a re n’t to b e a n a l yze d –we m u st i n d e e d ac k n ow l e d g e t h e way t h e c a rd s a re d e a l t to u s . I f I we re to d i g eve r y t i m e I st a re d at a n e g at i ve a s p e c t of m y l i fe , I wo u l d i n ev i t a b l y l i ve i n a b u r row w i t h n o l ad d e r to c l i m b o u t of i t . I t wo u l d b e a c o nt i n u o u s m i n e w i t h s u c h l i tt l e l i g ht t h at I wo u l d b e d e p r i ve d of v i t a m i n D. A s s u c h , I wa nt t h i s l i fe of m i n e to b e a n ad m i rat i o n of t h e m o m e nt s t h at p rov i d e d e a s e , a l a u g h , a n d a s of t d i st rac t i o n f ro m t h e wo r l d s p i n n i n g . I wa nt to l e ave t h i s l i fe w i t h t h e j oy I ke pt f ro m a n ac c u m u l at i o n of m o m e nt s w h e re n o m atte r h ow b i tte r t h e l e s s o n s t a ste d , t h ey m ad e i t a l l a l i tt l e b i t swe ete r.

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“On Your Mind”

works by Kaden Robb, “ Visual Artist pur sing FBA

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for Chicago based band The C ourts

“Frac Landscape”

in Printmaking”

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you WHEN Art, artat back YOU. look at looks

Anna Belding has been the design editor of Normal Noise magazine for two years. She will graduate with a BSD in Graphic Design with Honors imminently.

Uncertain: job prospects. Certain: she will miss this publication.

Anna Belding has been the design editor of Normal Noise magazine for two years. She will graduate with BSD in Graphic Design with Honors imminently.

Uncertain: job prospects. Certain: she will miss this publication.

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Monologue of King Art I walk back into my palace Not an attendant in sight I look to the cellar But no cook is to be found at ovens I search in the rafters But my people are gone Hiding in their homesteads I find them They fear the disease Its ravenous wrath approaching But I am Art And beauty does not die in plague When time ends I shall be there As the sun comes out So do the people from their cottages Death has come and gone The plague has been defeated Once again my house is filled with life Colors adorn every surface My kingdom has returned in full And I, King Art, have returned as well

Monologue of King Art

a Poem by Samuel Ferguson

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Life imitates art imitates life

Compilation and photos

by Nikole Henriques, a senior graphic design student passionate about films, film photography, and experimenting with energy drinks.

1

3

2

4

1 Echo and Narcissus John William Waterhouse, 1903, oil on canvas 2 Nikole and Elke Nikole Henriques, 2023, Minolta Talker 3 St. Francis in Ecstasy Giovanni Bellini, 1480, oil on panel 4 Morgan in Ecstasy Nikole Henriques, 2023, Minolta Talker

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Recreation of W.T. Benda’s work in the January 1924 issue of Hearst’s International Magazine to capture “The American Girl” (created with hand-painted recycled paper).

Emily Houlihan is a sophomore in Barrett, the Honors College at Arizona State University, pursuing a bachelor’s degree in art studies with a minor in art history. Emily is an Arizona-based visual artist who uses her skills in painting, drawing, and 3D mediums to express her feelings and ideas.

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n Nesting Dol l Russia

by Angelina Baca I t' s d us k i n a movi e.

I t' s gi vi n g s pe e ch e s i n t h e pul pi t .

I t’s s ki n n e d kn e e s a n d te l eva n ge l i sts .

Or t h e i nve nt i o n of t h e l i ght bul b.

I t' s Cae s a r a n d t h e gre ats wh o d ri ve fast c a rs An d w ri te G e n eva Co nve nt i o n s .

Th i s fi rst n i ght , my wi s h e s curl e d i nto fe a rs .

Am I st i l l yo un g mo m? I a m n ew mo m.

We a re ki n d e r to e ach ot h e r t h a n befo re, wi t h o ur bl o o d be h i n d o ur te et h .

Th e s e co n d n i ght , I h ad a d re a m t h at I h ad a ba by.

I wo ul d ta ke h e r to sta re at t h e mo o n .

W h e n I wo ke up s e a rch i n g t h e s h e ets fo r my d a ughte r, I praye d t h e s ki e s staye d t h at s h ad e of bl ue.

Th e t h i rd n i ght I l a i d i n t h e co rn e r of a crowd e d ro o m.

W i t h “ Hi sto r y d o e s n’t re pe at i ts e l f, but i t ofte n d o e s rhy me. ” w h i s pe re d i n my e a r.

Sl o uch e d ove r a n d s l urre d a n d gre e d y, I wa nt to be n ew, mo m.

Th e fo ur t h n i ght , I fo un d mys e l f awa ke a n d s urro un d e d I n a wo rl d of fa l s e pro ph ets a n d fa ke d evote e s .

I wa l ke d t h e 1 -1 0 ba refo ot , l i ke a bl i n d d o g ch as i n g s o un d Lo o ki n g fo r h e r.

On t h e fi ft h n i ght yo u pro mi s e d me.

We a re n' t o ur mot h e rs a n d We wo n' t be co me gh o sts .

I ’m n ot s ure yo u re me mbe r t h at n i ght .

I ' ve j umpe d h e ad fi rst befo re, I ' ve l eft t h e h o us e w i t h n owh e re to go I ' ve wo rn t h e w ro n g s i ze j e a n s a n d I ’ve s a i d t h e wro n g t h i n gs .

I n eve r pl a n n e d o n mi s s i n g h e r, but I st i l l we a r h e r s h o e s .

Angelina Baca is a Phoenix local and freshman ASU student studying history education. Creating art is her passion - a quality reflected in her love for writing and film.

F I R ST M O M E N TS O F I N D E P E N D E N C E W H E R E YO U ’ R E F E E L I N G F R E E D O M A N D F E A R A L L AT T H E S A M E T I M E .

g SEMESTER OF COLLEGE. FOR A LOT OF PEOPLE, COLLEGE BECOMES A VESSEL FOR AN INDIVIDUAL “RENAISSANCE”. I WANTED THIS POEM TO FEEL LIKE THE

“Hearst’s 1924 International Benda Girl”

by Emily Houlihan

R U S S I A N N EST I NG D OLL REP R ES ENTS CO MING TO T ER MS WIT H YO UR PAST R AT HER T HAN R UNNING AND ING NO R ING IT I N OR D ER TO MAT U R E AN D EVOLV E

h

MY POEM, RUSSIAN NESTING DOLL, IS ABOUT MY EXPERIENCES WITH FINDING MYSELF IN THE FIRST SEMESTER

g

Thesis Excerpt by Jen Bevins Access the Barrett Thesis/Creative Project Collection to view her full thesis

Peers Showing the Way: Fostering Financial Knowledge and Creating Financial Access for LowIncome, First-Generation College Students Throughout higher education in the United States, administrators have focused great attention and effort toward supporting first-generation college students and promoting their success. As of 2017, first-generation college students made up a third of the United States college-going population. However, only 27% of them would obtain a four-year college degree within four years (Whitley et al., 2018). A 1997 longitudinal study done by the United States Department of Education found that, even after controlling for income, educational expectations, academic preparation, parental involvement, and peer influence, the level of education attained by a student’s parents significantly affects the student’s persistence and likelihood to complete a four-year college degree (Choy, 2001). First-generation college students across the country are persisting and graduating at much lower rates than those of their continuing-generation peers, and their quest to re-invent their futures through education is being cut short.

In addition to the academic obstacles firstgeneration college students face and the decreased likelihood of completing their college degree, they often experience cultural barriers and isolation within the college environment. Laura Rendón (1992) described her experiences as a Mexican-American first-generation college student and the fact that there are challenges, “that arise from [living] simultaneously in two vastly different worlds while being fully accepted in neither.” She, like many other first-generation college students, experienced the dialectical tension of being both in and out at the same time, never feeling fully a part of the college community, while also feeling distanced from friends and family by virtue of having gone to college. For many students, the

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sense of isolation and living in two different worlds can

The fundamental

contribute to lower

shift in practice that this

graduation rates.

intervention

represents

is

Figuring out how to obtain funds to pay for college

offering

individual

financial

is a particular concern for first-generation college

resource

counseling

through

students. According to the United States Department of

network of peer mentors. By spreading

Education’s National Educational Longitudinal Study of

the

1988 (NELS:88), among students who attended college

counseling

with the expectation of getting a bachelor’s degree, first-

much more accessible and sustainable, thus

generation college students were significantly more likely

allowing students a better chance at re-defining

to leave college without that degree than their continuing-

their lives through education. Peer mentors were

generation peers were; 29% for first-generation college

selected as the agents for the intervention under

students compared with 13% for continuing generation

the belief that students are more likely to connect with

students (NELS: 88, cited in Engle et al., 2006). This

another student. The peer mentorship program served

means that there is a higher likelihood of them leaving

as a platform for collaborative learning and community-

school with significant student loan debts but without a

building, mirroring the spirit of Renaissance humanism

degree that could bolster their earning power.

which celebrated the pursuit of knowledge and collective

knowledge and

wider,

a

individual

intervention

becomes

During informal exit conversations with my team,

progress. To measure the impact of peer mentorship, I

students dropping out of school cited a lack of access

surveyed the group of first-generation college students

to financial resources and a lack of ability to navigate

who engaged with peer mentors. pre- and post-surveys

the financial aid system as the primary reason for their

demonstrated that participants were able to increase both

leaving college. In some cases, students were aware of

their knowledge about how to access financial resources

the resources that were available to them, but said that

as well as their confidence in their ability to do so. Through

they chose not to make use of them (E.g., they knew how

three cycles of data collection, this study’s participants

to obtain student loans, but chose not to accept them).

engaged with both vulnerability and generosity, laying bare

However, in other cases, students did not understand how

their private struggles and working to envision a network of

to navigate the massive financial aid system at ASU. They

collaboration and growth that might help others like them

may have lacked the confidence to reach out and ask for

re-define their lives through access to education.

support in figuring it out, so they gave up and left school.

Just as the Renaissance period marked a transformative

In less severe cases, students may not have dropped

era

out of school, but may have encountered some serious

endeavored to revive and transform the aspirations

of

intellectual

and

cultural

revival,

this

study

academic consequences that resulted from an inability

and potentials of low-income, first-generation college

to navigate the system effectively. The fact that such a

students. By addressing the systemic barriers that

labyrinthine system is inhibiting the success of otherwise

impede their academic journey, this research represents a

qualified students is highly problematic. Consequently,

contemporary renaissance in higher education—one that

there needed to be additional research done to clarify

champions inclusivity, diversity, and social justice.

what financial resource intervention methods could make a positive impact on first-generation college students The purposes of this action research study using mixed methods were (a) to examine the experiences low-income, first-generation college students have in accessing financial resources and how their intersectional identities impact them; (b) to describe the impact of a peer mentorship program on mentees’ self-efficacy

Jen Bevins is the Director of Data Analytics and Student Engagement for Watts College. She researches first-generation students, traumainformed practice, and inequalities in access to higher education. She earned her Ed.D. from the Mary Lou Fulton Teachers College at ASU in 2022. Her hobbies include running, weaving, and playing Legos.

for accessing financial resources; and (c) to describe the impact of a peer mentorship program on mentees’ knowledge about accessing financial resources.

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I Sun

n the heart of my college campus, between the math and engineering buildings, there is a sundial in the constant shade of three Sycamore trees. At any given point of the day, of all the days I should say, Time refuses to pass. I lay under the simple shadows of morning with her bitter body unmoving beside me and I wonder for hours. I stand at noon and I peer gently at the dial, in the fear of startling it into motion, but it has not budged. As evening comes and the sun sinks into the horizon behind the mountains of the South, I reluctantly find my way home, dragging my feet along the pavement. The soles of my shoes wear with every crack in the sidewalk.

l, dia no

nf

ict

ion

by

Ak s

hita

S agi

I return the next day, and Time slumps quietly before me like a sheepish child. She knows that in years past she has done me wrong by moving on. I watch as a gentle breeze rustles the leaves and the branches of the trees.

Orphaned by Time, day in and day out, they groan and grasp at Tomorrow, ravenous for change. Yet, Tomorrow does not come.

However, I do. Every day for a week, I return to the patchy grass, lean my back on ant infested bark, and refuse to age for hours on end. And to my dismay, Time stands as still as you did when I told you I loved you. As if the moment might pass too fast. As still as my father when he held me in the palm of his hands 22 years ago, softly yet firmly as if the wind might carry my delicate frame from his reach.

As still as the Arizona sun at 2:15 on a July afternoon. Time has not moved, not inched, not slipped beneath a cloud or into the curves of the mountains. And I weep like a toddler with a broken bone or a woman on a Tuesday morning as Joy washes me clean. A Hyderabadi monsoon, slowly and then all at once, the world as i’ve known it comes to a violent end.

I dust the ashes of this past life off my shoulders as I burst through the doors of my childhood home and the smell of Eggplant Curry invades my senses. My mother’s favorite dish has seeped into the walls. Food is cooking even when the kitchen is empty. I hear her hurried footsteps sound in the hall and I can sense her worry. She knows I refuse to return to the past unless I am sick or forlorn or a mix of the two. Today I am neither, I console her as I walk towards my father’s office, or rather, the piles of papers, bills, tax applications, and various other mementos of adulthood splayed out in front of his favorite seat at the dining room table. He is dismayed by my insistence that he return home with me. What a funny thing, for my home to be a foreign

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concept to my own father. But as he questions my sudden faith in the world, he packs his things. Because what is a dad’s job if not to indulge the whims of his only daughter, grown too long and restless to again lay idle, let alone in the palm of his hand. And as he moves through rooms, I frantically follow him, urging him to move faster. Time traces us as we dart about, seething in anxious curiosity from the corner of the room, below the paintings I made as a child. Pinned up with pride by my lovely mother despite my every objection.

As we pass faded freeway signs and exits to dried up towns, I call my brother. I look through the A’s in my contact list until I find his name, and when I see it I feel a pang of remembrance, or rather, childhood, I guess some people might call it.

He lives across the Atlantic now, in Ireland. The Land of Saints and Scholars. He, I’ve spent the greater part of my life realizing, is both. He makes a living building computer chips or something equally nonsensical. In my opinion, he is much too qualified to build anything other than the whole universe. I used to believe as a girl that he had the answer to all of life’s great questions. That somehow, in the 5 years he was here and I was not, he had discovered some great secret I will never. But Time clawed that once undeniable truth from my arms as I slept. I woke up the next morning as a woman who had watched years go by with only mere sentences spoken to the sibling she shared a womb, a room, and a life with.

The phone sounds a 5th ring and I watch Time sulk in the rearview mirror, seatbelt snuffed and eyes rolling like beach balls in pools of apathy. The receiver clicks as he picks up and before he can get a word out, I tell him to fly home at once. I tell him I will never ask him of anything ever again. Just this one favor. When he arrives, I will hug my brother for the first time since childhood and grasp his calloused, aged hand in mine. I will speak to him through tears of a place in the world where we can stay siblings forever. Eat breakfast together at the same dining room table a few thousand times over. Share knowing glances when mom starts to tell a story that will inevitably segway into 5 more or a laugh when dad falls asleep mid-sentence on a business call, snoring into the handset. We will revel in our mutual understanding of the world, curated solely by the delicate love of our parents.

As I smile to myself at this pretty picture I have painted, my father hums along to “Wide Open Spaces” by the Dixie Chicks, fingers tap tap tapping away on the wheel.

The first song he ever played me and an ode to his immigrant dream upon arriving in this country. A dream for his young daughter to have every opportunity to realize not his aspirations, but her own. Time sulks in the backseat, grunting distaste at the choice of music.

We pull up to the curb outside my college apartment, and I don’t bother waiting for my parents or the elevator. I sprint the 13 flights up, skipping steps, and burst through the door. Time huffs and dabs pools of sweat off her forehead. Spent, she leans against the wall by the thermostat, nonchalantly playing with the temperature as her frail body recovers. My friends take no notice, they have spent the past four years following along with my unfounded theories and urges borne of curiosity, and tonight is no different. They shoot about, dressing to the nines in their Friday night best, sharing compliments and stale chips. Someone yells at Alexa to play 2000s party hits, and we dab concealer over the bags under our eyes and rose blush across

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our cheekbones. A spritz of perfume below each ear and blood-red gloss smoothed over chapped lips. Ready for forever together. As they glide in and out of each other’s rooms, pawning off unworn tops and fastening safety pins, I slip out and down the street, enjoying the feeling of 6pm in a college town one last time. Light music drifts from restaurant patios and voices carry from open apartment windows.

The orange hue of the street lamps cascades over what seems to me the whole world, and trickles into even the darkest corners of my mind. I make it a point to smile at strangers as they pass. A silent acknowledgement at our mutual acceptance of the day’s end. “We’ll always have tomorrow”.

I knock my dry knuckles on his door. My heart floods with glee and only a second later, grief, as he lays his hazel eyes upon me. More green in the light. Certain things are so horribly beautiful you must mourn them as you experience them.

Butterflies and fresh flowers, pinned up wings and wilted petals. Sun sets and sun sunken. Waterfalls and, well, water fallen. Within seconds you have imagined their overwhelming presence and also inevitable destruction. This is why I look at him like a child infatuated. But no matter. “Come,” I say as I take his hand in mine and pull him out the door, “I have found forever.”

Divine intervention is what I will call it. I’ll gather my people and walk with them to the heart of campus as the sun falls below the mountains for perhaps the last time.

Time stalks behind us like a silent killer. In the muted light of late-evening, we will arrive and I will point with great admiration at my discovery. I will announce to them with pride that we must no longer fear the passing of Time. She cannot rip us apart here. The color will drain from her face as she listens to my monologue. I have finally outwitted our silent killer. We must simply stay under the shade of the Sycamore trees. “We have forever”. My family will shed tears of joy and shower me with praise for my bountiful discovery. And for the first time, I will accept it. My friends will rejoice at the mere months I have managed to turn into centuries. He will hold me in his arms and tears will glisten like endless rivers in his eyes. “We have forever,” he will repeat.

Our days will be spent as they were meant. We will wake to songbirds and dance in the light of pre-dawn. We will laugh and joke with no pressure to remember the moment in fear of Time dragging us onto another. We will stop pouring over the creases of our rapidly aging faces and plucking at graying hairs. Instead, spending those hours memorizing the shapes and colors of each other. I will become so familiar with you that life itself will be not around us but within. To know me, they will first have to know you. We will lay in the grass, and Time will not pass.

We will watch the sun sink into the horizon with no reservations pulling our gaze away. And we will sleep without pain as we know the songbirds will tomorrow awake. “We have forever.”

But even Forever cannot overlook Fate. Come Fall and the leaves will disappear.

The sun will cascade through the branches, and Time will begin to thaw. These years together were happenstance, and I believed them to be built of bricks and stone, able to weather any cruelty, even as I grew out of clothes and dreams. As each ray falls over us, I will watch my parents pack their things once again. They will come to me and tell me they left their shade 20 years ago, traveled lands and seas with two children on their backs, built a world from scratch in a country where everything

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from rice to privilege was always a dollar away. My father will hold me in his arms a second longer than everyone else and say to me, “You have grown too big to fit in the palm of my hand, but I will never grow too weary to hold you in my arms.” As the words slip from his lips, I will see the will in his eyes and know that he yearns for Forever as much as I do.

My brother will hug me for the first time since childhood, sit with me at the Edge of Things, and tell me of the world he has found for himself halfway across the planet. He is happy there, he will say, and I will find the same upon my departure. From now on, I will take a red eye to see the person who grew up on the other side of the room from me, whose bed I would crawl into when the nightmares were too brutish. I will travel lands and oceans to eat breakfast with my blood across a stranger’s table.

My girls will crowd around me, and we will lay with our backs on the cool grass, turning pink and growing blue in the September freeze. They will assure me that although their voices will no longer carry in from the next room, or be screaming into my ear as the music plays too loud at our college bar, their love for me will span distance and Time. They will see me in their daughters, and I hope to recognize them in mine.

He squeezes my hand, kisses my forehead, and eventually lets go. I never knew peace until I saw it braided into his bones. I see him in everything, in the light through the trees and the branches and the leaves. I see him in morning and through evening, in the faces of strangers who smile as they pass. Now this, this is a forever I pray will last.

I cannot know what will happen once I step outside my shade. But everyone I love has moved on, and I, I cannot stay. I’ll pack my things and I’ll go, I’ll build a life and do it alone. Time will follow me, always a few steps behind.

We will speak in silent moments, acknowledge each other and our undeniable similarities. I’ll spend her in places and on people, learn to pay her back in kind. And as I age alongside her, I will have no choice but to forgive her misdoings, for she has never chastised me for mine.

But as I go through these days, I carry with me this strange feeling. I look back on our moments together and apart, and I fear I could pack my things, travel lands and lives, people and seas, and never love again the way I loved you. Under the shade of the Sycamore trees.

Akshita Sagi is a senior studying Business Marketing at Barrett as well as the W.P. Carey School of Business. She plans to graduate college and go on to seek a Great Perhaps. What that might entail remains the question.

Normal Noise

51

Thoughts on Rebirth

poem by Ariel Aslan

Here, today, I have been born again.

And yet, I have come out of darkness and into light. Light washes over me as darkness embraced me before.

It was a complete darkness, a whole darkness, notions of ‘partial’ gone and dead, the concept of ‘half’ slaughtered in the grave dug by the corpse of light. Thus: two graves, that vitriol hole of rotting light, that fresh bed for half-light (the dirt smelling wet and green even when green was lost to memory).

And the darkness was those graves, was the presence of them, stark in my unformed mind like a bold color that, instinctively, I must have known. The knowledge of such graves was haunting but not ghostly; no, it was there, standing in front of me – the only thing I could see and all I could touch.

But how could I have known, when all I had known were knowns? In my stupor, I felt want. I wanted unknowns, wanted ropes of glimmering hope, those that dangle in our minds and melt into dusk in reality. My knowns, perfect (spat to the ground) and right (tears are salty) were painful to behold because they were painful to feel (my heart beats, beats, beats like a sweltering sun), and such was the dirt lacing and filling the graves. Such ignorance of the unrealized thought and all-too-realized feeling.

But here – today – I have been born again.

Here, today, my new eyes drag themselves beyond the bars of their lids and I don’t see sterile walls and coffee-stain curtains but trees and sky. Here, today, I thought I closed my eyes to blink but ended up in the organic swell of newness and birth.

The graves will never leave; they remain. Their edges are uneven. The dirt is strewn across the ground and the worms interlock in the depths like clasps of some immortally mortal necklace. But my new eyes see that strewn dirt is fine, beautiful even, and graves in the back of my mind can be tolerated…accepted, even.

But light has shaken off its shroud of broken soil, stepped from its hole, and joined me in my new awareness. It has taken long enough, and this moment is not now but will last alongside my real life forever. But it has come. I can let that be enough; I can take the shaking hand of light in my own and celebrate the timeless abandonment of darkness.

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A Poem by Jillian Coronato

I lose myself in time, constructed “when” I soar tradition-ward, and melt my wings.

My eyes turn down, and so tilts heaven There reside chipped paintings of wondrous things.

is a junior at Barrett majoring in English literature and minoring in French.

In her free time, she enjoys crocheting, sewing, and painting, as well as spending time with her friends.

Above the clouds there rests a humble loft Beyond the senses, and beyond all sight: The music of the spheres is humming, soft Between my ears, I sing a song of light.

As I transcribe the organ music The shadow of divinity is cast Like from an oil lamp’s burning wick I resurrect, an ink iconoclast.

Stricken with humanity, I take my p en And find myself again, agai , aga in. n

Ariel Aslan is a freshman studying biology and data science. Writing is her most cherished form of self-expression. She loves cats and chocolate.

I open my eyes. There is no blood, no sweet sticky tributary of life crawling down my skin.

The sounds of my own thin, warbling cries do not pierce the silence.

There is no one to hold me or cut my dangling cord, no faces for my new gaze to dart across.

Beyond All Sight

light

Renais s an ce Ar t

page 44 Hearst’s 1924 International Benda Girl

by Emily Houlihan

s’ ist

s an ce Ar t

ist

pot S ’ s

light

Renais

ot Sp

S s’ t s

nc

t tligh o p

Renais sa e A rt

s’ ist

ght otli Sp

Renaiss

anc

page 43 Morgan in Ecstasy

by Nikole Henriques page 39 Frac Landscape

by Kaden Robb

page 42 Nikole and Elke

by Nikole Henriques page 38 On Your Mind

by Kaden Robb

e A rti

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A Barrett, the Honors College Publication