The Pepperbox
APRIL BOX BRIEFS Brookings Harber Invitational: April 9th ACT Test: April 9th Spring Break Starts: April 11th Baseball/Softball @ DNHS: April 16th School Board Meeting: April 19th
HDN Track Meet #3 @ McK: April 20th Baseball/Softball @ EHS: April 20th Baseball/Softball vs. EHS: April 23rd End of Term 5: April 29th
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EDITORIAL STAFF Kaelyn Tuermer-Lee Editor-In-Chief Terra Clarke Editor-In-Chief Alley Perry Editor-in-Chief Hannah Finley Managing Editor Emelia BensonMeyer News Editor Nora Lovell Feature Editor Caitlyn Patterson Feature Editor Cheyenne Keith Sports Editor Jake Verhaegh Sports Editor CJ Gray Opinion Editor
Len Perry Opinion Editor Marley Tavernier-Fine Arts & Entertainment Editor Peter Shao Online Editor Alyssa Day Business Manager Grace Walker Art Editor Rex Bachemin Social Media Director Althea Newman Photo Editor Kellen O’Neill Copy Editor Kate Breyer Photographer
REPORTERS
IN THE BOX Mad Lib . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5 News Briefs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6 Chicago . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7 American Food . . . . . . . . . . . . 8-9 Spicy Food. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10 Ghosts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11 Hipster. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12 Policeman . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13 Grandma . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14-15 Spring Sports . . . . . . . . . . . . 16-17 Figure Drawing. . . . . . . . . . . . . 18 Tattoo Artist. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19 Survivorman . . . . . . . . . . . . 20-21 Aerial Silks . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 22 Miracle Berries . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23 Football / Yoga . . . . . . . . . . 24-25 Water Testing . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26 Middle School . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27 Religion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28 My Story . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29 Grade Level Stress . . . . . . . 30-31
Questions regarding editorial content of the Pepperbox should be directed towards its editors. Opinions expressed in this paper are not necessarily those of Arcata High School.
Ellen Keil Justin Furtado Jordan Chasescott Asher Critch Jakub MĂĄcha Kiana Vigil-Gibbs
Advisor
The Pepperbox would like to thank Western Web, based in Samoa, for printing at-cost. Western Web supports student journalism throughout Humboldt County and has made publications like the Pepperbox possible for decades. We appreciate their dedication to keeping print media alive. Western Web
Jennifer Coriell
FROM THE ARCHIVES
Above: A religious column from a 1981 issue of The Pepperbox. Check out page 28 for our story on religious exploration.
BEHIND THE COVER
Above, senior Len Perry attempts to start a fire to keep warm, part of his extensive survival skills.
EDITOR’S BOX For our fifth issue, we bring to you our second experiential issue. People tried amazing new activities that they typically wouldn’t have done before, such as conquering fears of spicy foods, to having your grandma dress you for a week, to eating the magical “miracle berries”. Our reporters looked their fears in the face, and tried things they would never have dared. Our cover story this issue depicts Len Perry and his adventures in the wild (pg 20-21). We hope this issue inspires you to expand your horizons and experience something new. dfdfdfkdfjdkjfdk
-Editors-in-Chief Kaelyn Tuermer-Lee, Terra Clarke, & Alley Perry
Quotable. “Wash your hands and don’t touch anybody, ever.” -History teacher Dave Filippini to his first period Econ class about never getting sick.
“It’s like a supermodel--beautiful, but boring.”
53 Days of School Left
24 Days until AP Testing
-Physics teacher Greg Hildebrand when talking about Mount Shasta.
“I thought Ted Cruz was Carl Azuz for the longest time.” -Junior Melina Ives when talking about the CNN student news reporter’s doppelgänger
“The early bird gets the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese.” -Senior Rand Bourne sharing words of wisdom.
57 Most recent update on the days until the Fine Arts building opens
130 Number of Arcata students who participated in the blood drive
36 Days until the ArMack Gala
Write Your Own: When You Spend a Day with_______________ CJ Gray (*faculty member) Opinion Editor The morning of April 1 starts out with _________________ _____________ a big heaping bowl of ___________. (*faculty member) (verb ending in -ing) (noun) He/she then goes into the _____________, to stretch as well as to call their cousin ____________ to wish them Happy (room in the house) (celebrity) Birthday. ____________ then goes out to their ___________ ___________ parked in the driveway. You ride with them to Arcata (*faculty member)
(color)
(vehicle)
High where they blast __________ music all the way there. (noun)
Like any work day the first order of business is to ____________ a pile of ____________(s). That takes until 9:30. (verb) (object) But then the day takes a/an ____________ turn when a student named _____________ comes _______________ into (adjective) (name) (verb ending in -ing) the room screaming about how a wild ____________ is loose in the quad! Without hesitation _________________ jumps up, (animal) (*faculty member) spilling __________ all over their desk, and ____________ out of the room. (a drink) (movement verb) By the time you both get out to the quad there are already __________ students and faculty who have also gone (number) out see what is happening. No one can see where the animal is, but everyone can smell the stench of ___________. (noun) Some students even ___________ because of the smell. _________________ holds it together and goes out to their vehicle to (verb) (*faculty member) grab the ____________ they keep in their car. Right when they get back the animal is seen ________________ into one of (a tool) (verb ending in -ing) the ______________ classrooms. Both of you go towards the classroom so _________________ can ____________ the animal. (school subject)
(*faculty member )
(verb)
He/she enters the classroom first. Following them in, you see the animal in the corner of the classroom, perched
on a large _____________. You ask what the plan is and _____________ says, “You go left and I’ll go ____________. (object) (*faculty member) (a direction) Be very ____________ and it won’t get spooked. When you get close enough, throw all your _____________ at it so it (adjective) (school supplies) ______________ towards me. I’ll use my ____________ to knock it into the ____________ _______________.” (verb ending in -s)
(same tool)
(adjective)
(type of container)
You say _____________ and agree to proceed with the plan. But it doesn’t matter because out of nowhere the (any word) animal ______________ out of the window. You both give each other a/an ____________ look, then walk over to the (verb ending in -s) (adjective) window. You look out and see the animal ______________ towards a person dressed in ___________ ______________. (verb ending in -ing) (color) (clothing item) They have a crate set up and the animal goes in and curls up in bed made of ____________. The stranger locks the (noun) crate, and walks away _____________. He then goes up to the crowd of people and explains that the animal was his (adverb) pet named ____________. His pet had gotten out somehow when he had been trying to pull off a/an _____________ (name) (adjective) April Fool’s prank. You ask _______________ what they thought of the whole ordeal and they tell you, “That was ___________ ! But you would (*faculty member) (adjective) be surprised what kind of ___________ things I’ve seen in the __________ years I’ve been at Arcata High!” (adjective) (number)
The Pepperbox | Page 6
News briefs
News
Arcata High: National:
Hospital cyber attack:
The nationwide dependence on technology was highlighted After nearly two years of mov- In Humboldt we’re used to our recently by cyber attacks on a ing from location to location fair amount of little shakes, liv- Washington hospital, which without having a permanent ing right by the San Andreas forced the staff to revert back to space, the ArMack orchestra Fault, but the South may be paper records. MedStar Health has finally moved into its des- giving us a run for our money Inc. was paralyzed by a comignated room in the new Per- this year. The USGS (United puter virus, possibly ransomforming Arts Center, only to States Geographical Survey) ware, which shut down the move back to its former loca- has released a recent map of hospital’s systems and has now tion in the drama room. Due to areas at risk for earthquakes in warranted an FBI investigation. building restrictions and com- 2016, and Oklahoma is show- Ransomware is a type of malplications, the room was built ing as much possible activity ware, which prevents or limin such a way that there was as Northern California. Other its users from accessing their not enough space for the string areas that could be threatened systems, and usually forces its section to rehearse. Luckily, include Texas, New Mexico, targets to pay ransoms through the drama class has agreed to Kansas, Colorado, and Arkan- online payment options. About switch rooms with the orches- sas. Injecting wastewater (a a month ago, a similar attack tra, and the orchestra is hop- byproduct of drilling for oil occurred at a Los Angeles hosing to purchase removable ris- and gas) deep underground ac- pital, which eventually paid the ers to put in the former drama companies hydraulic fractur- $17,000 to free their systems, room for the brass and wood- ing, or fracking. According to using the bitcoin currency. For winds to practice on. Despite USGS seismologist Justin Ru- now, the hospital is using a pathe complications, the orchestra benstein, fracking itself is not per system from the 1960s. is happy to have a room of its responsible for destructive own in the new building where quakes, but wastewater injecit is continuing to rehearse for tion can induce earthquakes its upcoming performances. that can cause major damage. Obama in Cuba dur-
Orchestra shuffle:
Earthquake update:
Global:
ing Brussels bombing:
On March 22, President Obama traveled to Cuba to deliver a speech. He called for a change
Photo courtesy of USGS
2016 Earthquake Forecast
Thursday, April 7th, 2016
in the relationship between the United States and Cuba, promising to put the rivalries of the Cold War in the past. The President requested a lift on the embargo, calling it outdated and unnecessary. However, he stated that continued changes must occur in Cuba in order for its relationship with the United States and the Western Hemisphere to improve. Though the attacks in Brussels caused a wave of panic throughout the world, Obama kept his promises and attended a baseball game in Havana, Cuba with his family and Cuban president Raul Castro. Though many opposed Obama’s decision to remain in Cuba before returning to the states to address the issue, he demonstrated that he can handle issues such as this one from any location. Even while he was in Cuba, Obama offered his condolences to Belgium and vowed to assist in any way possible in this time of crisis. He declared that terrorists try to “disrupt our daily lives,” but that in order to discourage them, we shouldn’t let them cause such dramatic effects on our lifestyles.
Thursday, April 7th, 2016
News
The Pepperbox | Page 7
They had it coming: rave reviews for Chicago Terra Clarke Editor-in-Chief
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any of us at Arcata High are unaware of what goes on in our very own mysterious theater program. When the basketball team wins league it is announced to everyone in the bulletin, AAI artwork can be seen in the hallways, but when drama puts
Being a typical human being I continued to be drawn in by the fabulous music numbers that told the story of murder, greed, and adultery. on a fantastic performance only the students who come to the show know about it. Until a week ago I was among these students, unaware of the talented student actors that wander the halls. I followed along the fence covered in plastic tarps, into the fine arts building, grabbed my program, and entered the brand new theater. This was the first, and most definitely not the last, time I was impressed on that Friday night and the show hadn’t even started. I had just enough time to document the majesty
of the theater before the show started. I was greeted by a sultry, yet tasteful, number by Jessica Smith, who played Velma Kelly. Being a typical human being I continued to be drawn in by the fabulous music numbers that told the story of murder, greed, and adultery. While the voices of Khavi ZvalekoGarrett (Roxie Hart), Jack Angles (Billy Flynn), Cat Rogers (Matron “Mama” Morton), and the aforementioned Jessica Smith projected throughout the theater and resonated with each and every member of the audience, I was extremely im-
pressed by every cast member. The dancing, timing, and incredible sass that was pulled off in the song “Cell Block Tango” blew me away. To say the least my eyes were glued to the stage and I couldn’t help but want to dance along to the fantastic songs. This is not only thanks to the actors, but the lighting was very effective. There was a red backlight that contributed to the shadows and feeling of corruption that is so evident in Chicago. The courage it takes for a high school theater program to take on a scandalous play, like Chicago, is enough to deserve
applause, but I was brought to my feet by the flawless performance that I witnessed. I will say that I am no theater expert. The school plays that I have seen and been a part of usually consisted of performances in brightly lit middle school gyms, with actors who couldn’t be heard over the noisy kid sitting next to you, and awkward prepubescent teens swaying in the background. Clearly those days are long gone for Arcata High School’s AAI theater program and I am proud to say that after four years I was finally able to witness the incredible work they do.
Terra Clarke/PEPPERBOX
The new theater in the fine arts building as the audience settles into their seats before the show.
The Pepperbox | Page 8
Experiential
Thursday, April 7th, 2016
Biting into new experiences Jakub Macha Reporter
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etween the United States and Europe there many stereotypes. Some of them are true, some of them are not. One of them is that Europeans just looooove food. That’s true. We spend hours making the perfect meal. On Christmas or Easter we spend most of our time in the kitchen making dinner. If you go to Europe, you’ll see that for some people food isn’t just a passion it’s a way of life. Europeans are proud of their cuisine. But don’t be misunderstood, Euros also eat trash food. We eat a lot of it. When you don’t have enough time to make a sandwich, you go to nearest fast food and get a “Quarter pounder.” When Europeans don’t have time, they also go to fast food and get a “Royale with cheese.” Our food habits are more similar than you’ve thought. But what do foreigners think about American junk food? Is it different? AHS exchange students tell you what they think about American trash food. Twinkies Twinkies… ehh. It’s not like anything I would have at home. In the plastic cover it looks tasty. But when you open the package, it looks like the dough is stuck on the plastic cover and it looks like you would peel it like a banana. Bravely, I took the first bite. Super oily salt-dough with with liquid marshmallow filled my mouth. The dough wasn’t that bad, but the cream, tasted like liquid marshmallow with so much sugar. The Twinkie
was like a glue. It glued up my mouth and it took a lot of time before I could try anything else. Turkey - Gosh, can anyone give me real food, apple whatever. Germany - I think it’s just disgusting. Equador - It tastes like eating a hundred marshmallows in one bite. This was definitely the worst what we had today. Honestly these are super disgusting. I don’t know why anyone would want to eat this.
Girl scout cookies (thin mints) This cookie looks normal. But you never know, It may be a trap like the Twinkies. I expected that it would have some mint filling, but it doesn’t. It’s a crunchy cookie with chocolate glaze and was unexpectedly really tasty. Mint and chocolate doesn’t work for me, but this cookie is the best thing that we have here. France- It tastes like toothpaste. Germany - Can I have one more…. please. Btw. Clara took rest of them. I don’t think I’ll see them anymore.
She had some issues with the name. Who can name anything “Squirt”. But she overcame the issues and tried it as well. She agreed it tasted good. I’m just not sure if she will ever try Squirt again. Italy - This is the most weirdest name. Equador - I love Squirt, because it doesn’t taste like grapefruit.
Mini muffs Package of six mini muffins. These muffins looks normal. I finally thought we found something good. Something that looks good and tastes good. What can be wrong with muffins. I probably forgot about the Squirt twinkies. Yes, it was a trap. I Squirt is supposed to be found out what's wrong with Grapefruit soda. At least the them on the first bite. It tasted label says that. Joaquín and I like a wall with chocolate chips. took our soda and we opened Why… I hoped I would have it. Squirt tasted good, but we something that I would like to were looking for the grapefruit eat. I’ve never thought someone flavor. It tasted like every oth- can make business on products er citrus flavor, but no grape- that taste like licking a wall. fruit flavor. Why does it say it Italy - It’s not that bad, but … is grapefruit flavored? No idea. ehh When we finally lost the idea of Mini muffins don’t taste good. grapefruit soda, it began to taste But on the other side they are good. We decided it was one of not disgusting. If we were use a Jakub Macha/PEPPERBOX the better junk foods that we scale from 0 to 10. It would be a Joaquin and Chiara look at the food they are about to try. tried. We made Chaira try it. nice 5 points.
Thursday, April 7th, 2016 Ritz bits with cheese When I opened the package of Ritz, I thought it was normal crackers. I was more interested how the cheese between these crackers tasted. I took the first piece, put it in my mouth and nothing. Where is my Ritz with cheese. I was surprised. I’ve never had crunchy air in my mouth. I was curious and I took a second piece. I was focused on the cheese this time. Nothing. Where is my cheese. I bought Ritz with cheese, where is my cheese. I was eating more and more pieces and I started to like it. I ate all the pieces, just one last Ritz with cheese remained. I pulled it out from the plastic bag and I realized where my cheese was. It was one big chunk of cheese. I was too afraid to eat it. Joaquín bravely took it and ate it. It took a while before he said anything. I thought his mouth is glued up. A few minutes later he finally opened his mouth and he demanded another piece of cheese with Ritz. Germany & Equador - They taste like chemicals, but i like them. Ritz bits with cheese are normal crackers, just you have to be trained to identifiy the cheese taste. Or you will be lucky and you get Ritz covers with cheese. I would recommend them more than mini muffins, but If you have the choice, take the Girl Scout cookies. Robin’s Eggs I didn’t think anything about these nice looking chocolate Easter eggs. I had experience from other junk food and I realized that I can’t have any expectations. I took the first egg in my mouth. Super sweet fla-
Experiential
The Pepperbox | Page 9
vor spread in my mouth. I felt a sweet taste, but it wasn’t sugar. I would say that it was some kind of artificial sweetener. I cracked the egg and inside was much more sugar. I ate it as fast as I was able to and then I closed the package. I was thinking about these eggs for while. Then I had to try another one. It was same, disgusting flavor of artificial sweetener and sugar inside. I don’t know what I expected. I closed the package and I took the Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup. I wanted try something else. But I started thinking about Robin's Eggs again. I realized that I was cursed. I knew I hate that taste but I have to have more and more these eggs. Italy & Sweden - It's to sugary and it doesn’t taste like anything. Robin’s Eggs are super disgusting sweets, but it makes you eat them all. You really don’t want to buy them. You’ll get Robin’s Eggs addiction. Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup Reese’s are basically peanut butter covered by chocolate. Peanut butter is one of my favorite American junk food. Reese’s were my last junk food that I had to try. I opened my package and I took first bite. I was surprised, It was really, really good. My friends told me it’s good, but after all the taste tests, I didn’t believe that of these would taste good. Peanut butter and chocolate are a great combination and I was happy that I finally found something that could beat Girl Scout cookies. Italy - Chocolate and peanut butter should be more equals.. After a long talk we decided that in a very close race Girl Scout cookies won.
Jakub Macha/PEPPERBOX
Joaquin tries his first Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup.
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Experiential
Thursday, April 7th, 2016
Turnin’ up the heat Marley Tavernier-Fine
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A & E Editor
epper has always been the enemy. Or, not to discriminate; chilies, mustard, wasabi, garlic, onions, ginger, or curry. Basically anything that ranks above a zero on the Scoville Scale is outlawed from my diet. So taking a week to try and experiment with different spicy foods was definitely out of my comfort zone. Capsaicin, the organic chemical that causes certain foods to be spicy, is the natural defense mechanism that protects chili peppers from predators in the wild, aka spice-hating humans. When someone greedily chows down on spicy food, the capsaicin molecules bind to the pain receptors on their tongue, called VR1 receptors. These signals are sent to the brain, and leave you with the same burning sensation you would get from sticking your hand in boiling water. And speaking of water, stay away from the agua when you can’t face the heat anymore, the water and oil (the capsaicin) don’t mix, only spreading the spice around. Try going for the fatty or sugary foods, dairy and chocolate will help dissolve and break up the capsaicin molecules, soothing your burning tongue (so hit up the chocolate ice cream).
Day 1: Keeping it mild
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reakfast: Scrambled Eggs w/ Hot Sauce. The line of hot sauces sat in front of me like a row of soldiers ready to wreak havoc on an enemy front, aka my taste buds. My scrambled eggs looked so innocuous to start. Within the first bite I couldn’t avoid the groan that escaped me; my eyes immediately started watering, and the back of my throat burned like the surface of the sun. I lunged for the glass of milk I had thankfully placed close at hand. And this is day 1.
Lunch: Chorizo burrito. My tongue thanked me this time. Biting into the burrito from the student store was stressful initially, but the anticipation was worse than the actual effect. Even the garden salsa Sunchips are spicier than this burrito.
Day 2: Bring on the burn
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inner: Salmon, fried rice, curry, Trader Joe’s Hot & Sweet mustard,some of yesterday’s hot sauce. Dinner. The epitome of spicy meals. I had some trepidations after yesterday’s breakfast, and I wasn’t keen on trying the hot sauce again. Maybe it was the lateness of the hour or my general exhaustion, but I didn’t react as badly to the heat as I thought I would. By the end of the meal, I was gladly dragging my salmon through the puddle of mustard, salsa, teriyaki, and curry, and barely noticing the spice at all. For the first time in my life, I was actively seeking out the heat. It was a novel experience, but an eye-opening one, (sinus-opening as well).
Day 3: Kicking it up a notch
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unch: Tio Tomaso’s Hot Salsa Roja. Bringing a big container of salsa and a bag of tortilla chips to 5th period is always a recipe for disaster if you mind sharing your food. But with the spiciness of that salsa, I didn’t have to worry too much about going hungry. The general consensus was that spicy sauce was HOT! It left most people’s mouths seriously burning. I think it was a testament to my increasing toleration that I was able to enjoy the taste of the salsa instead of simply being blown out of the water by the spice.
Day 4: Wasabi, chili, and Cheetos, oh my!
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utrition Break: Oven Baked Flamin’ Hot Cheetos. I was
Photo Courtest of Anita Tavernier
Pondering the fearsome Habanero. definitely not looking forward to trying these. My thoughts on them pre-tasting were that they strongly resembled pieces of styrofoam spray-painted red. When I first opened the bag, the smell that emanated from the fire-engine colored snacks was instantly off-putting; it reminded me of tomatoes, oranges, and sadness. I gingerly placed on on my tongue. bracing myself for the burn. The Cheetos were spicy, spicier than you would think. I couldn’t choke down more than a few before passing the bag along, and fanning my burning mouth till the class ended. Lunch: Wasabi Roasted Seaweed Snacks & Spicy Green Peas. Having never really tried wasabi before, I knew that it was a different kind of spice, but I wasn’t sure what to expect. I was pleasantly surprised with the seaweed though; wasabi is strangely delicious. It was by far my favorite hot food I tried. The chili peas definitely made my mouth burn, even though according to the label they contained no actual chili, but they didn’t taste bad. I found it really enlightening to be able to finally notice the difference between the nuances of
wasabi spice and chili pepper spice.
Day 5: Cajun style
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unch: Cajun Fries & a chocolate malt. By Friday, even Cajun spice was no match for me. I was getting over my aversion to the spiciness and was able to really enjoy the different flavors of the Cajun seasoning that completely engulfed the fries. I have to admit, I would take regular fries over the spiced ones, but these were definitely worth getting again. And a chocolate malt is undoubtedly the perfect drink to soothe a burning mouth.
Final Thoughts:
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y the end of the week, I actually felt proud of how much my tolerance had increased. Far from shying away at the mention of hot and spicy foods, I was really enjoying looking for and trying them. Am I going to slather my meals with hot sauce and pepper every chance I get? Probably not, but I will make a point to be more adventurous with spice. So bring on the curry, and the salsa; the jambalaya, and the plain ol’ black pepper. I’ve proved to myself that I can handle the heat.
Thursday, April 7th, 2016
The Pepperbox | Page 11
Experiential
Who you gonna call? Alley Perry
Editor-in-Chief
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ow many times have you exclaimed incredulously at a horror movie “No don't go in there!” Or “Why would you do that?!”? It’s almost instinctual, a futile effort of dissuading the main character from doing something that will so clearly result in their death. I too have experienced this frustrating struggle, from the pieces of scary movies that I have glimpsed through the spaces in between my fingers I have consistently thought the same thing; “How could these people be so stupid?” Armed with my extensive knowledge of Horror movie tropes and the illusion of the invincibility of youth, I plan to explore that stupidity. I have always been somewhat on the fence about the spirit world. I go from rolling my eyes as my mother watches “Long Island Medium” to frantically jumping onto my bed to avoid being snatched by a demon that probably lives beneath my boxsprings. Neither argument for or against the existence of ghost seems defini-
tively logical to me. If ghosts are real then where's the scientific proof? The indisputable historical documentation? The ghost fossils? But if ghosts aren’t real then how do you explain seasons 1-12 of “Ghost Adventures”? Much like Edward vs Jacob, I just can’t seem to pick a side. First step to being a horror movie character: provoke the angry spirits. To accomplish this, I first delved into the world of ghouls and ghosts by trying my luck with a newly purchased Ouija board. Dimly lit room? Check. Group of companions that share the same naivety about Ouija boards as I do? Check. Actual spirits to commune with? Debatable. I opened the sacred cardboard box of the surely supernatural Ouija board to hopefully unveil the secrets that the combined power of “The Mystifying Oracle” and Hasbro™ might reveal to me. Unbeknownst to me there are certain rules that accompany a Ouija board, rules that though printed clearly on the inside of the box, I elected to mostly ignore. Rule #1: “NEVER use the Ouija board if you think it's just a game.” Rule #2: “NEVER use the Ouija board alone.” Rule #3: “NEVER use the Ouija board in a cemetery.”
Rule #4: “NEVER leave the planchette on the Ouija board when you aren’t using it.” And spookily enough; Rule #5: “NEVER forget to say goodbye to the Ouija Spirits.” Jinkies those are some serious D-grade scary movie spooks. Nevertheless, I wasn’t about to let sub-par Ouija cliches stop me from continuing my quest in the exploration of stupidity. Sitting cross legged in a circle of four of my fellow ghost hunters, we each placed two fingers on the planchette, asked a question and waited. This pattern continued to repeat itself until one of us inevitable got bored of the lack of activity, or spooked by a tiny movement. We were getting nowhere. Each one of us had different beliefs when it came to the spirit world. The opinions ranged from uncompromising disbelief in ghosts or anything of a similar nature, to complete fear and conviction that the paranormal existed. I took a quick poll of the room. The final tally was three believers, one non-believer, and one undecided (me). “Not in the scooby doo way,” one clarified. “Ya I definitely believe in [para-
Alley Perry/PEPPERBOX
I ain’t afraid of no ghost.
normal] energy,” another confided. “Once I peed on a gravestone and nothing happened, so I’m pretty sure they don’t exist.” All very interesting points. The $20.00 Ouija board was basically a bust, so I turned to examining the next creepiest thing I had at my disposal. Many can attest to the fact that dolls are certifiably creepy, and from ages seven through sixteen I had a collection of porcelain dolls that sat atop my bookcase directly across from my bed. If movies like Chucky or Anabelle have an ounce of truth to them it’s a wonder I’m not dead. I even went as far to purchase an antique clown doll from a garage sale when I was nine. I was practically begging to be haunted. And yet, nothing happened. In my 17 years of life I have never once even felt an unexplained cold chill. Maybe ghost are scared of me. Besides seeking out an axe murderer to take part in my study of the paranormal I had pretty much exhausted my options. I don’t know of any local Indian burial grounds, and I wasn’t about to play Bloody Mary anytime soon. Not because I think it’s silly or childish, but because I wholeheartedly believe I will die. It took me 7+ years to get over it the first time, so no thanks, I’ll pass. I can confidently say I have explored stupidity thoroughly. Besides the Ouija board and my creepy dolls, I’ve recited a few Latin Incantations to no avail and hung out in my dusty dark attic alone. Also, I found this super neat amulet in the floorboards of my new house, I think I’m going to start wearing it everyday. Partially because it's cool and partially because I can’t take it off now. My research into the world of the paranormal has led me to the relatively relieving and partly lame conclusion that maybe ghosts just don’t exist. Or maybe all my meddling has just jinxed me a million times over, who really knows.
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Experiential
Hipster confidential Asher Critch Reporter
B
eing a hipster is a state of mind, one that is full of coffee and listening to indie rock and old school music. It is a state of mind I experienced for seven glorious, vinyl filled days. Before we get into the aspects of my Hipster journey, let me tell you about their history. The origins of hipsters date back to the 1940’s, when middle class youths tried to imitate the lifestyle of African American Jazz musicians. After WWII, this lifestyle expanded and became apart of the “Beat” generation. For those of you who don’t know, the Beat generation were writers that went against the social norms, spiritual seekers, and experimented with psychedelic drugs. Jack Kerouac, a major pioneer of the Beat generation, described 1940s hipsters as, "rising and roaming America, bumming and hitchhiking everywhere as characters of a special spirituality". Hipsters now are independent thinkers that are into scarves, coffeehouses, indie rock, trending fashion, and progressive politics. But enough about the history, let’s get into my magical hipster journey. I began my hipster crusade on March 11, 2016. As soon as I put on my Hipster gear I was transported to another dimension. Right off the bat I wanted to hang out at Northtown Coffee and type away on my
laptop. My music taste had to change from old school rock n roll to indie rock bands such as Arcade Fire, Alabama Shakes, The Black Keys, Radiohead, Mumford & Sons, and Vampire Weekend. Not to mention Band of Horses, Walk the Moon, R.E.M, The Verve, Arctic Monkeys, Bob Dylan, Weezer, Imagine Dragons, Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros (DEEP BREATH!), Counting Crows, Coldplay, The White Stripes, AAAANNND Blur. The obscure sounds of acoustic and crunchy guitar mixed with unique lyrics were something to behold. I was further immersed into
Thursday, April 7th, 2016
Kate Breyer/PEPPERBOX
The two hipster geniuses, Asher Critch and Jordan Chasescott.
in the final stages of divorce. As the story moves along he Being a hipster meets an artificial intelligence by Scarlett Johansis a state of mind, voiced son, that he falls in love with. one that is full Throughout the film Theodore more and more in love of scarves, vi- falls with Samantha and Samantha nyl, acoustic gui- gains more and more intelligence. To wrap things up Her is tars, indie rock, a wonderful hipster film with and a whole a soundtrack by Arcade Fire. Hipster cinematography is lot of coffee. one thing, but hipster events such as Open mic night at the Hipster beyond by subject- Northtown coffee propels the ing my brain to the realm of hipster energy just over the hipster film. I decided to endure line. This was the hipster event Spike Jonze’s Her, Supposedly of my life. This was a place one of the most hipster films in where hipsters came together existence. Right out of the gate and experienced poetry, acousit had the trademarks of a hip- tic guitars, and coffee. This was ster film, lonely depressed so- like Mecca for hipsters, actucially awkward dude meets an ally that would be Seattle, but eccentric free spirit that helps this was pretty close. On Friday, him break his shell. The movie March 18, 2016 I slipped on my begins with Theodore, a lonely scarf, plaid jacket, and beandepressed man who is played ie hat and attended open mic by Joaquin Phoenix, who is night. The acts performing at
open mic night included a rock band (which I missed because I was a little late), a comedian, acoustic guitar player number one, a dude complaining about his terrible life (awkward), a poet reciting an old english tale, acoustic guitar player number two, another poet, acoustic guitar player number three, and acoustic guitarist four. During the performances I noticed many hipsters with their finely trimmed beards, plaid shirts, and wavy sculpted hair. This event was what rounded my hipster expedition off. My time as a hipster was a long and arduous journey. This journey burned me out on coffee and indie rock. Being a hipster for a week was a very interesting period of my life. I feel like this experience has educated me on the ways of the hipster. Being a hipster is a state of mind, one that is full of scarves, vinyl, acoustic guitars, indie rock, and a whole lot of coffee.
Thursday, April 7th, 2016
Experiential
The Pepperbox | Page 13
A-town ride-along: a day with the fuzz Peter Shao
H
Online Editor
ead spinning. Slightly dizzy from blood loss. Out of breath from a frantic bike ride. Sounds like the perfect situation to go to the police station, right? I sat in the front office of the Arcata Police Station, waiting for an officer to come and take me away. For a job shadow that is. After donating for the blood drive, and automatically violating the “no strenuous activity after donation” rule, I biked at breakneck speed to make it to my 11:00 appointment with the police. I sat in the front office, and waited. And then waited some more. And then composed the beginning of this article. Sent off a few texts. By the time Officer Chris Wilson came to get me, my nervousness had abated, and I was simply trying to fight off the urge to take a nap (also probably due to losing a pint of blood that morning). He introduced himself to me, with a more casual air than I was expecting, and told me to “hop in the car”. For my first time in a police vehicle, it was surprisingly comfy. I was expecting to sit in the shotgun seat of a classic Crown
Victoria, the iconic model of taxi cabs and old-timey police chases. Instead, I found myself in the front seat of a SUV, with two big guns next to me (a literal shotgun seat). We hit the road. The actual experience of cruising around in a cop car was much more mellow that I was expecting, as we patrolled randomly throughout northern Arcata, just engaging in casual conversation. It was a little awkward at first, but it gave me a chance to turn the tables and interrogate a police officer for a change, instead of the other way around. Most of the conversation focused around the a police officer’s daily activities, but I found it really interesting to learn more about Officer Wilson’s personal stories. He’s been an officer for almost eight and a half years, and was dragged into the police force by a volunteering activity, but it's amazing that after so much time in a difficult occupation, he still has a love of his job. Far from burning out, he finds being a police officer fun. “I spent three years riding a bike around for a living, and I love riding bikes” said Officer Wilson. I think I may have found a kindred spirit in him, at least where bike riding is concerned. The interior of the police cruiser
Peter Shao/PEPPERBOX
The Dispatch Center at the police station.
reminded me of the control center of a spaceship or submarine, it was chock full of different gadgets, all with the purpose of stopping crime in its tracks. Multiple computers, scanners, radios, sensors, radars, and more filled the front seat. I was sitting amongst thousands of dollars of technology, but the officer himself made me more nervous than the electronics. The gear that police officers wear may look light, but it weighs about 30 pounds, consisting of a heavy-duty bulletproof vest, a gun, taser, pepper spray, flashlight, baton, two pairs of handcuffs, extra magazines, a knife, gloves, and a radio. Unfortunately for me, the day I did this ride-along was a ridiculously slow one, at least for crime in Arcata. We actually ended up looking for crimes, but to no avail. A trip back to the police department building (possibly just to kill time) let me see the dispatch office, and the one senior officer there, handling all the calls and directions on her own. Officer Wilson did get a call in the afternoon about an individual in a southern Arcata housing facility who may have been strung out on meth, so we drove over to take a look. At the location, we saw a few other officers talking to a woman, who was clearly not high on anything, so once again we headed back to the police car. As we were walking across the street, Officer Wilson looked at me and said “Peter, have
I spent three years riding a bike around for a living, and I love riding bikes. - Officer Wilson you ever seen someone on meth before?”. My answer was no, so we went looking for a familiar face, at least for the Arcata Police Department. We looked for a man named Justin, who was a meth addict who had been arrested many times, and had a close relationship with the police. He had a reputation for eating meth, sometimes in lethal doses, and could usually be counted on to be intoxicated in some way. But when we found him, he was simply walking along the street, in a relatively normal state. It went along with the tone of most of my day with the police, Arcata had had a slow...no, glacial day, at least in the crime department. My ride-along had been calm, to say the least, but that doesn’t mean I hadn’t learned a ton. And maybe it's a good thing, perhaps Arcata is just becoming more of a sleepy small college town.
Peter Shao/PEPPERBOX
Arcata Police Department bike.
The Pepperbox | Page 14
Experiential
Thursday, April 7th, 2016
A week long
Caitlyn Patterson
Feature Editor f I’m being honest with you all, I’m not entirely sure why I got myself into this in the first place or what the exact purpose of doing this was supposed to be. I mean, what kind of person would let their grandparent dress them for an entire week for the mere amusement of other people? But I did it. It may have been a slightly horrific and tremendously uncomfortable experience, but I did it. So here you go, kids.
I
Day 1 My Grandma picks out a tshirt with a large logo of a guy that says “hey” on it. She says it’s cute. I don’t think she realizes it’s some guy from that Duck Dynasty show. After I
inform her she says, “Those are some rich guys, those Duck Dynasty guys. What’s so wrong with a beard and a hat?” After putting on the shirt I’m realizing that it was meant for a 10 year old. Also, the jeans she picks out I haven’t worn for two years and can’t seem to move my legs more than four inches off of the ground. I look like a potato on toothpicks. She grabs out a pair of black boots and a sweater that obviously doesn’t match anything I’m wearing as she completes her first master-My grandma piece. As I go through my day at school, no one seems to notice my change in fashion. A girl a hole to avoid being seen. in my class even compliments my shirt. If everyday is as low Day 2 key as this outfit, I think I might Abort mission. I repeat, abort be able to make it through this mission. I absolutely can not week without crawling into express to you all how much I
Photos courtesy of Annie Armstrong
Day 1
What’s so wrong with a beard and a hat?
Photos courtesy of Annie Armstrong
Day 2
wish I did not have to wear today’s outfit. She’s really done it. Today, she’s decided it’s a good day for me to wear a hat. She finds me a tan one with rows of sequins on it. To go along with that, she brings out my purple floral print jeans and a teal shirt with a lace skull on it. Lastly, for her finishing touch, a cat sweater. The bottom is covered with cats and the top with paw prints. It sure is something. I ask her why she decided on this particular sweater and she responds, “Because you love your cat. You’re a cat person and this sweater is meant for a cat person.” I guess you are what you wear with her. I’m a little uncertain of what these next few days will bring me. “You can get through this,” one of my friends tell me
Photos courtesy of Annie Armstrong
Day 3
Thursday, April 7th, 2016
The Pepperbox | Page 15
Experiential
fashion fiasco
when I arrive at school. “My most sincere condolences” another one said. Besides my two friends who can’t seem to appreciate the true beauty of my grandma’s fashion sense, no one else says anything about my suddenly daring fashion choices. I notice a few people pretending not to stare at my sweater but I had expected a more obvious reaction from my peers. I’m not sure if I’m actually pulling these grandma clothes off, if everyone has decided to keep their speculations to themselves, or if I’ve merely become invisible. Day 3 Today is Saint Patrick’s Day and even though my family is only slightly Irish, my grandma still likes to express our heritage whenever it’s possible. So obviously my odds for to-
day’s outfit looking moderately normal are slim to none. I am flabbergasted when she
This sweater is meant for a cat person.
green peacoat jacket, but the outfit is not nearly as expressive as I thought it would be. “Not too shabby, Grandma,” I think to myself moments before she pulls out a pair of green dollar tree glasses that are shaped like leprechaun hats. I wish I could say I’m even the slightest bit surprised, but no, I’m not.
I get to school my fellow Pepperbox staff thinks that I have abandoned my article and have not been dressed by my grandma, but they are wrong. Grandma-1; Pepperbox-0.
It’s been a long journey, folks, but here we are. From the the mix of different fashions on day one, the cat sweater from day Day 4 two, day three’s eye-popping Today is the last day of my accessories, and day four’s wellfashion adventure and I have put together outfit, we’ve basigreat news for you all. My cally seen it all. If this experigrandma has successfully put ence has taught me anything, together an eye-pleasing outfit it’s that fashion is a choice, for me and I couldn’t be more not something other people - My grandma proud. She’s picked out a white can choose for you. It was cerand black top with black leg- tainly an uncomfortable expepicks out a green dress that’s gings and a black scarf. She rience not being able to wear actually not the most unapthen adds a black sweater and what I wanted, but then again, pealing thing in the world. tall, black boots. It may sound it was one less thing I had to I’m a little let down when she like a lot of black, but this outfit think about in the morning. pairs it with leggings and a shockingly works well. When
Photo courtesy of Annie Armstrong
Day 4
SPRING SEASON Spring is in the air at Arcata High. While many students spend their time staring out the windows at the sunny weather, daydreaming about spring break, or trying hard not to think about the upcoming AP testing, our tiger sports teams are hard at work showing Arcata’s stuff. This spring season welcomes all the new faces to our teams, we look forward to seeing what exciting stories and victories spring from this season and the rest of the year. Our seniors will be moving on soon, but we’re excited to share one last round of spring sports with them.
They’re the lean, mean, boys tennis team, showing off their skills with a stellar season so far. Out of the nine championships they’ve been in this season, they’ve won all but one. Tiger tennis FTW.
After a rocky season last year, girls softball have got their claws out this spring, they’ve already won two of their games. The team has a lot of new Freshmen this year, but they’re showing their stripes as well as the senior tigers.
Despite a slightly smaller team than last year, this season’s track tigers are still running strong. After a few a few competitive league meets, they are looking forward to some fun runs over spring break, especially a meet at Coos Bay.
TIGER SPORTS Boys golf has got an older team this year, with seniors dominating the green they’re sure to putt their way to glory. This spring team may be small, but they prove that anyone can dust off their clubs; no one can drive a wedge between this team.
Boys JV Baseball: calm, cool, and collected.
Boys Varsity Baseball poses for their picture.
This year, Arcata high swim team has seen a boost in it’s numbers. With a strong new group of freshmen joining the team, they’re sure to make a splash at this season’s upcoming meets.
Banners courtesy of Paul Swenson
JV Baseball courtesy of Daisy Nutter. Varsity Baseball photo courtesy of Bob Wallace.
The Pepperbox | Page 18
Experiential
Thursday, April 7th, 2016
Drawn to a new experience Kiana Vigil-Gibbs
I
Reporter
wouldn’t really consider myself a good artist, probably not even a mediocre one. My drawing basically consists of stick figures and doodling on my handouts and notes in class. Despite my artistic abilities, or lack of, I decided to attend one of Joyce Jonte’s figure drawing classes. I first heard of these classes last year and had been wanting to go to one of them, but never actually got to doing it. As I got out of my car, I wondered what the class was going to be like and how my “art” would turn out. I walked into her studio and was greeted with delicious lemon bars and cookies. After introducing myself I grabbed some paper, a pencil, and some watercolor pencils. I walked to a small table and sat down next to a friend.
Everyone just gets to listen to good music, eat good food, and draw. - Althea Newman When asked what she likes about figure drawing, Junior Althea Newman said, “ I really enjoy figure drawing because it’s a very relaxed, friendly environment. Everyone just gets to listen to good music, eat good food, and draw.” The model stepped onto the platform and Joyce announced
the beginning of the one minute drawings. I sat there for the first 45 seconds just trying to figure out how I was going to draw the model. By the end of looking and thinking the model switched poses and I started on a new drawing. I looked at my attempted human figure and laughed a little; it looked like a big blob. “Oh well,” I thought, “maybe it’ll turn out better when I have a little more time.” Next we began five minute poses. When I looked at everyone else drawing they made it look so easy. I thought, “How do people do this with such ease.” I started on my new drawing of the pose. The five minutes were up and I was left with yet another blobby looking figure, not much better than the last. We did a few more five minute poses which I tried my best to draw, yet ended up with the same unrecognizable results for all of them. Next, onto ten minute poses! I continued to draw and erase what I had drawn until I was finally at least semi-pleased with my results. I sat there wondering what else I could add until the time was up. I added nothing, but looked at everyone else’s drawings instead. “Wow, they’re all so good, HOW?! HOW?!??”, I thought to myself. I wondered how long all these people had been drawing and if they had practiced a lot or if they were just naturally artistic. After leaving the class I sat in my car looking over all my artwork. I really need to practice my drawing. The class was very fun, even if my figures turned out more abstract than realistic. Hopefully I will have the time to go more often and improve. After attending this class I was left in even more awe of how people can draw things that look exactly like a photo and how people have the patience to sit there for hours and finish their drawings.
Kiana Vigil-Gibbs/PEPPERBOX
My first drawings of the 30 second and 1 minute poses.
Kiana Vigil-Gibbs/PEPPERBOX
Two of the fifteen minute pose drawings.
Thursday, April 7th, 2016
The Pepperbox | Page 19
Experiential
Delving beneath the surface Rex Bachemin
Social Media Director
I
t’s Friday the 18th. 3 o’clock. I’ve been sitting down in a seat for hours on end, watching permanent ink constantly being used. But I’m not at school, and this ink isn’t from a pen for taking notes on a presentation, or filling out a worksheet. No, I just watched loads of ink become etched into someone's skin for the rest of their life. At Visual Tattoo in Arcata, I got the chance to take a look at Dean Schubert’s artistry in-action. I scheduled an appointment with him and his partner, Sean Grimes. I’ve never been the artsy type to have such an interest in tattooing, but there’s always been the “getting one will look bad at a job interview” controversy that comes to mind, and the fact that it’s on your skin FOREVER. To etch deeper into the world of tattoo artistry, I went to visit Dean for a day at his local shop and talk about his passion and involvement with tattoo artistry, so I could understand more about it. (four hours earlier) It’s 11 o’clock, and the second-story shop just opened. I walk in to see a front desk, a folded out dressing wall to my right, and fine wooden floors, really giving off a relaxed studio-like vibe. I go up to the front desk and Dean walks up from behind the side-wall. We shake hands and introduce ourselves while I gaze at all the symbols and col-
ors covering his arms and neck. We head over past the wall, his client is waiting with his left arm exposed ready to have the outline of his piece [Griever from Final Fantasy VIII] filled and finished. My head shifts and gazes at the rest of the shop. There is a surround sound system, desks with illustrations taped to them, racks with ink in every color and the walls were decorated with framed sketches of him and Dean’s finest works including everything from typical Redwood Trees to old school U.S. Navy tats, Geishas and dragons with Japanese characters, tribals, vintage biker skulls and playing cards, as well as busty ladies with hourglass figures like you’d see from the 1950’s. Dean saran wraps/tapes down a paper towel over an armrest for his client’s arm, puts on a pair of latex gloves and starts hooking up some needles to his tool and dips them in a shade of black ink. I know needles have to be sterilized and disposed as hazardous material after use to prevent the transmission of hepatitis, but I’m curious what else the state requires in a sanitary environment for tattoo shops. “State regulations say we have to take blood borne pathogen tests,” he said, “we don’t want any transferring of diseases, we have to keep it clean”. He turns on some music, puts on his glasses, then starts engraving black-grey ink within the outlines of the piece For 30 minutes or so I’ve been watching Dean move at a smooth pace with the needles on his client. Sean walks into the shop,
been in business for 20 years, I’m 48 but I feel 28. My clients are younger people, around 18 to 25 years old, so I always feel young. You don’t get caught up in that trap of being around older people.” An hour or so goes by. The black shades on the tattoo have been executed, now it’s time for Dean to complete his client’s first-ever piece by adding the real colors. He mixes blue-silver in a small plastic cup and starts working. Time goes on as Dean keeps filling in bare skin with ink. As i was gazing at his client’s first tattoo, I had to ask Dean about the time when he got his first tattoo Rex Bachemin/PEPPERBOX
A tattoo artist in his element. we introduce ourselves and soon starts working on some illustrations at a desk in the back. We all talk and crack jokes to pass time. He engraves the shades of black ink nicely and accurately and wipes away excess ink and blood every two seconds. Engraves, wipes off, engraves, wipes off and so on… Since he’s been so casually spot-on with tattooing this piece throughout our session, I had to ask what inspired him to be a tattoo artist in the first place, and how long he’s been doing it for and his feelings for it now “I actually studied film-making. I always drew my whole life, but never aspired to be a tattoo artist. If it weren’t for illustrations and drawings, I wouldn’t be here.” He dips the tool in lighter shade of black ink and goes on to tell me his time as an artist “I’ve basically
“I had gotten four tats, two on each arm.” he says “I wanted to get some serious, exposed work, but there was the whole ‘you won’t get a job’ stigma. So why not have this as a job?” I never did understand the whole ‘job’ debate over exposed tattoos, but pursuing a career in the art made total sense. If someone can’t get hired for expressing themselves through tattoo artistry, then working with tattoos seems like a potential path to take for a career. As the final hour passes, I witness this masterpiece come to a finish. Dean’s perspective on tattoo artistry changed my personal view while he worked. It was impressive to watch something get ingrained into skin forever I appreciated the time and focus Dean put into his work during the job shadow, and the knowledge I acquired through his perspective as an artist.
The Pepperbox | Page 20
Survivorman Len Perry
I
Opinion Editor
t wasn’t even 8:00 in the morning before we entered Orick and pulled off onto Bald Hills Road where the trailhead was marked by a small brown sign. I hug my sister over the central console of her Subaru and say goodbye. For me it is just another day - another regular week full of new experiences. For my sister, however, this is possibly the last time she is ever going to see me. I can see it in her eyes - the raw concern struck me as unusual considering my sister is normally a very happy, carefree person. I don’t know what to think - from the moment I was first assigned to write this article, I was excited beyond belief. Now however, in the face of my stressing sister, I am overcome with worry and anxiety. For a moment, I wonder if it is worth it - should I even bother going through with this whole ordeal just to write an article for my high school journalism class? I must. I walk out of the car and “How much harder,” I ask myself, “could surviving in a temperate rainforest be than surviving in the concrete jungle?” I am Len Perry - but you can call me survivorman. This week, I am going to be plunging into the brutally unforgiving wilderness of Northern California - in specific, I am going to be surviving in Redwood National Park, sharing a home with black bears, cougars, and even beavers. I’d call myself pretty darn experienced when it comes to survival - with good reason, too - I used to ritualistically tune in to Survivorman every day after class in middle school. If anybody has the skill to survive
Experiential
in the woods, it’s definitely me. I cross over a wooden bridge with chipping red paint on it - there’s a raging creek beneath it - a testament to the downpour we got last night. Moving through the woods, I see dappled sunlight filtering through the vibrantly green canopy above me. Birds sing and dance in the alder trees all around. It is an incredibly gorgeous day, and although it is still morning, I can smell and feel the warmth in the gentle breeze. A family of deer are walking through the huckleberry bushes cautiously, waiting for any excuse to burst into a run. I begin to stand up, and before I can even straighten my legs fully, they’re running. Walking onward, I emerge into a clearing that has bright purple and blue wildflowers growing up to my waist. Two birds tango in the sunlight above me, and for a second I swear I can hear Bob Marley’s Redemption Song being played. As I walk onward into the clearing, I realize my ears hadn’t been deceiving me; up in an oak tree is a bearded man playing the guitar. His legs dangle off of the thick, low-lying branch into the tall flowers. There is a hammock up above him, and I can see somebody swinging leisurely back and forth inside of it. The sunlight is glistening off of each dark green leaf on the tree. I continue walking. Halfway through the field, I realize it is infested with ticks. I jump up into the air, flailing my arms all over the place like a maniac trying to get the vile things off of me. The guitar stops, and I look up to see the man staring at me from across the sea of wildflowers. In the hammock I can see a pair of eyes peering out in my direction. I run out of the clearing into the woods. Cool fresh air fills my lungs, contrasting the stale, summer-like atmosphere I experienced in the
Friday, April 8th, 2016
Len Perry/PEPPERBOX
Early morning sunlight glances through the redwood curtain field of flowers. Old growth redwoods surround me now, and I take a moment to enjoy the tranquil energy they provide. I can hear a creek gurgling, as well as the muffled sound of a beehive in the distance. My feet ache from breaking in my new hiking boots, so I unlace them and set them beside me. I can’t imagine what I’m going to be doing out here for a week but I know it will be relaxing. I set up my hammock and lie down. A large drop of water hit me directly in the middle of my forehead, rudely awakening me from my afternoon snooze. I didn’t realize. My boots are gone. I jump up and look all around, but my boots are gone. I can’t believe this stuff… who would steal a pair of boots from somebody taking a nap? It was probably that guy with the beard…
I couldn’t have been asleep for that long! I just hope that whoever took them needed them more than me. Another drop of water smacks me in the face. I take my socks off and stuff them into my pockets, and begin heading toward the sound of water so as to quench my thirst. This creek, like the first, is flowing healthfully from recent rains. I notice, however, that the water is actually rising slightly, but noticeably nevertheless. Thick dark clouds roll in above me, blocking out the sun sure as a veil. Lightning lights up the dark sky, and rain begins relentlessly pouring down on everything around me; wind whispers through the quiet canopy above. Gradually, the breeze picks up, shifting from a slight whisper to a deafening roar; in seconds, branches are flying down from the
Friday, April 8th, 2016
trees like javelins being thrown by giants. I look around frantically for shelter - for anything I can take cover under to protect my fragile humanly form from the world that is falling down around my bare feet. Even though I could barely open my eyes in the heavy rain, I spot a large fallen log and I spring for it, huddling up alongside it. A tree twists and contorts in the wind, eventually snapping over. The trees around it tried to support their injured comrade, but it was no use. The tree slipped from their grip, spinning as it fell in slow motion toward the earth. I could hear the tree’s branches crumbling beneath it like toothpicks prior to hitting the ground with a tremendous thud. In the distance, I can see and hear my hammock flapping wildly in the wind like a distressed flag, suddenly snapping and flying off into the distance. I start crying. And to believe I was sitting comfortably in my room eating an omelette only a few hours ago.... I swear to you, I was about to have a heart attack when I felt something fall against my shoulder. I snapped my head backward like I was possessed, only to see the same bearded man from the field standing there with his friend. Exclaiming through a smile, his friend breaks the ice “Hey!” She holds my pair of boots out toward me. The bearded man continued in a slow, steady voice; “Our dog, Toad, brought these back to us - they wouldn’t happen to be yours, would they?” As I reached my hand out to grab them, thunder struck and nearly knocked me off my feet. The couple is smiling, making direct, soul-piercing eye contact.
Experiential
I don’t know really know what to think at this point, but I have a feeling I fell earlier or I never woke up from that nap or something, because this is simply surreal. Slowly, my lips open and sounds begins to spill out “Yeah, they actually are mine.” My words sounded like a whisper over the wild wind and crashing rain, so I sound off again. “Yeah! Those actually are mine!” Another tree falls towards me and crashes against the log I lie against, shattering upon impact; wood shards fly everywhere and I turn away, sheltering my face. When I open my eyes again, they are still standing in the same place, smiling, except the boots are a little bit farther extended. I reach out and grab them. At this point, I realize neither of them are wearing shoes. I hear a deafeningly loud crackling noise that sends chills down my spine. Directly in front of me, a
tree contorts in the wind, rebounds, contorts again, and snaps. It’s falling directly on top of me - is this it? I cry louder as I write down the details of my impending death in my waterproof journalism notebook. I woke up in my bed at home, sweating and uncomfortable beyond belief. A soft morning light was seeping in through my cracked blinds, and I could hear a gentle rain falling. Of course the one week I had free to go camping, I would get sick. I still experienced survival, though. I experience survival every day of my life through the eyes and ears of those around me - those on the streets; those I love. I experience survival through friends crippled by drug addiction. I experience survival through the words of the homeless veterans on the streets, who deal not only with the post traumatic stress of yesterday’s wars, but
The Pepperbox | Page 21
also the present traumatic stress of our wars right here at home. No, there may not be mortars riddling our temples and schools, but we are all, nevertheless, actively engaged in a constant struggle. And it is a common struggle. A simple action. Each year as winter rolls around, over 200,000 people are unable to find shelter in our country alone - prejudices aside, they struggle with all the same problems we do - they just weren’t quite as lucky. Do what you can to help them, and keep in mind you could end up in their situation at any given moment - the world is very unpredictable, and it’s only becoming worse. Do whatever you can to make somebody’s life easier, and if nothing else, give them a smile. You never know what somebody has been through, and you never know what they go through each and every day to survive.
Kate Breyer/PEPPERBOX
Len Perry takes in his surroundings while basking in the sunshine.
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Experiential
Soaring through silks Emelia BensonMeyer News Editor
A
s a young child, I always looked forward to one specific Center Arts performance each year: the Peking Acrobats. I remember seeing the performers leap into the air, twisting themselves round and round fabrics until they were practically hanging from the ceiling. I was mesmerized as they filled the space with their incredible, seemingly superhuman actions. Ever since then, I have always wanted to learn more about acrobatics. The opportunity to try aerial silks was the perfect window into this world, one so different from that of dance that I am used to. Many years after that first peek into acrobatics, I pull up to a small red gym and attempt to prepare myself for the next hour and a half. I am nervous and excited; I hardly know what to expect. I’ve danced for several years, but I’ve never done anything even remotely similar to this before. I step out of the car and walk into the building and am immediately greeted by a friendly voice. After I’m introduced, I am told the warm-up routine and I watch the other members of the class as they go through each stretch: push-ups, leg lifts, something called burpees that I have never heard of before (luckily, my friend is there to explain it), and basic exercises with the silks. After familiarizing myself with the routine, I follow suit and begin my warm-up. I am tired after one round of stretches, only to be told that I need to repeat it twice more. I pull myself through the exercises, amazed at my lack of upper
body strength, yet I feel myself getting stronger as I continue. The instructor approaches me and begins teaching basic moves. Even though I know it is much more difficult than she makes it appear, I am eager to learn. The flips and twists she so flawlessly executes bring my mind back to the performances as a child. She lets go of the silk and offers it to me. I accept it timidly, placing my foot above the knot and twisting my leg around, only to twist it too many times and wrap it painfully in the fabric. I pull out my other leg, struggling to pull the silk off. Each time I make a sudden movement to try to kick the fabric off, I hear the sliding metal door of the gym rattle against the wall. I finally succeed in removing the silk, handing it to my friend. She tries and then I try again, going a bit farther with the trick each time. Eventually we are both able to do it. We are taught another trick and we try it once again, understanding it after several laughs and failed attempts. With each of the tricks I learn, I feel myself not only improving in my technique, but also simply enjoying myself. I hardly expected to be able to hold myself in the air, and there’s no doubt that it’s difficult, but it is doable, and more importantly, fun. As the class comes to an end and we watch the instructor tie up the silks for the night, I can hardly wait for the next session. I can feel in my arms and my fingers that I will be sore the next day, but this does not discourage me one bit from continuing. After stretching out, I go back to the car, smiling as I recall the past hour and a half -- time well spent. Despite my original doubts, I am more than
Thursday, April 7th, 2016
Kaelyn Tuermer-Lee/PEPPERBOX
I perform a splits trick with the silks. happy that I took this class. The though it is not easy, we are both four long days before Sunday’s surprised by how much more class seem infinitely longer than naturally it comes to us today. The instructor watches us and they did earlier this afternoon. I arrive at the gym a few min- asks if we would like to learn a utes before class begins on Sun- more advanced move. Though day, excited for class, yet once we are a bit hesitant, we agree again unsure what to expect be- and attempt the move with evencause there is a different teacher tual success. With each move, today. I enter the building and I gain a new perspective. I hang am greeted by the new instruc- upside down, watching people tor. I follow her over to the mats walk around me from below. I to warm up. The stretches are climb up in the air, reaching a bit different from Wednesday’s closer to the ceiling each time. As the class continues, we are class; they focus more on flexibility than before. This exer- taught more tricks. We learn cise is much easier for me than twists, climbs, and splits -- the the other; I hardly have any up- splits are my favorite. Though per body strength, but I do have each move is difficult, once we flexibility. Unfortunately, my are able to complete it, we befriend, a soccer player, was much come a bit more comfortable. After another fun and intense more comfortable with Wednesday’s warm-up, which focused class, we leave, excited to take solely on upper body strength. more in the future. Once again, I After warming up, we begin feel that I will be sore for a few to learn more tricks on the silks. days, but this does not deter me The instructor shows us new from wanting to continue with poses that are similar to those we the silks. As I drive home, I am learned on Wednesday, yet they tired, yet grateful that I was aren’t the exact same. My friend able to participate in an activand I both attempt the move, and ity as enlightening as this one.
Thursday, April 7th, 2016
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Experiential
Berry cool berries Kellen O’Neill Copy Editor
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magine biting into a fresh lemon and tasting sweet lemonade. Or crunching down on a jalapeno pepper and having it taste like spicy melted sugar. As crazy as this may seem, there is a substance out there that can make these various flavors a reality. It’s not a chemical compound manufactured by the military to make rations enjoyable for soldiers. It is not manufactured in drug labs and sold in alleyways. The substance mentioned is a natural growing fruit called miracle fruit or miracle berries. It gets its name from the chemical it contains, miraculin. When chewed slowly the miraculin inside the fruit has the ability to temporarily rewire the palate’s conception of sour. Although the effects of this berry seem suspicious, no known dangers associated with the ingestion of the fruit have been found. All of this information seemed rather unbelievable, so the Pepperbox staff and I decided to order some of these berries and conduct a taste testing of sorts. The berries were surprisingly easy to find but then again you can find nearly anything on the internet. Due to the high perishability of the fruit, the berries were most commonly available in the form of a tablet, which could be dissolved on the tongue. So we or-
AlleyPerry/PEPPERBOX
Left: The box that the miracle berry tablets came in. Right: One of the miracle berry tablets (hand for size comparison). dered the tablets off an official- trip. So as the last of the mirlooking website and hoped that acle berry tablet melted into they would arrive in a timely my tongue, I slipped on the fashion. Less than a week lat- blindfold and cleared my mind, er, all of the variables came preparing for the mind bendtogether for the taste testing. ing experience soon to come. Since the day was clear and The first cup is handed to me the sky was blue, it was decid- and I tilt it back, unsuspecting ed that the test would be con- of what horrible substances ducted outside. The supplies my classmates had poured in it. were set up on a black table Immediately a powerful taste and the test was ready to begin. unfamiliar to me overwhelmed The list of items to be ingest- my senses. Although the liquid ed were: vinegar, hot sauce, was slightly sweet, it was renlime juice, coffee, marshmal- dered totally non ingestible by lows, and, of course, miracle the strength of something I berry tablets. As per instruc- couldn’t quite detect. Through tion, I put the tablets on my my disgust I spit out the words, tongue and let them dissolve. “what was that,” and a voice It tasted like some freeze dried in the darkness outside of my fruit that had the potential to blindfold responded, “vinegar.” be good but had gone stale at The second cup came into my some point. As the berry was hand and suspecting such working its magic, another dirty a trick would not be repart of the experiment was laid peated. I again tilted the cup out: a blindfold. Not even the back to my lips. The sweetperception of my eyes could ness that filled my mouth was get in the way of my flavor immediately followed by a
burn that reached all the way to the back of my throat and lingered for a long time after. “Hot sauce?” I inquired. “Hot sauce,” the voice confirmed. More or less the test went on this way. Coffee had a slight chocolate flavor but the bitterness still remained. Marshmallows simply tasted like marshmallows. The only substance I tried that produced the desired effect was lime juice. It took on the flavor of super concentrated limeade. Even though the lime juice was the best tasting thing in the experiment, It would still have to be watered down by a large amount in order to be considered “good.” Then again, the only things I tasted under the effect of these berries were very extreme and would be considered “nasty” when ingested by themselves. After the test was over, I felt slightly nauseous for part the way but what else would you expect after drinking straight vinegar and hot sauce? Although these miracle berries did not turn out to be quite the phenomenon I had imagined, they definitely did have some effect on the taste buds. The extreme sourness of the lime juice was changed to an overpowering sweetness. Maybe if these berries were tried with foods or beverages that were not as strong as the ones I tried, this effect could be quite enjoyable. The miracle of these berries should in no way be diminished by the disappointment expressed throughout this article.
The Pepperbox | Page 24
Experiential
Thursday, April 7th, 2016
Future college football star over the thought of curling up in bed. I'm very energized, but Kate Breyer Photographer I hit the ice bath. Shaking from the cold but my body starts *Disclaimer: This article is 12:30pm: Tex sets out his daily 6:15 pm: Here it goes, one to relax, I miss meditating alentirely satirical. diet for me but I kindly decline stride, two strides… 30 sprints ready but I'm restraining for to go through with the meat up and down the HSU football this week of the life of a college 3am: The alarm clocks buzzes portion of it. One more period field completed. No time for football star. I've had 3 servings the sound of death and breaks and I face the workout of a col- rest. Keep moving. Time for the of rice and 5 sandwiches and my deep sleep. Time for a run in lege football player... Oh boy next ordeal. My muscles burn. my stomach is popping out. I'm Sweat beads drip from every tired of the taste of sandwichthe dark streets of Eureka. I ask inch of me. But it feels utter- es, this amount of daily carbs myself why I wanted to do this again, as I could easily complete 3:45 pm: Baseball time. I grew ly accomplishing and freeing. is the amount I'd consume in 2 weeks. My tummy feels the my precious sleep and wait till up with baseball on the TV 24/7, most full it's ever been even, after school for this run. But MLB games every summer, and nope, this is the life of a future throwing the ball around with 8:30 pm: I hop up in my truck to compared to Thanksgiving. But college football star, Cheyenne my dad so I tell myself this prac- head home and my whole body my muscles burn which is such (Tex) Keith. Little to no sleep tice won't be crazy hard. Ghiset- aches. I'm very distracted on my an accomplished feeling. 3 proand double workout days each ti gives me a hard time, as per 25 minute drive home, drooling tein shakes later and my muscles are resembling Popeye’s. and every day. He says his reasoning is that some of the most successful athletes do the same thing. I believe him and continue the workout. 200 sit-ups later, my abs ache but it feels amazing. 250 push-ups… Okay ow, my arms are shaking. 5 minutes straight of jump roping is what I enjoy the most this morning. bulk up in order to beat the opposing team, 5x my usual intake.
usual, but I sass him back and hit a homer to make his jaw drop.
6am: Scratch that, now I head to HSU for morning football practice. This is my favorite part of the day. I feel like one of the guys, I clearly fit in with my giant muscular physique. I even beat the entire team on their max weight reps today. Exhilarating.
8am: I sit in 1st period and have already eaten way over half of my usual daily intake of calories. Tex’s college diet calls for lots of carbs and overall calories to
Cheyenne Keith/PEPPERBOX
The after effects of partaking in Tex’s daily regimen for a week.
Thursday, April 7th, 2016
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Experiential
meets Hawaiian yogi Cheyenne Keith Sports Editor
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hen I was told I would be switching my workout routine and eating style with a yogi, Kate Breyer, I thought about the break from the exhausting life I was living. I thought about all the free time I would have to read and meditate every once in awhile. I assumed it would be a vacation. Little did I know how much focus and discipline it would take to connect with my mind, body and soul. Over the course of a week, I changed the way I ate, slept and the way I thought. My morning started off by sleeping in from my usual 3:00 AM time to 6:30 AM and enjoying beautiful meditation. I’d then eat an apple or banana with peanut butter and drink herbal tea for breakfast. The day was started off just right. At least, that was my mindset until second period rolled around, and I came to the realization that I was deprived of my one true love: food. I was hoping I would be able to at least eat a sandwich but no -mango cubes and almonds were on the menu instead. When lunch time finally hit, I felt starved. I started planning how I would sneak food around, but I knew that that wasn’t what I was trying to accomplish. Lightening my caloric intake from 5000 to 1300 was a tortuous task in itself. I usually pass that amount before first period even starts! Going an entire day like this seems impossible at this point with what I am used to. Yet, finding peace within myself was something I would soon find to be even harder.
Before 6th period, I was already exhausted so I took a break to go outside and attempt to meditate so I could convince myself to overcome this hunger. How do you even start meditation though? I had to find somewhere in the limited time before someone caught on to what I was doing to calm myself from the stress. Where would I go? I thought that maybe the senior lawn would be a good place, but it wasn’t. I soon learned that people think it’s weird when someone sits outside their window and rocks back and forth in a seated position with their eyes closed. Maybe it looked like an exorcism. Either way, I knew it was wrong. Oops! I come to the conclusion that I was doing it all wrong and I go back inside to youtube the steps so I wouldn’t embarrass myself more than I already did, but the restrictions on the computer stop me. I ask Kate what she knows. “You are going to need a mantra,” Kate told me when thinking about meditation. A mantra is the phrase or prayer you repeat to yourself throughout the day so that one may achieve a certain goal. It isn’t something that one just utters. A mantra is something one must strive to become. I figure given my current situation, I could come up with an appropriate one. “I’m full, I am full of food,” I repeat to myself while I meditate before baseball practice. It’s actually starting to work. I get through practice smoothly and I go to the forest to get closer with nature. I proceed to HealthSport’s 1.5 hour class to perform yoga poses and stretch and it comes to my attention that I couldn’t even touch my toes. Everyone was so experienced and it
Kate Breyer/PEPPERBOX
The happiness that stems from yoga and meditation. looked like second nature to them. I felt uncomfortable immediately, but I soon realized that I was in a place that was judgement free. Someone smiled politely and assisted me in learning the warrior 1 pose. The pose is one of the simplest in the eyes of a yogi and it’s basically a lunge with your arms up. I barely have the balance for it when all of a sudden the woman tells me to hold it for a minute! “Breathe in, five, four, three, two, one. Now breathe out softly,” she told me as I gave a big breath out and crash to the floor. Once I got home, I reflected on the humiliation that took place. People do this stuff for hours at a time? I have the pleasure of eating salad, strawberry slices, cucumber, sunflower seeds and goat cheese. Not an ounce of meat is allowed on my plate and I wished that one little piece would magically appear on my plate. After the small proportion, I meditate again before bed, asking myself: “What’s one thing I did today to make the world, a friend,
or a stranger’s life better?” Well, someone on this planet was able to eat what I didn’t so cudo… (Belly growls at me). The life of an athlete just doesn’t meet the dietary standards of an extreme yogi. The question renders me silent and tired. Or perhaps, it was all the calories that I didn’t eat that made me gloomy. I will have to answer this tomorrow. By the end of the week, I was able to overcome the hunger even though I probably lost ten pounds! I became more confident in myself as an athlete and I was able to step back and see the beautiful things this world has to offer. The life of a yogi is no laughing matter, it takes discipline, focus and clarity to really see what means the most to you and to follow through with it. This experience allowed me to really see if I truly felt positive about what I do. In short, I’m glad I get to eat again and I’m glad that I have a higher level of confidence... and that I can finally touch my toes.
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Experiential
“That water ain’t right!” Kaelyn Tuermer-Lee Editor-in-Chief
“Y
ou know that drinking fountain outside my classroom?” Mr. Vollmers asked, “That water ain’t right.” Agreed. I make it a point to never use school drinking fountains, ever since I went to take a sip in sixth grade, only to find that the water was a yellowish-brown. Gross. My fear of drinking fountains was only further solidified after the bacterial cultures lab my freshman year, in which the swab of the inside of the drinking fountain head was teeming with bacteria and mold. Interestingly enough, there was now one other person that confirmed my suspicions of drinking fountains. I decided to take the hypothesis one step further, wanting to test the drinking fountain for lead. Many older pipes were constructed with lead, and have not been replaced, so I wanted to see if this was the case. I approached Mr. Peters, who agreed to let me use his very scientific lab coat and safety goggles. I walked over to the drinking fountain outside of room 301, all ready to go as I made a mental checklist. Pipette? Check. Test tube? Check. Lead strip test? Check. Everything was accounted for….that is, except for the water. I pressed on the knob of the drinking fountain, only to find that no water came out. Well that wasn’t right, I thought. Maybe I pressed it wrong. But then again, how many ways are there to press a button at a drinking fountain? I tried again, harder this time, hoping that if I applied more pressure, water would come spouting out. Although this may work for a TV remote, I realized that this
was not going to work. Puzzled, I stepped back from the drinking fountain. Then it hit me: they must have known that I was going to test the water! What could they be hiding? And who are they? I collected my testing materials and made my way upstairs to the drinking fountain outside of room 404, the one that was tested my freshman year in biology. I shivered as I recalled the many bacterial cultures on the agar plate from the inside of the drinking fountain head. I gently twisted the knob to make sure that it would work, and sure enough, it did. But I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. I took out the test tube once again, steadying a pipette to collect the water sample. I then added the lead test strip to the test tube and waited a long ten minutes. Classroom doors seemed to open every two minutes, with students finding any excuse to get out of class. Each and every one of them walked by and gave me a strange look. Maybe it was because of the lab coat that went past my knees, or maybe it was the oversized safety goggles. I realized that I probably looked ridiculous. After a long ten minutes of pacing the hallway, my timer went off, indicating that the test was done. I looked at the lead strip, relieved to find out that the results were negative. But that still didn’t explain the “weird” taste that Mr. Vollmers claimed the water had. After talking to biology teacher Ms. Condit, she explained to me that the pipes were cleaned of mold and bacteria by using chlorine. I shudder, imagining people drink chlorinated water, like from a swimming pool. I immediately ran back to Mr. Peters’ classroom to inquire about
Thursday, April 7th, 2016
Emelia BensonMeyer/PEPPERBOX
I begin testing the water at the drinking fountain outside of room 404 since the previous one I had tried had the water shut off.
Emelia BensonMeyer/PEPPERBOX
Turns out, to my relief, that the water was lead free! Yay! further testing. He gave me a chlorine test, which I tested with water from the hydration station this time. The water turned the faintest of pink after adding the chemicals, but was under 5 ppm [parts per million], so the amount of chlorine was not significant. So after running around campus in the oversized lab coat like a mad scientist for a day, I began to
think that further testing should be conducted. It was also very suspicious to me that the drinking fountain outside of Mr. Vollmers’ classroom was shut off. Was there something wrong with it? Maybe that water really “ain’t right”. But I’ll leave others to conclude what they may, after tasting the water for themselves--something I still can not bring myself to do.
Thursday, April 7th, 2016
Experiential
The Pepperbox | Page 27
Middle school invasion them were late. It was shocking. They started with a warm up, Grace Walker “What happens when you drop Art Director a pebble or a rock in a pond?” & They spent about 15 minutes on this. Honestly. To pass the time Nora Lovell Nora and I made up our own Feature Editor science warm-ups in the back. If the pebble’s mass is 0.05 kg ome people’s idea of a ter- and it falls from 4 meters, on rible experience is that Earth, what is its potential entime they had the flu or ergy? (Hint: Ug = mgh) Well, we that miserable horror solved that in 20 seconds and movie marathon your friend proceeded to make up a couple suggested where you couldn’t more physics problems while sleep for a week after. Mine, the gremlins, I mean sixth gradand I know a few others, is middle school. So of course the masochistic side of myself thought that revisiting my alma mater, Sunny Brae Middle School, would be a hilarious and not at all traumatizing experience, perfect for the experience issue. So, I dragged along my backup, Nora Lovell, because the idea of being stuck alone in a conversation with an old teacher made me feel like I was going to be sick, and headed off. Our contact was the lovely Ms. Pennisi, who some of you may know as Coriell’s sister. She met us in the office as we were signing in and grabbing our visitor passes and proceeded to lead us to her classroom, where I immediately flashed back to ers, finished up the quick-write. They spent the next 30 min8th grade english where we destroyed the other classes in our utes talking about earthquakes so I took the time to really scope grade-wide game of Scrabble. The bell rang, signaling the things out. Do some real, proend of lunch and the 6th grad- fessional, observing. They were ers quickly shuffled in for their all minature, even smaller than natural sciences class. None of the freshmen, who I view as be-
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Jesus, the kid was talking about Jesus. The guy in the middle. I lost it. Nora had to punch me in the arm so I could stop laughing.
ing pocket-sized. They liked to raise their hands, they didn’t just wait to be picked like it was the Hunger Games and you were going to be forced to kill the rest of your classmates. They were genuinely excited to answer questions. I can’t even remember what that feels like. They were all fresh-faced and ready to go. It made me feel like a bitter old man. “Up, Down, Up, Down,” can still be heard by Beckstead (or DJ or even Doug Jr. as us Sunny Brae kids mercilessly called him), our old PE teacher. We’re all the way across the school and his yelling is just as loud as ever. Later, through the window, I see them running laps and playing kickball. I used sophomore PE as a study period. The period ends and the Italian class comes in next, they start off with the word of the day, “arrivederci,” a word they spent 5 minutes trying to guess what it meant. I wanted to poke my eyes out. Next they were presenting their projects, each had an Italian city to present to
the class. The first kid got up to present their city, Vinci, where Leonardo da Vinci was born (who could have guessed). That was their main fact, basically the whole presentation. On one slide of the powerpoint was Da Vinci’s famous painting, the Last Supper. “Uh yeah, this is one of his paintings, I think the guy in the middle is supposed to be important but I don’t know.” Jesus, the kid was talking about Jesus. The guy in the middle. I lost it. Nora had to punch me in the arm so I could stop laughing. By the end of that period Nora and I were just done. We couldn’t take any more. Seeing all these kids in our old classroom was too weird and bringing back too many uncomfortable memories. We thanked Pennisi and got the hell out of dodge. If I don’t get anything else out of this experience I am at least am 100% assured that I’m happy to be moving forward with my life and I really don’t want to be a kid again. Sixth grade me must have been an idiot.
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Experiential
Finding my religion
Thursday, April 7th, 2016
Althea Newman
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Photo Editor
am not religious and I do not go to church, but I do believe in God. The God I believe in is faceless, formless, genderless, colorless, and cultureless. In my eyes, this God (or Goddess) is more like a divine spirit. Religion does really interest me. It brings culture, customs, language, ideals, morals, and flavor to the world. Without religion, I believe we as people of the earth would be much more similar. We would be bland and boring, not exciting and different. As much as people say that religion is bad and that all it does is start conflict. I truly believe religion has a great power to bring people together and it is what people make of it. I think it can save people, help them hope, dream, and achieve a sense of fulfillment and goodness. So I have decided that I want to be religious. But which one do you choose? How do you commit? There are many many religious denominations to choose from. From
Religion has a great power to bring people together and it is what people make of it.
Photo courtesy of Flickr
All religions coexisting peacefully. Christianity and Catholicism of race gender and sexuality. to Jainism and Paganism. There is a Unitarian UniversalUnitarian Universalism is an ist church in Humboldt County. all inclusive religion that is The Humboldt Unitarian Unicharacterised by a “free and re- versalist Fellowship is located sponsible search for truth and in Bayside, Arcata. The first meaning they value intellectual service I attended surprised freedom and inclusive love for me. A lot of churches strike all and they gathering inspira- me as kind of dark and gloomy. tion and beliefs from all world This one was not, it was a large religions.� All Unitarian Univer- bright almost circular room salists share the same quest for with windows on almost all of spiritual growth. Unitarian Uni- the sides. I thought it was reversalists branched off and left ally cool to see all the different Christianity in 1961, when they types of people in attendance a story of Middle Eastern roots established their own religion. lot of older people and a lot of on the different ways to pray. I They believe that though Jesus young children, some hippies thought it was really interesting was a great prophet and a great and some other more straight to see how many new people teacher, he was not God. Uni- laced people; everyone seemed came to the church each Sunversalism states that religion is to be enjoying themselves. The day. People who had never been a universal human quality. It is Minister at the Humboldt Uni- before and others that have a set of beliefs concerning the tarian Universalist fellowship is only been a few times. What is cause, nature, and purpose of Reverend Brian Jessep. As soon so attractive about this church the universe it can include de- as my family and I entered the is that it is a positive environvotional and ritual observanc- church (I dragged them along), ment to get to learn a lot about es and often contains a moral he greeted us and was super world religions and experience code. Unitarian universalist friendly and helpful. During the pieces of all of them instead of believe that the living truth is service, many people spoke: the only reading directly from the seen as more far reaching than Reverend started the service Bible or another religious text. I national cultural and religious and there was a lot of singing. will definitely be back. Church boundaries. Unitarian Univer- One woman spoke about her is every Sunday at 9 or at 11 salists are arguably the most personal life experiences and and you can visit their website inclusive of any religion as they how she was helped by Jesus. http://www.huuf.org/ for more accept all people on the quest My favorite part of the service information about what the upfor spiritual growth regardless was when the Reverend told a coming service will talk about.
It is a positive environment to get to learn a lot about world religions and experience pieces of all of them.
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My Story
Thursday, April 7th, 2016
He who lives beyond the living Jake Verhaegh
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Sports Editor
verything changed the day my father died. A slow death. A painful death that began from cancer five years before his passing on August 2, 2015 at the age of 58. And I was there through all of it. A terrible feeling watching your father die little by little as days pass into months into years without improvement. And the reflection of the pain within my father, Charles Verhaegh - better known as Chuck Verhaegh, was mirrored in me - growing little by little as days pass into months into years. Innocence. I did not know what death was back then. I knew my father though. Chuck was a tall, bald man - bald from leukemia radiation, leukemia radiation from when he was in college which turned into breast cancer in his fifties, breast cancer that ultimately killed him in a slow, prolonged death. Chuck was a humourous human, a creative cook, and the glue to hold the family together in happiness. He always supported me in whatever I did, and supported my family in whatever ways he could. He supported me in ways that soon became impossible when he became too weak to move. Too weak to do anything but lie there, mouth open, eyes staring blankly up to the stars. He loved me. And I loved him. To lose him was to lose a part of me. And a part of me wished that I could give more to him. I was not angry. I did not blame anyone. I only wished I could have made my life mean just a little bit more to him. To play that one more soccer game on the lawn. To canoe one more time in his company. To feel the freedom in the forest below the canopy of green with his presence rooted beside me. But that thought soon passed from reality to dream
as I see him stare - motionless, in bed - just days before his passing. The what ifs? The if only things were different. But things are not different - and that is a fact I have to live with. The harsh reality that I will never again see his bald head; or hear his humorous personality; or taste the greatness of his cooking. But I am thankful for the time we shared together. For the stories. For the memories.
My father was an amazing chef, and although his life was shorter than most, his days were as sweet as his cooking. - Ruth Verhaegh A slow death, while terrible, made carrying it easier. We knew he was going to die. It is a sickening thought knowing his life was ending soon. A weight upon my shoulder that grew heavier with each day; a weight upon our family as we became close in our crisis. How soon? How much time is left? It is the unknown that is painful, and yet Chuck faced the greatest unknown of them all. I see him still upon the bed, my mother’s fingers in his hand. Him speaking words that hold no meaning to us, but meaning in him. Talking to his mother, my grandma - still alive, but dying inside; his parents still alive here to watch him die. A few days ago he was moving, talking, eating, drugged to stop the pain - but alive. Now he is as good as dead. I can almost feel the presence around me; the presence of the people he is talking to. I can see calmness in his pitiless eyes, I trace bravery on the ribs that show upon his starved body, I
sigh in sadness with my family as life sighs out of him. Chuck had a hard life - with leukemia and then breast cancer from the leukemia radiation - but Chuck was strong, he was brave, and the bravest thing of all was for him to let go of us and for us to let go of him. He held on to us because we held on to him. He held on to the what ifs? To the if only things were different. At the end he was delirious, but at the end he was most sane as he learned to move on. To no longer walk in the forest, but to release the canopy of green so he may be free to walk among the stars. To walk along the trail of time, as I will always be in his heart, and his heart will be in mine. I am not angry. I do not wish my life were different, because this experience makes me - me. It is a part of me, as I a part of it. I am not afraid of death. I am much more afraid of life than I am of death - because I know I will see my father again one day, one day beyond the veil of the living. A hundred people went to his funeral. We appreciated the life he lived - the life he gave to oth-
ers. The pain Chuck suffered occurred when he was alive. Death is peaceful, it gave him his release from pain and suffering - and, in turn - it gave the release of pain in me as I knew he was truly free, I knew this was reality, him relieved from his body that restrained him in life. It was a hard experience to live through, but to live through it helped our family bond together: to grow strong together. Did it hurt? Of course it hurt; life hurts, for how would we grow stronger otherwise? That weight upon my shoulders made me tougher and changed me into the being I am today. It was hard to let go. “I got to go, I got to go,” Chuck kept on saying, getting out of his bed, being forced back in again. Only when mother left the house, only when we weren’t beside him, only when the morning dawned - did it dawn on him the ability leave the world the right way. He loves me. And I love him. And we - family and friends - will love him for forever and beyond, for forever and beyond as he loves us beyond the veil of the living.
Jake Verhaegh/PEPPERBOX
Charles Verhaegh enjoying the city of Hanoi in Vietnam.
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Opinion
Thursday, April 7th, 2016
The life of the sleepless you like to take my place? Just in case you were actually fancying the idea of being an overwhelmed high school junior for a day, let me outline a day in my life from a year ago.
Hannah Finley Managing Editor
I
first began to consider becoming addicted to caffeine during my junior year. The deadly combination of being an independent, college-driven student, yet also a self-proclaimed procrastinator began to take a serious toll. As AP homework assignments piled up, two hour softball practices loomed after school, school newspaper duties arose, and a class office meeting awaited me just around the corner, my decision to shoot for the perfect college application started to seem like a mistake. Was all of this worth jeopardizing my sleep schedule? At first, I had ambitiously considered doing a sleep deprivation experiment to record my slow descent into the zombie-like state that has become all too familiar to so many high school students, but I’ve just come to love sleep too much for that. So instead, I will recount and simplify my high school experiences. Now, I’m sure many adults, specifically parents, will begin to argue that my problem lies in an inability to manage time well, to which I respond, would
schedule would permit me to leave campus. As 12:25 rolled around, I would either scramble to a lunch destination, attend a club meeting, take notes at a junior class meeting, work on homework, or sleep in a friend’s car. After lunch, I would rush to I had ambitiously my fifth period class in order to considered doing work on homework or create a priority oriented list of things a sleep deprivato accomplish after school that tion experiment day. As it became apparent that I would have homework in alto record my slow most every class by the time the descent into the school day was over, I would zombie-like state start to plan the amount of time I would dedicate to each task. that has become Once school ended, I would all too familiar rush to the locker room to change and help set up the softto so many high ball field. By the time the pracschool students. tice came to a close and all the equipment had been put away, I would arrive home around A lucky day began with roll- 6:00. FINALLY, I would take ing out of bed at 7:30 to shower five minutes to just sit down and walk to school, but not all and mentally gather myself. days were that fortunate. FreAfter taking a moment to just quently I would wake up at breathe, my growing hunger 5:00 or 6:00 a.m. to squeeze in would slowly creep up on me, some extra studying or finish up becoming more and more apa homework assignment. Once parent, until it finally pounced at school, I would fight the urge and I was forced to cook dinner. to fall asleep in my first period By this time, the hunger would class, listening to the lecturing of be too real to consider taking a teacher while I scribbled some the time to cook an elaborate illegible notes down. I would meal. It would so frequently continue through my day at come down to a quesadilla, mac this sloth speed until I reached n’ cheese, or breakfast for dinbreak, when I would have to ner. By the time that I had takdecide whether or not to buy en a moment to sit down, cook, a student store burrito in the eat, and tidy up my kitchen, it event that I would have to stay would be at least 7 o’clock. Now on campus during lunch that I was faced with three options: day. I pushed through the mid- engage in some hobby-related day stretch, longing for lunch, activity and express myself cremaintaining the hope that my atively, shower away the linger-
ing sweat and dirt, or start my night’s homework. As my night continued, with hours of homework and studying looming overhead, it would be at least 11 before I crawled beneath my covers. As I laid in bed, my thoughts would circulate relentlessly: dread for school, weekend plans, weekly lunch plans, Instagram, family, sports, boyfriends, unfinished homework, college stress, ACT signups, SAT studying, unimportant tasks, things to remember, to-do list, desire to sleep (did I set an alarm?). The list continued to loop on repeat until I would finally put on a movie or mellow music with the hope to fall asleep before 1 o’clock, shooting for a minimum of 5 hours of sleep. If this routine still seems tempting, let's hear from the other students who find time to balance a highly rounded schedule. Arcata High Junior, Greta Bishop, is more than qualified to receive this recognition, empathy, and-- to some degree-pity. Bishop starts her day off with a 5:30 alarm in order to eat, get ready, and arrive at zero period orchestra on time. Once at school, she trudges through her seven period day, filtering through four periods of advanced classes. As if her orchestral involvement and academic workload was not impressive enough, she achieves a well rounded lifestyle with sports, clubs, and student governement. Currently, Greta is a highly involved member of the Ineract club. In fact, she plans to seek a position in office next year.
Thursday, April 7th, 2016
students In addition to that involvment, she is also the junior class treasurer. With this heavily packed schedule, Bishop admits, “ I don’t get to make it off campus for lunch at least two or three times a week.” As if giving up lunches wasn’t enough dedication, Bishop sacrafices two hours everyday after school for varisity volleyball, varsity track, or AAU volleyball. After a long day of early morning orchestra, a rigorous class schedule, and high intensity sports practices, Bishop finally makes it back home, where she strives to make it to bed by 10:30 (impressive!), but that’s only when she doesn’t complete her homework. Any given night can be spent doing homework into the wee hours of the morning. So let’s give Greta a pat on the back, wish her luck for the remainder of her junior year, and hear the perspective of another dedicated, Berkeleybound senior, Hannah Lopez. Lopez, having made it through her intense Junior year-- complete with four advaced classes, orchestra, two jobs, two sports, and club involvment--is still staying strong for her senior year. Aside from her perseverance, Lopez admits that her priorities have changed from Junior to Senior year. “Last year I was really driven to get good grades, but this year I’ve focused on trying to really learn and understand the material,” Lopez Claimed. When striving to create an impressive college application it becomes increasingly difficult to
Opinion
maintain focus on what should truly be the motiational factors. Losing sight of the importance of thoroughly learning and understanding material, rather than just studying to commit to short term memory for tests, is a frighteningly easy transition. So what does drive the students who consciously choose to drown in their own overflowing planners? For many, but not necessarily all, the answer lies in the struggle to achieve the most impressive college application possible. Obviously, it helps if you choose to engage in activities that you enjoy being overwhelmed with, but with increasing competition among college-bound students, ,that is not always enough.
Last year I was really driven to get good grades, but this year I’ve focused on trying to really learn and understand the material
to chew on: UCLA received 119,000 applicants this year, and only accepted 6,400 freshman; UCSD received 103,000 applicants, and only accepted about 25,000freshman ; and Berkeley received 102,000 applicants, but accepted less than 20,500 students. Every University of California saw between a five and fifteen percent increase in their number of applicants in just one year With the ridiculous competetion at the collegiate level, it seems as though it is becoming increasingly difficult for students to maintain a positive outlook on college acceptance. Is an unnecessarily busy schedule worth the impressive college application that it yields? More so, is a packed planner worth losing sleep and
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stressing until your hair begins to fall out? Bishop and Lopez both agree that the lack of sleep that accompanies a tough schedule has noticably negative effects on health and attitide. “I was able to perform well enough, but it definitely affected my heatlh. I got sick all the time.,” Lopez admitted. The stress and constant pressure to perform up to the highest of standards can be unheatlhy at times, but I suppose that the sheer joy sealed in an acceptance letter makes it all worth it. After putting myself through eight advanced placement and honors courses, vaious extracurriculars, and countless sleepless nights, I can recommend only pursuing what genuinely interests you, rather than hollow titles to embellish resumes.
- Hannah Lopez As freshman applicant standards rise to new heights, accompanied by a significant increase in the size of the pool of freshman applicants, more and more impressive students have to receive painful letters of rejection. To put this increase in cometition into perspective, here are some statistics for you
Hannah Finley/PEPPERBOX
Arcata High senior Hannah Lopez in her hibernation after junior year.
Frameable. The Sources of Strength peer leadership suicide prevention workshop.
Seniors Cait Parker and Daisy Nutter after their first softball win of the year. The cast of Chicago after an amazing performance. Exchange student, Sophia Waern-Bugge learns to surf on her trip to Hawaii.
Senior Johanna Anderson shows off her Irish dance skills .
Claire Bareilles’s car after an elaborate April Fool’s prank.