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NO. 7 OCTOBER SUNY NEW PALTZ

a magazine by The Oracle

T HE T E L L E R TENACITY

FASHION

THE TELLER

FOOD

ADVENTURE

HOME

HEALTH & WELLNESS

LITERATURE & ART

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F RO M T H E E D I TO R

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Readers, I hope everyone has enjoyed their summer! Somehow we have found ourselves already beginning October. I feel as if I am just now settling in to my senior year at SUNY New Paltz (wow it really is crazy to say!) and getting through every day seems to be a small accomplishment in itself. From taking some of my hardest classes ever, working with The Teller, being involved in other organizations, and more, it has been nonstop since the end of August. The theme of our October issue being tenacity seems to be very fitting for where I have found myself in life lately. Tenacity, or the act of being tenacious, can be defined as being very determined, persistent, and held together. My own tenacity has held me through many different ups and down from the beginning of summer until now. I don’t doubt that being tenacious will be what keeps me going as well. It is hard to describe a specific situation where I can express my tenacity because it is something that flows through my everyday actions and affects the choices I make. The stress of life can sometimes be so overwhelming that I have no other option except pulling through the day to hold my own self together. Throughout this issue you can find our contributors’ own experiences of being tenacious. We have a wide variety of articles from a personal experience of leaving the Mormon Church, what it is like to travel alone, how to define home for yourself and more. Throughout our Literature & Art section you can find a handful of different poems, short stories and art that touch on tenacity in their own ways. Over the summer The Teller has grown in many different ways that we are very excited to announce. First and foremost, you can now read all articles on our very own website, thetellermagazine.com. You can also go here for updates, to subscribe to our email list, and if you need to contact us. We encourage readers to share articles on our site. However, we are even more excited to announce that you can now find The Teller in print! You can find a copy of the magazine to browse in locations on campus like the Sojourner Truth Library, the Student Union Building and more. You can also find a copy at the Elting Memorial Library and Inquiring Minds Bookstore in New Paltz. These copies are to browse while you are at the location. However, if you would like a copy of your own for issues in the future, we have an order form upon request. Please do not hesitate to reach out to us. We strongly encourage our readers to enjoy The Teller in print version. With all of these exciting areas of growth all that’s left to say is I hope you enjoy the seventh issue of The Teller, our Tenacity issue. Enjoy October Cloey Callahan Founder / Editor in Chief cloeycallahan.com

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W HO WE A RE

Name: Jessica Barr Year: Senior Major: Journalism Contribution: Fashion Email: barrj2@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu What makes you tenious?: I think my ability to choose my battles wisely is what makes me tenacious. For a long time I focused on separating what can and can’t be controlled, and what has a greater influence on my life; doing so I’ve learned to let little things go in order to stay focused, grateful and caring for those around me.

Name: Lauren Mulvey Year: Sophomore Major: Digital Media Production Contribution: Fashion Email: mulveyl2@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu What makes you tenious?: What makes me tenacious is my ability to see past the issues that I’m facing and find strength in them instead. No matter how difficult a time I might be going through, or how much work I have, I have been able to see the temporary nature of the obstacles which I confront each day. I always stand my own ground, and no matter how lost I might get when coming into new environments, I always find my way back to my true self.

Name: Caleb Wootan Year: Senior Major: International Relations Contribution: Adventure Email: wootanc1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu What makes you tenious?: Am I tenacious? I don’t know. What I do know is that the people who I’ve been lucky enough to know have always been tenacious on my behalf when I didn’t have the strength to.

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Food: Morgan Hughes, hughesm9@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Taylor Dowd, dowdt2@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Amy Tompkins, tompkina2@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Sophia Tawil, tawils1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Gabriella Rivera, riverag6@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu

Name: Emily Trama Year: Junior Major: Early Childhood & Childhood Education, Art History Concentration, Psych Minor Contribution: Health & Wellness Email: tramae1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu What makes you tenious?: I have a pretty firm grasp of who I am now and who I am supposed to be. It’s a long journey to find your purpose, but I think I am strong and persistent enough to get to that place and I think it’s because of my tenacity in life.

Name: Marissa Ammon Year: Sophomore Major: Adolescent Education and English Contribution: Art and Literature Email: ammonm1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu What makes you tenious?: Setting goals each day and making sure I accomplish what I need to get done, and what I want to do!

Contributors

Fashion: Lauren Mulvey, mulveyl2@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Shania Gordon, gordons9@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Mia Paquin, paquinrm1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Jessica Barr, barrj2@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Lindsay Kranitz, kranitzl1@hawkmail.newpatz.edu Gillian Hamilton, hamiltog1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu

Adventure: Rachel Muller, mullerr3@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Nicole Gatto, gatton1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Caleb Wootan, wootanc1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Nicole Wasylak, wasylakn1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Ali Dempsey, dempseya1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Abby Foster, fostera2@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Sophie Herrmann, herrmans2@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Annemarie Durkin durkina1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Home: Shyana Fisher, fishers6@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Kelsey Fredricks, fredrick1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Caroline Goulet, gouletc1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Bethelihem Gebresilasie, gebresib1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Erin Freeman, freemane3@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Tina Staniscia, stanisct1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Health & Wellness: Danielle Dorion, doriond1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Starr Ramos, ramoss5@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Emily Trama, tramae1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Poetry: Emily Fego, fegoe1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Skylar Coons, coonss1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Nicole Wasylak, wasylakn@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Samantha Hughes, hughess8@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Samantha Karlosky, karlosks1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Mia Paquin, paquinrm1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Michelle Nedboy, nedboym1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Pamela Loperena, loperenp1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Diana Testa, testad2@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Katherine Boyle, boylek3@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Katherine Goldblatt, goldblak1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Short Stories: Marissa Ammon ammonm1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Michelle Nedboy nedboym1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Art: Olivia Rodriguez, rodriguo6@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Alice Rojas, rojasa8@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Sophie Herrmann, herrmans2@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Photography: Sophia Tawil, tawils1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Olivia Rodriguez, rodriguo6@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Colin Battersby battersc1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu George Catechis, catechig2@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Justin Rampert, rampertj1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Laura Thompson thompsol6@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Marisa Lucchese lucchesm1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Reviews: Julia Catalanello catalanj2@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Playlists: Gabrielle Vultaggio vultaggg1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Morgan Hughes hughesm9@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Katherine Goldblatt goldblak1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Horoscopes: Emma Gibbons, gibbonse1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Claire Hazard, hazardc1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu

Name: Rebecca Angelou Year: Sophomore Major: Graphic Design Contribution: Design & Layout Email: angelour1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu What makes you tenious?: I try to always look at the bigger picture, ‘cause I always get caught up on the small things. But once I see the road ahead, I make sure I get there!

Design Team: Julia Catalanello, catalanj2@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Olivia Heins, heinso1@hawkmail.newpaltzedu Christian Torgersen, torgersc1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Kirstin Phillips, phillipk6@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Emma Misiaszek, misiasze1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Lindsay Kranitz, kranitzl1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Lauren Gay, gayl1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Rebecca Angelou, angelour1@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Website Managers: Caroline Rowley, rowleyc2@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Amy Thompson, tompkina2@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu Cover Art: Kirstin Phillips, phillipk6@hawkmail.newpaltz.edu

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C O N T FASHION

FOOD

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ADVENTURE

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P. 008 History of the Penny Loafer

P. 022 Farmer’s Almanac

P. 030 A Home in the Trees

P. 010 On-Campus Fashion

P. 024 Profile of Female Chef

P. 034 Apple Orchard Day Trip

P. 014 London Fashion Week

P. 026 Fall Food Staples

P. 036 Traveling Solo Around Europe

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E N T S HOME

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HEALTH & WELLNESS

LITERATURE & ART

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P. 040 Using Vintage Decor Today

P. 050 Adjusting Healthily to College

P. 044 Where Do You Call Home?

P. 052 Reclaiming Your Thoughts

P. 046 Being the Parent of a College Student

P. 054 Weekly Workout Routine

Poetry

Short Stories Photography and Art Playlists Reviews Horoscopes

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FASHION | FOOD | ADVENTURE | HOME | HEALTH & WELLNESS | LITERATURE THE TELLER

History of Fashion: The Penny Loafer By Jessica Barr

Penny Loafers, uncomfortable as they ordinarily may be, have had and will always have a special place in my heart. Autumn is the season for loafers and bulky sweaters paired with chiffon shorts. It wasn’t until my freshman year of college that I fell in love with loafers as the fall staple, and yet here I am wearing the same two pairs I purchased pre-Trump era. Like everything in life, the penny loafer has evolved to meet the needs of the modern individual; with a shoe originally crafted for comfort (ironic, I know), how much farther can we really go? So when, where and how did the shoes begin their journey to what they are now–my favorite white patent leather pair with a studded vamp?

Our beloved loafers first came to life in the late 1930s, not only modeled after the shoes worn by Norweigan fishermen, but inspired by their name as well. G.H Bass was the foremost creator of the new shoe, The Weejun. Loafers, made for comfort and durability, were essentially leather moccasins at their start in the pre-sneaker era. From the 40s to the 60s, when counterculture shoes gained popularity, penny loafers found their niche on college campuses with “preppy” style.

The name “penny loafer” came from what research has proven to be a whopping compilation of rumors. Some say girls would keep a penny in the vamp when going on first dates in order to afford a rescue payphone call. Being that we aren’t sure if phone calls ever cost just a penny, the theory seems fabricated. Despite the countless rumors that come with wondering why it was in fashion to stick a penny in the shaft of the vamp, we know someway, somehow, there is truth behind the trend that coined the name of the penny loafer.

After infiltrating the Ivy Leagues, the loafer went high fashion in 1953 when Gucci brought his Italian style to New York. Coming stateside beforehand, Aldo Gucci took inspiration from the Weejun and went back to Italy with plans to recreate the design. After sketching the first ever high fashion loafer, Gucci replaced the penny bit with a horsebit and changed their classic color from brown to black. Thus, we have the beginning of the penny loafer as a wardrobe staple.

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By Lauren Mulvey

You know those moments when you see someone standing to your right in Starbucks, or out on Parker Quad, or sitting next to you in the library, and they just have the best outfit you’ve seen all day, week or month? And you just wonder... how did they get inspired? Well, you don’t have to wonder any longer about what crossed their mind that morning, or where they got their groovy jacket or pants from. Here are some great styles from the academic strip, Element 93, and all the nooks and crannies of campus. Let’s meet some stylin’ students:

Kristina

This is Kristina. You may have seen her around campus rocking street style fits with feminine undertones. Dressing herself with seventies-era Italian film stars in mind, she loves merging sleek Italian fashion with the edgy the rougher tones of New York street style. Check out the fun blend of colors and textures in her outfit on the academic strip (pictured).

Where does she shop? Thrift Stores

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Emily

FASHION | FOOD | ADVENTURE | HOME | HEALTH & WELLNESS | LITERATURE

On-Campus Fashion: Style on the Quad

Meet Emily! Spotted in Element 93, Emily can usually be found wearing amazingly crafted, simplistic outfits. Emily attributes her niche for style to her NYC high school’s lack of dress code, and her peers from different urban backgrounds. Alongside this, she finds herself inspired by fashion found a click away on her Instagram explore page, as well as shows such as “Euphoria,” “Skins” and “Glee.”

Where does she shop? Thrift Stores, Urban Outfitters and Brandy Melville

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Jalina

Here is Jalina. Mixing casual and formal pieces, she creates cohesive outfits out of unlikely pairings. She dips her toes into both feminine and masculine aesthetics to create truly unique and elegant looks. Drawing inspiration from media, she often imitates looks found on Instagram, altering them to perfection with her eye for distinctive combos.

Where does she shop? Thrift Stores and Depop

Sohpie and Eva

Meet Sophie and Eva. The pair can be found sporting cute combinations of girly and grunge pieces as they walk to and from class. Sophie, seen here wearing a gorgeous red floral dress, is most often inspired by her housemates, grandma-style clothing and layered combinations. Eva is inspired by earthy tones and warm colors, but most importantly loves to be comfortable, often opting for tees and sweaters. Both draw inspiration from the people in their lives– and Pinterest.

Where do they shop? Thrift Stores, L Train Vintage and Depop

Mo and Xano

These stylish students are Mo and Xano. They can be spotted from across campus with their amazing daily looks. A powerful pair, both find their own sense of individuality a source of inspiration in their fashion choices. They are influenced by friends, as well as public icons such as Rihanna, Beyonce, Drake and A$AP Rocky.

Where do they shop? Thrift Stores, Topman and Curiosity Brand

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Randy

Introducing Randy. You may have seen him clad in some pretty cool pieces around campus. He listens to many different playlists and he carefully picks clothes to create a physical interpretation of the sounds (inspired by beats and lyrics). With different playlists for varying genres like classic rock, he pulls off a killer new look everyday.

Where does he shop? Thrift Stores, Zara, Urban Outfitters, Levi’s and Madewell

Chris

This is Chris. You can catch him around campus on a skateboard or sitting in Peregrine with friends. Chris finds himself drawn to baggy clothes and grungier, vintage styles. Figures like Tyler the Creator are idols of his that he emulates. He often finds himself wearing sneakers or sandals, paired with baggy pants at ankle height and a tee shirt or sweater.

Where does he shop? Depop and thrift stores

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Simon

Have you met Simon? You’ve probably seen him skateboarding by in some cool sweaters and grunge looks. His inspiration changes daily, and here he is inspired by WWI soldiers. What he wears day to day depends on his mood and the weather. Admirer of older actors, Simon loves classic figures like Paul Newman and Steve McQueen and how they presented themselves. His go-to look is also classic, black pants and a classic white tee.

Where does he shop? Thrift Stores and friend’s closets

Andrew

Say hello to Andrew! Pictured just near Parker Quad, Andrew is not hard to spot. He can be seen strutting around campus in the coolest colors and patterns you’ve ever seen. Andrew feels inspired by bright colors and likes the idea of standing out. He tends to pick things that pair well together to create a complete outfit. Drawing inspiration from cartoons as well, he often dresses like cartoon villains because of their “fun style.”

Where does he shop? Amazon and H&M

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People who attended the show:

FASHION | FOOD | ADVENTURE | HOME | HEALTH & WELLNESS | LITERATURE

London Fashion Week (9/15/2019) By Gillian Hamilton

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Photos from the “self-portrait” line

Photos from the “House of Holland” Line


FASHION | FOOD | ADVENTURE | HOME | HEALTH & WELLNESS | LITERATURE THE TELLER

The Industrial Dr. Marten Revolution: Why You Should Feel Empowered When Wearing Dr. Martens

“The only thing tougher than a Dr. Marten boot is the person wearing it.” This quote can be found on the Dr. Marten website when reading about some of the incredible people who have worn Dr. Martens in the past. After reading that quote, how can you not feel powerful when wearing Dr. Martens? There are many stories about how Dr. Martens have changed people's lives. One of these stories is about Pete Townshend who was the founder and lead guitarist of The Who. He is a legend. There was a moment in rock history that changed the game for him and the brand Dr. Martens. In the 1960’s, peace and love was the cornerstone of society. Violence was frowned upon in this decade. During one particular iconic moment in musical history, through Townshend's frustration with his performances and his anger towards the political climate of the 1960’s, he smashed his guitar and bounced around on stage. This became a regular occurrence for him.

By Lindsay Kranitz

He soon realized his feet did not feel so great. This is when Dr. Marten boots comes to his rescue. He bought a pair of the 1460 boot in 1967 and it changed his life forever because of the comfort and structure they gave him. This boot also became a comfort factor to him mentally. I wonder if Dr. Maerten, the founder of the brand in the 1920’s, knew when he created these boots for comfort that they would later continue to be a fashion trend in 2019. Although everyday college students are not smashing guitars on stage, we are still becoming our own individuals in this world and fighting for what we believe in. Having a shoe that is comfortable, stylish, and sturdy can help motivate us to be ourselves and feel our best. Being yourself is a powerful position to be in.

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YOU ARE WHAT YOU WEAR By Mia Paquin

Everybody has heard the mantra “Look good, feel good,” but is there any truth behind this statement? As it turns out, a cute outfit actually has the ability to brighten your day. You don’t necessarily have to have on a fancy dress or button-down top–it’s more a matter of feeling proud of what you are wearing.

From a psychological standpoint, feeling confident in what you are wearing creates a loop of positive feedback. It causes others to perceive you as a competent and respectable individual. Additionally, the positive feedback on how you look enhances your self confidence (even though you should dress for yourself and not the rest of the world!)

It is notable that when we are sick, we tend to dress in baggy sweatpants and oversized sweatshirts. When this happens, we already feel under the weather in terms of our health and our outfit choice reinforces the idea that we are not at our best. Opposingly, we tend to dress well for important occasions such as job interviews and parties. During these times, we are excited and want to reestablish our good mood through our clothes.

Being dressed well also gains you more respect, as superficial as this may sound. When people see a person who is confident in what they are wearing, this person is automatically regarded with more respect. Basically, the way you carry yourself is the way others view you, and a great outfit is a perfect way to display your confidence! So, what’s the take away? I would say that since one of the first things you do in the morning is choose an outfit, you might as well make this simple action one that will enhance the rest of your day.

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10 Tïps åñd Trïçks før Thrïft Shøppïñg by Shania Gordon

Thrift shopping is a fun and convenient way to save money while exposing yourself to a variety of clothing, accessories and knick-knacks. Though the venture to find desired pieces is most favorable when ‘going with the flow’, advancing down this path rarely ends successfully. Brands sorted with other brands and styles displayed alongside their complete opposite, feeling overwhelmed is definitely common. These tips and tricks will have you coming out with cute new things and minimize the anxiety, while making thrifting a thrill rather than a hassle.

1.

HAVE A PLAN. No one really goes to a thrift

store knowing exactly what they want, but having an idea doesn’t hurt. That being said, a list is smart to have. Have an idea on styles or colors you want to experiment with. This will make thrifting easier and less overwhelming.

2.

DRESS WISELY. Often times there are a limited amount of changing rooms, so it is wise to dress lightly. Wear clothes and shoes that you can easily slip off and on. This won’t only benefit the person waiting in line, but it will also preserve time spent, allowing you to put back what you don’t like and replace it with more.

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Do wear: Tank tops, blouses, dresses, sweatpants, sweatshirts, flip flops, comfortable sneakers.

Do not wear: Tight clothes, layered clothes, excessive or bothersome jewelry.

3.

CARRY LITTLE THINGS. Due to you moving around a lot, you’re not going to want to be carry a huge backpack filled with unnecessary items. As you are dressing light, you should also carry light. Perhaps a crossbody, with your wallet, phone and must have items. You’re not going to have a place to rest valuable items and misplacing them is the last thing you’ll want happening on your venture.

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4.

BRING BAGS AND A CART. Now is the time. You’re entering the gates of alluring and mesmerizing items; don’t forget to grab a cart. This comes in handy even if you’re aiming to shop lightly, it is always rewarding when you’re not swatting your handbag to-and-fro while balancing your items. Having a temporary place to put your thrifted items will come in handy.

5.

GO DIRECTLY TO WHAT YOU WANT.

Now with your shopping cart in hand, you’ve finally entered a world of options. The most effective way to get things started is to go directly to what you want. Sucker for baggy things and graphics? Give the men’s section a visit. Start from the bottom and gradually working your way to the top.

6.

SCAN YOUR ITEM. When picking up an item, be sure to look out for stains or broken zippers. This will prevent you from buying something you most likely will never wear, or grant a reasonable discount when pointing out the flaw to the cashier!

Brïñg å Çårt !

7.

NEVER STICK TO ONE SECTION. Even if you’re more focused on baggy sweats and graphics, remember to wander around every section and scan throughout. You never know what will be hiding in between each rack. Most items are separated by colors, so to save time try starting at the colors you fancy.

8.

CHECK SIZES. This won’t apply for tops and sweatshirts (bagginess often being a preference) but is for jeans, skirts and dresses. Check it briefly when holding, if the item appears to be too small; see if it stretches. If something appears too big, see if it has loops for belts or if there is any possibility of alterations.

9.

DON’T OVERLOOK THE KIDS SECTION !

A majority are small in this section, but once in a while you’ll find items that will give a reasonable fit. Cartoon logos and items are usually in this section, which is great if you’re into Marvel, Minecraft, DC and other popular kid themes.

Døñ’t st ïçk tø øñë sëçt ïøñ

10.

THINK OUTSIDE OF THE BOX. Ugh, that shirt is WAY too big on you but you can’t resist because it’s your favorite color and you love the style. The perks of thrift shopping is price, making personalizing easy. What’s there to lose? Cut and stitch to your liking. Just because an item with desired features isn’t the right length or width now, doesn’t mean you can’t customize it.

Thïñk øütsïdë t hë bøx

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Hudson Valley’s agriculture is rich and ripe with possibilities for fresh delicious dishes. By shopping for produce as in season as possible, you can provide yourself with the best ingredients while reducing your carbon footprint.

New Paltz

Produce Calendar

By Gabriella Rivera

Produce Currently in Season: Apples, arugula, basil, beets, blackberries, blueberries, bok choy, brambles, broccoli, Brussels sprouts, cabbage, cantaloupe, carrots, cauliflower, celery, chard, chicories, chives, cilantro, collard greens, corn, cucumbers, eggplant, endive, grapes, green beans, green onions, kale, kohlrabi, lavender, leeks, lettuce, lima beans, mint, mushrooms, mustard greens, nectarines, okra, onions, oregano, parsley, peaches, pears, peas, peppers, plums, potatoes, pumpkin, radicchio, radishes, raspberries, rosemary, sage, snap peas, snow peas, spinach, sprouts, sweet potatoes, thyme, tomatoes, turnips, watermelon, zucchini. Planting Season: Garlic is a vegetable that can be planted in the early to late fall for a larger and early to late harvest in spring. Radishes are a 30 day vegetable if you start planting them now. Spinach is good to start in early September and grow until late Winter. Local Farms: Fishkill Farms 9 Fishkill Farm Road, Hopewell Junction, New York 12533 One of Hudson Valley’s oldest orchards with a commitment in growing their food in harmony with nature. Wallkill View Farm Market 15 Route 299 West, New Paltz, New York 12561 A family owned and operated farm growing fresh produce since 1960.

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FASHION | FOOD | ADVENTURE | HOME | HEALTH & WELLNESS | LITERATURE

Mushrooms are from Mars, Eggplants are from Venus By Amy Lynn Tompkins

The Hudson Valley has a thriving food industry that’s driven mostly by farm to table and vegan establishments that happen to be owned by women - like Agnes Devereux. But Devereux doesn’t call herself a chef. “Chef means leader in the kitchen and obviously I do lead my kitchen, [but] it's really kind of [a] strict, ego-driven male idea to be at the head of the kitchen, which is not the way I really function,” Devereux explained, “I try to be more like a teacher and collaborator with the people that I work with.” Literally translated from French, chef means “chief” and is part of a brigade-style kitchen system that is the core of culinary culture. This same culture is notoriously dominated by toxic masculinity and Devereux has opted out of its limitations. “So yeah, I'm a cook,” she said. “And a businesswoman and a mother and a wife and all of those things.” She further explained that, when people say “chef” they usually imagine someone who doesn’t leave the kitchen. And they’re probably picturing a man. A 2014 Bloomberg study found that only about seven percent of US restaurants employ women as head chefs. When Kaela Cochran, a student in her first year of study at The Culinary Institute of America (CIA), told her brother she would be attending culinary school, he made sure she knew the score. “My brother has a business down south,” she said. “I remember telling him [and] he's like, you know most chefs, and like the best chefs in the world, are male. You know that right?”

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This didn’t stop her from moving to New York from Florida at 29, enrolling as a freshman in cooking school. It took her a long time to do this. “It was like the most selfish decision I ever made because it was for no one else but me,” she said. “As women, I feel like we're often not allowed to make decisions for ourselves… We feel like in our gender roles we're supposed to accommodate others,” Cochran explained. “It's so ingrained in me to be like ‘No. Think about everything else before you think about yourself. Your happiness is secondary.’” She also isn’t ready to call herself a chef. “I feel like I won't be a chef until I finish school and I've actually done something worth talking about,” she said. “That means I've done something. Right now, I'm just cooking.” Echoing Devereux’s sentiment, her identity doesn’t exist only in the kitchen. She is much more than that. “I'm not limited to just being behind the stove,” she said. “There are so many more avenues to me that that food is to me so... I know that food will always be a part of my life. I don't know one-hundred percent if I will be a “chef” in the traditional sense of the word.” Some of her male classmates – 14 of 17 students in her fundamentals class last semester were male – have made comments about her grades or the quality of her food, suggesting favoritism because she’s female. She says, however, that the instructors haven’t treated her any differently.

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Shrimp Burgers with a Cilantro Mint Mayo and Cold Noodle Salad

Cornish Hen with a Champagne and Dijon Mustard Sauce

Paella

As an institution, Cochran explains, the CIA is very conscious about diversity and inclusivity. The student body there is over 50 percent female according to a 2018 article by National Public Radio (NPR). “There are men in the world that think women can't do things as well as they can. Legitimately, they believe that as a universal truth, that across the board, men can do things better than women,” Cochran said. “And I kind of encountered that in my class and I was just – I thought nothing of it [at the time].” In hindsight, she’s frustrated. “What freaky world are you living in that you are a better chef than me, that you are a better, or have better technique, that you care about food more than I do?” she said, “Your plates are dirty.”

the idea that any sort of good thing or goal that I achieve will be shadowed by the fact that I'm a woman…Why does that matter?” Do successful women make it easier for her to imagine her own success? “I don't think it necessarily makes it easier,” she said. “However, it does make me say, ‘Well, it's possible.’ It's possible. It can happen. If her, why not me? So, I think… female, male. Anybody. Just anybody coming from the CIA and actually making it is inspiring to me.” “Food,” she said, “is genderless.”

Mostly, Cochran is frustrated that whatever she does is going to be affected by her status as a woman. “I am competent as a human in my abilities, my cooking abilities and in my intelligence,” she said. “I hate

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Hudson Valley Feast: When One Door Closes, Open a BnB By Amy Lynn Tompkins

When Agnes Devereux closed The Village Tearoom, located in New Paltz, for the last time, she thought she was done owning a brick-and-mortar establishment. After 15 years, it was time for a break.

Thus, 1773 Dewitt House was conceptually born.

“All along, our plan was to stay for our kids to get educated in New Paltz, and then we would – we didn't want to be in the restaurant business forever. This is a full restaurant that was open for breakfast, lunch and dinner,” she said. “That was a lot.”

“It was being used by somebody as a summer vacation weekend house for the past 30 years and a fire ruined the electrical system of the house. It started in the basement and led to the electric up to circuit breaker and through all of those wires.

“Catering just became a big part of our business...and that's something that you can continue to do without a restaurant and obviously it's seasonal,” she explained. “So I decided to focus on that.”

“So it had to be completely rewired and that is still ongoing and we started in May. So every single line in the House has to be tested and do what's left to be done. It's a very long, slow process. And then because it didn't have heat during the winter, the pipes burst in the house. Now all of the radiators burst and the boiler was ruined,” she said.

They had been doing between 15 and 20 weddings a year for the past five years, but last year that number went up to nearly 30 weddings. Devereux currently runs a catering business that specializes in farm-to-table comfort food. She described a menu that includes influences from her own heritage and seamlessly merges farm-fresh ingredients with American, Mediterranean, and European classics. “It might mean that we would have Indian Dahl dip and we would have Italian olive oil breadsticks and we could do chicken pot pie, which is more of an Irish tradition. We might do brisket but have some American influences with pickled peaches,” she said.

Devereux described a renovation project that would scare most potential homeowners away.

Replacing the boiler meant they were able to install an energy-efficient heat pump system and remove all the destroyed radiators. As a bonus, each room in the house is now independently climate controlled. A private entrance services two bedrooms which are partially separated from the rest of the house. This section of the home also boasts a summer kitchen. “In those days, before air conditioning, they would move their operations into the summer kitchen for the hotter months because it was sort of like almost under the house and cooler,” Devereux said.

Devereux talks about her business with the confidence of an established entrepreneur. She knows what she enjoys making, what she does well and what is within her brand.

Upon its planned opening in the spring of 2020, 1773 Dewitt will have three rooms available. But what’s for breakfast?

“We're not one of those – soup-to-nuts caterers that'll just do any kind of theme or any kind of food. We just wanted to give food that we're good at and that speaks to us,” she said. If a couple asks for something they don’t do, like sushi, she’ll refer them to a more appropriate caterer.

“Gosh, I haven’t thought about it that much,” she said.

Then, her family found the Dewitt house, a historic home nestled between the villages of Clinton and Staatsburg, New York. They fell in love, despite its many structural problems – it had both fire and water damage – and she decided it was time to open a bed and breakfast.

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Still in “the throes of renovation” Devereux hasn’t quite sat down and made a menu, yet. “I can offer eggs and muffins and scones - the sort of things we served for breakfast at the restaurant,” she said. “We have a repertoire of scones and muffins that we were known for.” “You know, we've changed the name but it's still what we always used to do,” she added.

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More information can be found at: agnesdevereuxcatering.com

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FASHION | FOOD | ADVENTURE | HOME | HEALTH & WELLNESS | LITERATURE

Vegan vs. Non-Vegan Caramel Apple Tart

By Taylor Dowd

As fall rapidly approaches, I decided to bake something to prepare myself and my kitchen for the upcoming season. My interest in testing the limits of plant-based food inspired me to attempt a caramel apple tart two ways, vegan and traditional, to see which would taste better, and determine whether vegan ingredients truly make a difference.

Crumble

Salted Caramel

Crust

Filling

1 cup rolled oats

1 cup coconut sugar

1/2 cup raw almonds

3 apples (I used Pink Lady)

1/4 cup nondairy milk

1/2 cup raw pecans

3 tablespoons coconut sugar

3 tablespoons vegan butter

1 cup all-purpose flour

2 tablespoons lemon juice

1/4 teaspoon sea salt

4 tablespoons cold vegan butter

1 tablespoon all-purpose flour

3 tablespoons maple syrup

1 teaspoon cinnamon

1/4 cup coconut sugar 1/4 cup all-purpose flour 6 tablespoons cold vegan butter 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon 1/2 teaspoon nutmeg 1/4 teaspoon all-spice

1/4 teaspoon sea salt

Vegan Version 1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. 2. To create the crust, add the almonds and pecans into the bowl of a food processor and blend until mixture becomes a fine meal. Add remaining ingredients and blend until there are no lumps of flour. 3. Press dough into tart pan. Prick bottom of pan with a fork. Bake for eight to ten minutes until slightly golden, but not fully cooked. Remove from oven and allow to cool slightly. 4. While crust bakes, quarter, core and thinly slice apples. Add apples to bowl and incorporate other filling ingredients until well mixed.

Traditional Apple Tart

5. To a different bowl, add your crumble ingredients and mix with hands until large crumbs have formed. 6. Arrange apple slices over crust, sprinkle with crumb topping and place into oven. Bake for 25 minutes. 7. Combine caramel ingredients in a small saucepan over medium heat. Constantly mix for about seven minutes until caramel thickens and turns golden brown, then remove from the heat. 8. Allow tart to cool for at least 15 minutes. Remove from pan and serve in slices. **The crust recipe I followed did not make enough for my standard size pan and burnt as it spread too thinly. I started over with a store bought pie crust, as pictured.** Recipe adapted from https://www.hotforfoodblog.com/recipes/2015/8/24/salted-caramel-apple-crumble-tart/

Vegan Apple Tart

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Photography credit: George Catechis

Crust

Filling

Maple Caramel

6 tablespoons unsalted butter, cubed

3 apples (I used Pink Lady)

4 tablespoons butter

1 tablespoon vegetable oil

2 tablespoons lemon juice

1/2 cup maple syrup

3 tablespoons water

1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

3/4 cup heavy cream

1 tablespoon sugar

1/2 teaspoon cardamom

3/4 teaspoon sea salt

Pinch of salt

2 tablespoons sugar

1 heaping cup all-purpose flour

1 tablespoon flour 1/4 cup chopped pecans

Traditional Version 1. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. In a microwavable bowl combine butter, oil, water, sugar and salt. Place bowl in the microwave and heat for a minute and a half. Then keep microwaving in 30 second increments until the butter is bubbling and just starting to brown. 2. Add the flour to the bowl and mix until dough is created. Roll the dough into a ball and allow to cool for 15 minutes. 3. Press the dough into a the base of a tart pan and prick the bottom of the tart with a fork. Place into the oven to bake for 15 minutes. 4. As the crust bakes; core, quarter and thinly slice apples before tossing them into a mixing bowl and combining them with lemon juice, cinnamon, cardamom, sugar and flour. 5. Reduce the oven temperature to 375 degrees. Arrange the apple slices inside the tart crust. Sprinkle with pecans. Place the tart back in the oven for 20 minutes. 6. While the tart is in the oven, start to put together the caramel sauce. Melt butter in a saucepan, add maple syrup and cream, and bring the mixture to a boil. Stir constantly until mixture becomes light brown and coats the back of a spoon. Sprinkle in sea salt and stir. 7. Remove tart from the oven and pour caramel sauce over top. Place tart back into the oven for about 10 minutes or until apples are soft. Remove from the oven and when tart is completely cool, remove from pan to serve. Recipe adapted from https://neighborfoodblog.com/2014/10/salted-maple-caramel-apple-pecan-tart.html

Results, based on my (and some non-vegan tasters’) opinions: Vegan version: tastier apple filling, oat topping better than nuts, more attractive appearance, lacks authentic caramel flavor, Overall score 8/10

Non-vegan version: sweeter, better tasting caramel, more difficult to slice, less impressive topping texture, Overall score 7/10

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FASHION | FOOD | ADVENTURE | HOME | HEALTH & WELLNESS | LITERATURE

Five Fall Food Staples for Your Dorm Bÿ Mørgåñ Hüghës

Fall is absolutely, objectively, the best season of the year, foods that come with it! From pumpkin pie to Thanksgiving it comes to fall foods. But one problem for students living into their dorm. We can’t exactly bake a whole pie or cook keep in their dorms?

and one of the very best things about it is all the great turkey to literally any soup, you just can’t go wrong when on college campuses is bringing these classic fall foods a turkey for dinner, so what fall food staples can students

Cold Apple Cider This classic and fresh fall beverage is perfect for on-campus living. Sold in pint sizes at Tops Friendly Markets, these delicious drinks are small enough to fit right in your mini-fridge and perfect to bring with you to class.

Halloween Oreos What screams October (admittedly the best month of fall) better than spooky-themed snacks? Halloween Oreos are a great treat to store in your dorm room for some latenight spooky snack studying.

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Hot Chocolate It’s never too early in the year for a good cup of hot cocoa. Microwaveable hot chocolate mix is a simple and tasty way to enjoy the drink while living on-campus.

Apples Apples, one of the best fruits in season, are a delicious and nutritious way to bring fall food to your dorm room. Whether you take a trip to pick your own or just grab a few from Peregrine, with this Fall snack, you’ll be living appley ever after.

Çhåï Tëå Nothing’s better at the end of a long fall day than a good cup of chai tea. Chai tea is a simple and flavorful drink that is easy enough to make and has just enough caffeine to keep you focused on homework.

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FASHION | FOOD | ADVENTURE | HOME | HEALTH & WELLNESS | LITERATURE

A Home in the Trees By Nicole Wasylak

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The first step was neither thrilling nor boring. It was simply what I have always done. We put one foot in front of the other, hoping that those very feet would pull us in a better direction. But that’s not what this experience was about. It wasn’t about finding something more, or better, or prodigious. It was about existing. It was about reconnecting with the roots with which every single one of us has so negligently lost touch. It was about finding my place in a setting that was miles from home, the distance more profound than if I had been standing on the other side of the world. It’d be lying, however, if I said that the second step didn’t carry some form of excitement. A cavern of trees, gaping yet secluded, opened into the mountain. This cove was safeguarded by looming balsam fir and black spruce that emerged from the floor like sentinels, tall and watchful, old yet wise. There was a heavy silence that coincided with the forest, one that assured you that while the life around you did not have a tongue of its own, it was always communicating with the flora and fauna around it. About what, I am not so sure. I do not know what the forest speaks about, but I know that she most certainly does speak. That was why I found myself ready to climb Cascade Mountain. To go back, back to where we were supposed to be this entire time, so that I could better understand a language that we all no longer knew how to speak. Our lack of touch with our surroundings has turned us all deaf to the words that these gargantuan mountains whisper to us every day. I went back to listen. With each step, I imagined the ground absorbing my energy and dispersing it amongst the roots and mycelium below my feet. I could feel the connections both below and above me, the way the leaves of the tall red pines splayed out so they avoided contact with one another, allowing fractals of honey sunlight to press against the brush so that it set the most abstract parts of the woods aglow. Never in my life had I seen such a wonderful shade of green. Never has emerald or jade looked so dull compared to the jewels that sprouted from the branches lazily swaying above me. And while the backpack upon my spine weighed a great deal, there wasn’t a moment in my life that I had felt so light, the people at my back only made my experience that much greater. As we climbed higher, despite the air getting thinner, I was breathing more easily. The oxygen entering my lungs and cleansing any residue of another setting, indicated that my home was not atop this mountain, but miles and miles away. But that’s the thing about home; it’s not a destination. It’s not an address in a phone book. It’s not a house in an allocated lot. Home is merely wherever your heart is. And on that day, my heart was in the trees. It was hidden in the hemlock that tangled itself in between brambles and bushes. It was in the hollow of the trunks, where a variety of life also called home. It was everywhere. I was everywhere.

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The hour ticked by, the air gaining warmth from the sun that had been slowly climbing in the sky. The fog began to dissipate, that early-morning chill departing with it. My skin grew cold and clammy, and I shucked off my sweatshirt, my skin able to breathe the bracing air, so fresh I swore I could taste it on my tongue. It was no wonder that life around us was so abundant, no wonder the patches of greenery beside the trail looked like something out of a fairytale. Beds of moss, a carpet for the earth, spread along the mountain floor where bygone boulders slept quietly atop. Mayflies gathered in the sleepy cricks that ran through the terrain, the water gurgling silently as the winged creatures danced in unison around it. It was silent save for the low, deep thump of our footfalls. It seemed that with every step we took, the somnolent forest began to slowly awaken. Every now and again, we heard the stilly call of a warbler, so low and calm it was as if the birds were cognisant of the life that may have still been deep in slumber as the noon hour crept closer. It was about two hours into our slow ascent when tranquility evolved into excitement; I had no idea of the view I was about to witness at the peak of this 4,000 foot mountain. First, I was faced with a break in the trees, an area where the path yawned and gave way to a massive scramble that rose upward. Like a curtain, it obscured my view. I was immensely grateful, for I didn’t want to see my view until my feet were firmly planted at the top. There was a tightening in my chest that I didn’t recognize, an electric hum to my veins that felt alien but welcome. I felt a burning in the back of my throat and I bit my lip, blinking rapidly in an attempt to staunch the flow from my eyes. My eyes shifted back and forth, unable to help but drink in the view around me. I shielded them in an attempt to build suspense. My little sister grabbed my hand and pulled me forth, the elation in her own voice more important than my inability to truly process what I was seeing. I let her lead me forward, my very own

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FASHION | FOOD | ADVENTURE | HOME | HEALTH & WELLNESS | LITERATURE

A Tale of Two Cities By Nicole Gatto

guide, a captain of emotions that were far too difficult for me to process alone. Another emotion, this one more powerful than any I’d ever encountered, welled up within me, and I remembered that it wasn’t solely about where I was, but who I was with. I squeezed her hand tightly in mine, letting her guide me to the acme of the mountain. I was there. Before I knew it, my feet were planted firmly atop the peak, my arms shaking, heart racing, eyes raining. I turned to my family, eyes wide with humility, awe and a mixture of another feeling I still– to this day–cannot place. Mountains, far and wide, stretched across the land like sleeping giants. Giants from a millenia ago who have watched over the world far longer than the humans who climb to the top of them each day. The trees were quiet, hushed in a way that demanded our silence, as though the view deserved the utmost of reverence, in which I was not entitled to speak, but simply listen, to whatever they had to say.

When I studied abroad, I felt that there were two separate worlds in which I could choose to experience my host city. The first was the world of other Americans studying abroad: a world that was like a safe bubble filled with people who had similar, usually privileged experiences living in America. Then, there was the world of everyone else existing in my host city: people who lived there their whole lives. People who weren’t necessarily frolicking around a foreign country in the same way that I was. There were often culture and language barriers between myself and the locals. However, the more that I made an effort to make connections with locals and step out of my comfort zone, the bigger the reward. I learned that going with your gut, taking a risk every now and again, and being open to new experiences can really pay off. The best part of my study abroad experience was that I learned that adventure doesn’t have to mean taking a trip overseas; challenging yourself and meeting new people is its own adventure.

There was no other way to describe it besides allconsuming. This notion that I was at the zenith of the world and I could see everything. But it wasn’t just the view of the valleys that weaved their way across the land like stoic waves, or the way the clouds practically encompassed me as we both occupied the sky --- it was because I had a view of the world. Below me lay land that held places and names that I didn’t know, stories of people that would never be told to me. The pages of an entire book were laid out before me and even though I couldn’t read them, I could see them. I could see everything.

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Escaping Polygamyland By Caleb Wootan

Utah: the land of ten thousand wives. Only one husband, though. I can say that. I’m a former Mormon myself. Raised in a cult, you say? Well, I’d say that’s a little strong. It’s more of a corporation than a cult. Cults have charismatic leaders. Corporations have old and boring white men droning on about recruitment. It’s a classic multi-level marketing scheme. One that I was almost sucked into permanently—until I escaped polygamyland. To be clear, I wasn’t raised in Utah. I was sent there to join a select fraternity of anyone who could afford to pay to spend two years on a religious mission. How much, do you ask? For the small fee of ten thousand f*cking dollars, you can wear a full suit in sweltering heat and try to indoctrinate other people. Prefer dresses? Perfect, women can go too. Don’t fit within the suit/dress dichotomy? Prepare to be excommunicated.

I arrived at the Missionary Training Center bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and also full of doubts about the religion of which I was a part. Two weeks later, I decided to come home. Why, you ask? Do you see those Mormon missionaries in New Paltz sometimes, sitting outside Starbucks despite coffee being banned for them, and hocking their Book of Mormon; hocking their faith. A noble endeavor. What you may not know is that they spend 14 hours a day cooped up in a brick building on the campus of Brigham Young University having language skills and religious dogma shoved in their faces and down their throats. You keep them awake, tired and isolated. No calling home, except for twice a year. No emailing, except for once a week. No instant messaging. No texting. In a world of connections, you’re alone—except your “companion” who is also there to report on you to the mission president. I didn’t enjoy that at all. I was a ball of anxiety, fear and loneliness. I went to the counselors at the Missionary Training Center and they understood. They arranged to have me sent to the next level, the so-called “Stake” President, who had to be convinced I was suicidal enough to send home. Not because I merely had a desire to go home.

“I also learned that people shouldn’t always have to be this way.”

A little history of Mormonism, for the uninitiated: a 14-year-old boy said God and Jesus gave him golden plates that told the story of an ancient group of Israelites who made a big old boat and sailed to the Americas where they became the Native Americans. Nevermind that a) Joseph Smith was known for claiming to find hidden treasures, b) DNA has proven Native Americans are not Israeli, and c) there were later translations done on some of the scrolls Joseph Smith claimed to translate that didn’t match up. My lawyers/ bodyguards have advised me to be fair and balanced. I am legally required here to say the following: perhaps a group of Israelites did leave Jerusalem, build a big old boat, sail it to the Americas and establish an entire civilization. It’s possible they all died out and conveniently left the only evidence of their existence on a set of gold records. The same gold records that the young boy showed to less than 20 of his followers, some of whom left his church afterwards. So I guess there’s two sides to this.

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What did I learn? I learned the value of choice, freedom, etc. What I really learned is that people do amazing things to cope in extreme circumstances and can be extremely resilient. I also learned that people shouldn’t always have to be this way. Sometimes it’s okay to say, “Nah, I’m good, thanks,” and bow out. Sometimes the path of least resistance is also the path that’s right for you. There’s no shame in doing the easy thing as opposed to the hard thing. This all being said, the next time you see Mormon missionaries, don’t ridicule them or point out all this stuff. That’ll just imbed the “us vs. them” mentality Mormons have. Instead, be nice to them. Offer to buy them something to drink. Tell them they can go home if they want to. There’s this myth that with the church, you’re either with them or against them. I don’t believe that. I’m not with the church, and I am against it, but not because I have to be. I choose to speak out because people need to know that there is real damage being done, and I’m a white cis-gendered straight male. If I was miserable, what is it like for everyone else? That’s for a different article. I’ll refer you to the Mormon Stories podcast by John Dehlin, an excommunicated member for further information and also, read the Book of Mormon, it’s some wild ass sh*t.

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AN APPLE A DAY KEEPS BOREDOM AWAY

THE

By Abby Foster

It’s that season again. Just like that, the heat of summer has dwindled down to a moderate chill and swimsuits and sandals have been packed away for next year. Just because the leaves are beginning to change to burnt shades of yellow and red doesn’t mean that it’s time to shut yourself indoors just yet. There is still a place that you can go, equipped with a few extra layers, to enjoy the fresh air and have fun with friends and family. Everyone knows that apple picking is a staple of the fall season, but not many realize that a few local apple orchards offer much more than that. In the New Paltz area, there are orchards where you can find tractor-pulled hayrides, farmers markets and stunning views of the changing foliage that covers the Shawangunks.

Just 15 minutes down the road, Tantillo’s Farm in Gardiner has a variety of fruit and vegetables ripe for picking throughout the month of October including apples, plums, pears, leafy greens and squash. You can even catch a tractor-pulled wagon ride to the orchard. Want something a little sweeter than fresh fruit? Tantillo’s has their own ice cream stand that serves homemade fruit sundae toppings with a sitting area that has a perfect view of the Shawangunk mountains. If you’re lucky, you might even get to watch the occasional adrenalinejunkie jumping from planes and parachuting into far away fields.

For those legally old enough to consume alcohol, a different type of orchard awaits you in Walden. There, the famous cider brand Angry Orchard offers tours, cider tastings and lawn games for visitors. The best part? Each patron gets a free flight of three ciders of their choice to sample, making this the perfect orchard to visit if you want to get away without spending any money. If you do decide to open your wallet, there is plenty of Angry Orchard merchandise to buy, as well as cider themed soaps, jelly and candles.

Twin Star Orchards, located in New Paltz, is a place where you spend your entire afternoon picking, eating and drinking. During the month of October, they offer Red Delicious, Fuji and Granny Smith apples for all your pie-making needs. They also have a pavilion where you can grab pizza, burgers and a cheese plate if you’re feeling hungry. For those over the age of 21, Twin Star also features a tasting room where they offer samples of their hard cider. At their farmstand inside of the tasting room, you can find unique, locally sourced products like maple syrup, assorted hypoallergenic soaps and wine jellies.

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Senior Year Bucketlist By Annemarie Durkin

As graduation day is rapidly approaching, the pressure to make my time in New Paltz count is intensifying. I’ve spent three years spent making memories here and there is still so much I want to accomplish. Here are 16 things I want to do before my best friends and I graduate in the spring (with room to add more).

Hike the Lemon Squeeze Four Loko night-in Eat in the dining hall - For old times’ sake Night swim at Tillson Lake Ride the bull at Joe’s East West Visit our freshman dorms Winery tour Try as many New Paltz restaurants as possible Watch the sunset at the Lookout Walkway Over the Hudson Drinking Week! - Go to a different bar each night Crash a freshman party Go to the local strip club– Blue Moon Cabaret Host an open party Do something freshman-year me would be proud of THE TELLER

My First Festival: Governors Ball 2019 By Alli Dempsey

For many teenagers living in the five boroughs of New York City, the annual Governors Ball music festival is seen as a musical and Instagram-able rite of passage. Located on Randall’s Island, a small piece of land sandwiched between East Manhattan and Queens, the 3-day spectacle usually takes place during the first weekend of June. For years, I could only watch through my phone screen as legendary acts such as The Strokes, The Killers and Kendrick Lamar rocked the main stage. I would stare at my closet in shame as the cool GovBall kids flashed their trendy outfits all over social media. That all changed this summer when I was presented with a 2-day pass as a graduation gift. I picked out my most unique outfits, grabbed a couple friends, and hopped on the ferry to begin my adventure. The bill for this year was pretty legendary, with rising rap artists BROCKHAMPTON and Tyler, The Creator being the most buzzed-about headliners. Indie acts like Hippo Campus and The 1975 seemed to gather attention as well. Even though I was pumped that I got to witness my favorite bands in concert, watching the lesser known artists quietly dominating the smaller stages was a nice surprise. At any time, you could walk over to any tent and see what was going on. Govball is a buffet-style dining hall of new music, and Still Woozy and Injury Reserve are just two examples of new foods I tried and ended up loving. Since Governors Ball is an arts festival as well, new music wasn’t the only thing I discovered. The food vendors really knew how to get creative with their dishes. Chomping on ramen burgers and drinking juice out of a watermelon are both things I never imagined myself doing until that Friday. There were many places to sit and people-watch while I ate and lots of art exhibits to walk through and explore while digesting. I met so many creators, felt like an influencer while walking through and taking pictures in a “house of mirrors,” and somehow got covered in glitter wherever I seemed to go. GovBall seems to be very glitter-obsessed. I’ve been to plenty of concerts before GovBall, but none prepared me for the authentic festival moshing I partook in. The pit for BROCKHAMPTON was definitely the craziest because of how fast-paced and energizing all of their songs are! I got tossed around like a fish in the ocean, almost separated from my group and, at one point, had a wig thrown at me. I feared for my life, but I don’t regret it at all. I definitely got some arm and leg workouts in from that hour and a half gig. The crowd for established rap artist Denzel Curry was just as bad and I almost lost my sunglasses several times. Tip: Stuff everything in a fanny pack beforehand! Even though I was only at the festival for two days, I can honestly say that it was beginning to feel like a way of life. Everyone seemed to be carefree and the environment was a unique vibe that can’t be reproduced. It was so nice being able to wander across the campgrounds and into any crowd or any food truck or any exhibit and freely explore my surroundings. It was a release getting away from the mundane tasks of daily life for one weekend, and have a million dreams come true in the span of 48 hours. This is an adventure I will never forget, and will definitely tell this story for years to come.

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TRAVELING ALONE TAUGHT ME

I SHOULDN’T BE

I haven’t always been a spontaneous person. My mom was a planner; someone who liked to schedule every hour of a vacation, and I followed suit. It wasn’t until I took a conscious note of how my immediate response to last-minute plans was to say “no,” without a second thought, that I knew I had to try and change. That’s why when a family member told me about a friend who worked on dude ranches in the summers of her college career, I decided on a whim to apply. That led to the best summer of my life working as a wrangler on a dude ranch in Colorado. My adventurous spirit was growing, and I knew I had to fulfill my dream of studying abroad.

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In the Spring of 2019, I studied abroad in London. Other than working in Colorado for a summer, this was the most adventurous thing I had ever done. Four months studying and traveling throughout Europe pretty much by myself and without a plan was not something I would’ve imagined myself doing a couple years ago. Most people wouldn’t want to travel alone for two reasons: safety and boredom. In my experience, safety has never really been a huge issue when traveling. Of course, I haven’t been to stereotypically “more dangerous” places, but I have been around plenty of crowded European cities. Most European cities have fantastic public transportation systems (much better than the U.S.), which decreases the need for long walks through confusing streets or sketchy taxi drives late at night. Even with being in London at the same time as many, many Brexit protests, I never really felt in danger. You just need to be smart about where you are and notice when things start getting a little hectic.

Boredom wasn’t really something I dealt with while traveling, either. While I believe that most people don’t like to be alone in their heads for long periods of time, that is where I thrive. You have to be able to amuse yourself when you haven’t got anyone to keep you entertained, and that’s what I did a lot while studying abroad. Finding ways to pass idle time and keep it interesting for myself is one of my favorite things to do. An easy way to fix this, is to not let yourself get bored. If you’re constantly doing things and going to see sites and explore, you won’t even notice how boring and alone it might’ve felt. I think you take a lot more in when you’re by yourself. When you’re traveling with friends, you have someone to talk to rather than observing what’s around you and really taking it all in. When you travel alone, you notice a lot more about where you are since you don’t have anyone else to rely on to get you where you need to go. While studying and traveling abroad, I learned just how much I enjoy traveling by myself. It gives you freedom that you’ve never felt and confidence you can’t get anywhere else. I can’t imagine going back and not making the decision to go to London. Making that decision was the best thing I have ever done.

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AFRAID TO EXPLORE THE UNKNOWN By Rachel Muller

In case you’re thinking about studying abroad and you’re just not sure whether you’re confident enough, adventurous enough, or whatever, let me try to make it an easy choice for you. When I’m nervous about something or not sure if I’d be able to do it, I ask myself a simple question. In this case, I thought to myself: would I rather stay at New Paltz next semester and keep the same, boring routine and live life the way I am, or would I rather go to London and get to explore Europe while earning credits for it? I also asked myself: would I regret not doing this? Once I answer those simple questions, then I can reassess why I was nervous and pretty much convince myself why it’s just simply a better idea and why I shouldn’t be nervous. I try to make it black and white for myself.

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Studying abroad helped grow my adventurous and spontaneous side, while soothing the ever-growing wanderlust in my soul. It taught me that I shouldn’t be afraid to follow an adventure and chase my dreams. If you don’t take crazy opportunities when they present themselves to you, what kind of life is that? You have to take the life you’ve been given and make it worthwhile, you have to make the most out of it.

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VIntage ShOppIng Connecting to the Past with Less Junk for the Future By Erin Freeman

I feel most at home amongst a hodge-podge of relics. Most of my possessions have been around longer than I have, and I hope that they find new homes when it’s time for them to leave mine. I’m a sucker for twentieth century aesthetics; each decade has its own color palette, style of lines, and distinct version of a floral pattern. These styles are so connected to their era that they can lend their connection to you and your home with each use or view. While the sentimental and nostalgic reasons to choose vintage shopping are already plentiful, our generation’s growing eco-consciousness lends a more practical

spin on it. The dark repercussions of man-made objects’ tenacity is becoming more pressing, and using them instead of supporting the creation of even more future landfill inhabitants is a wonderful way to show our planet some love (and to stick it the capitalistic man!). Whether you have an affinity for a particular era, share my mix-andmatch attitude, or are looking to shop secondhand for ethical reasons, I’m here to send some nostalgia-packed decorating tips your way.

FURNITURE AND DECOR The dreaded combination of a college budget and apartment living makes decorating in any style intimidating. Fear not! While not being able to control the wall color or carpeting of your space is limiting, vintage furniture can actually be more kind to your wallet than buying new. Don’t let boutiques and up-scale antique shops convince you that all vintage furniture is out of your price range. Instead, keep your eyes peeled for yard and estate sales and check out thrift stores and warehouses. You should be able to find affordable pieces in good condition, or you could pay next to nothing for something that you can put a little elbow grease and spray paint into. If you have your heart set on a cohesive style, you’ll have to put in extra hunting effort, but don’t be afraid of letting pieces from different eras co-mingle. Even having one vintage piece amongst newer furniture can add a little quirk to a room. If vintage furniture seems like too much of a commitment, you can always incorporate things like clocks, knick-knacks and picture frames to make your room feel more subtly eclectic.

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Books and records Opening up a used book to see that someone else’s grandma has written out a happy birthday inscription in fragile cursive has a certain kind of magic. There’s no way of knowing if the birthday girl ever read this book or how many people have read it since, but by reading it now you get to share the story with all of them. I get a similar sensation when I’m feeling extra sentimental and put on a record. Singing along to a Cyndi Lauper record can connect you to any number of previous owners, long-over parties and emotional moments from a stranger’s life. Aside from the time-travelling aspect of used books and records, they both also lend an eclectic air to a room. Fill a bookshelf with any combination of used and new books, and sprinkle in a few vintage knick-knacks to break it up visually. Records can be stored in any appropriately sized box, but favorites can also be propped up on shelves or carefully pinned on walls for decoration. New Paltz has several used books and record shops and thrift stores that also have smaller selections with lower prices.

dinnerware Plates, glasses and bowls are an often overlooked way of injecting some nostalgia into your everyday life. Thrift stores often have several sets to choose from and usually don’t require that you buy the entire set together. Because vintage dinner sets are so abundant, it shouldn’t take long before you find something that suits your tastes. I found my ‘70s floral set of plates in a Goodwill for a quarter a piece, and they make me feel cozy inside every time I see them. I may not be eating jello with fruit floating around in it off of these plates, but they still give me a hankering for a Brady Bunch marathon. So much of what humans make sticks around far longer than they stay in style. Luckily, we don’t have to be confined by current trends. If pink Pyrex baking dishes or art deco lamps make you happy then take advantage of them. They’re already here, and bringing them into your home keeps them out of landfills and furthers their legacies.

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FASHION | FOOD | ADVENTURE | HOME | HEALTH & WELLNESS | LITERATURE

Movement and migration By Bethelihem Gebresilasie My migration journey from Eritrea to the United States has served as a catalyst for my life as it is wide and evereaching. At the age of nine, in May of 2010, I left Eritrea with my mother. Excited for my first airplane ride, I hurriedly said farewell to my father, unaware that it would be several years before I could see him again. The plane landed in Khartoum, the capital city of Sudan. We moved into an air-conditioned apartment, where I spent the majority of that summer. By the time I started fourth grade, I was desperate for interaction. The isolating effects of migration became evident to me, as I stayed at home alone while my mother worked. I felt a deep yearning for my father, my friends, and my community back home. On the first day of school, I woke up before my alarm rang and put on the uniform I had prepared the night before: a red shirt and blue cargo pants that adhered to Sharia laws. I quickly ate my breakfast and waited by my window, stained red from the routine sand storms. For the first time, I was a new student—an experience I would have time and time again in the future. In Eritrea, I had attended the same school from kindergarten to third grade, alongside the same group of peers. Moving to an unfamiliar learning environment and social setting forced me to build meaningful relationships with peers from different cultural contexts. I liked the droll of Khartoum. It was a dry and slow heat. There was always someone selling sweet tea with cinnamon in a corner, and you can sit on a makeshift stool as the sun beat down your back. The main mode of transport was a reksha, a three wheeled car with leather curtains for doors. As it skid down the highways, the curtains would flap like a pair of wings.

A year later, after I had begun to feel settled in Sudan, my mother and I migrated to Uganda. She continued her work in South Sudan, while I remained in Uganda with a relative. Separated from my parents, I was emboldened to develop my own values; I took note of the traces of colonization around me, like the way in which the English language rippled through the air. Another healthy component of being raised in African nations and witnessing the everlasting violence of colonialism is my lack of reverence for the West. Without the scribble of movement, my grasp on history wouldn’t be as wide and progressive. Colonialism was a violence without an end, as it’s been replaced by economic puppetry and entrenched a deep sense of dysfunction into African communities. After two years of living in Uganda, I left for the United States. I continued to meditate on the effects of oppression in Uganda and globally. Throughout my journey, I have realized that my community is not confined to a particular location, but to all the spaces in which I have had a glimpse of. I feel that there is a desire to connect your identity with your geography. It’s understandable, as your location dictates the stream of culture you drink from, and the cultural expectations you will abide to. It’s constricting, to continue your sense of self persistently based on your location. There’s always more, and the sense of solid fluidity gained through travel is worth the temporary sense of loss of identity felt in the beginning. My past has been the bearer of growth, change, and shifts in my perspective. Here in the United States, I am grateful for my desire and ability to connect with a diverse range of people and adapt to the constructs of each community. I feel hooks attaching me to every part of the world I’ve lived, each leaving an irrevocable mark.

However, I still felt like a foreigner. There is an ache in recreating a new community; I felt abandoned my surrounding. A total estrangement from a world that is so painfully solitary, but not eternal. I made friends, and when I improved my Arabic it was easier to feel a ribbon of bondage to my Sudan. It’s interesting the way culture is an adhesive, these artifacts of language, food, and clothing, allowed me to view Sudan as a place I could and wanted to reside in. However, I felt no desire to adopt the national identity. I knew and understood that I was not Sudanese and will never be, yet it was never a deterrent in soothing my sense of inferiority. We moved to four different apartments in Sudan, so the turbulence became second nature and adapting to chaos a hobby.

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Five Tips on Packing for College By Caroline Goulet

College is a big step. For most people, it’s the first time you are away from your parents, being totally independent. For me, as a freshman, this was a huge step. I had to pack everything I needed for a whole 10 months into one small car, keeping in mind that I’m in a triple bedroom and only getting a third of the already small room. When I was preparing for college, I watched a million and one videos titled: “Dorm Room Shopping” or “Everything ALL Freshman Need to Know!” The problem with looking at a million blogs, lists and videos is that they are all individual to the student and the school they are attending. The amount of dorm room tours I have watched in my free time is vast, proving to me that all dorm rooms are not the same; they all have different amenities (if you want to call them that). That being said, I have picked up a few helpful tips for packing. Plan Accordingly for Weather When I was packing for fall and winter, I figured I needed to pack everything because I thought I was not coming home until Christmas. I was wrong! You will go back home (unless you live in a different state or across the country) and you will be able to bring stuff back to school. Don’t worry about December until it arrives. Pick Out Everything You Need First I did this by going through my whole wardrobe and laying out everything I could possibly need. As time went on, I picked stuff out that I knew I could live without before I packed everything away. Think Minimally In most cases, you are getting half the space in the room. You don’t need half of the stuff that is in your room now, so try to think of the things you absolutely need before adding impulse objects. Decorating You are moving your whole life to another place for the majority of the year; that does not mean you should listen to all the videos you watch. Keep it minimal. I would suggest bringing some cork boards and pictures of the people you love. Bring some cute knick knacks but don’t go overboard. If your school allows it, bring a tapestry or something that makes you feel happy. Multi-Use Objects: When you’re buying things for your dorm, try to think about functionality. Buy a lamp that can also be a pencil holder. Buy the crates at Target to store things in. Be creative with the space you have. When packing for college, you have to think minimally and persist through the frustration. Packing for school may be difficult and tedious, but with these helpful tips you can make the whole process less intimidating.

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By Shyana Fisher

Where is it? Worcester, NY

Describe it. It’s a very small town in Upstate New York. We have a total of 3 restaurants, an ice cream shop, and a Dollar General. There is also a Stewart’s and a movie theater. Everyone seems to know everyone, and the school district includes 340 students in grades K-12. You could probably drive through it in the time it takes you to listen to a song, but every time I pass through it I get nostalgic. Some of the most poignant memories from my past are on these streets and in that school building.

What makes it home? The people. Sure, a lot of them can be nosy and somewhat irritating, but there’s nothing I miss more than a warm smile when I walk through the door of the local Stewart’s. Going back to the high school halls reminds me of how small my world was, but it truly was my world back then. And of course my family makes it home for me. My grandfather is the town judge, my dad is the school board president, and my mom works and volunteers at school. We are ingrained in Worcester’s roots.

art by Bethelihem Gebresilasie

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Where Do You Call Home?

I will say that it gets old quite fast. I am ultimately glad I made the leap out of Worcester, but to quote Hannah Montana, “you’ll always find your way back home.” A little home now and again is a good thing to get your head back on straight.

How to get there? So I take I-87 North up to the Catskill/Cairo exit, and then go on 145 straight through to Middleburgh. Take a right at the fork at the edge of town, and then hop on I-88 to the Richmondville exit. Take another right, drive through the town for about 10 miles, and my house is up the road at the only four corners in East Worcester.

THE TELLER

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Why it’s Okay that I’m a Senior Living on Campus By Kelsey Fredricks

When I envisioned my final year of college at the start of it all, I didn’t picture I would take a semester off, ultimately graduating a full semester passed my desired May 2019 graduation date. It was comforting for me to know that I’d be done with college by the summertime. I’ve come to realize this a concern related to a societal belief that everyone endures eight continuous college semesters, without any breaks or intersession classes. We will all end up in a sorority or frat, chugging along to classic ‘80s through 2000s jams on our final night before the anxiety-inducing, bittersweet morning ceremony. Now, while I’ll still technically be able to put 2019 as a graduation date on my resume, I’m going to have to move back to my childhood home and wait four more months before I can actually walk across that stage. Also, graduation parties usually aren’t held in below-freezing temperatures, or so I’ve heard. Icy roads and heavy snow are not meant to replace ice cream and chocolate cake with vanilla buttercream frosting. I honestly don’t even know if most college students have these, but my point is that I haven’t been on track with the typical college routine ever since I transferred to SUNY New Paltz from SUNY Adirondack. In my mind’s grand plan, the one that has been trained to rush these moments instead of taking time to smell the peonies and study the clouds, I expected to be living off-campus by now. Don’t get me wrong, I really enjoy my suitemates, but I can’t help feeling out of place at times. For example: during a mandatory floor meeting with our RA on the first night, no other resident said that they were a senior. I was the only one. However, with every passing day, I am learning that this is nothing to be ashamed of. I was the only one in a couple dozen students to be a senior, but I’m not the only fourthyear who still lives on campus. I didn’t live on campus at my previous college, and I lived in a house off campus this past spring when I studied abroad –– so I guess you could say that this is all still a somewhat new experience for me. And that’s okay.

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I was busy making new friends and exploring the local culture when everyone else was discussing their living situations in the spring –– but at least I don’t have to pay for that 12-month lease. I also don’t have to worry about finding time to cook a meal in-between my three jobs and four classes. There’s usually a bright side to the situations that we find negative. Just because we think everyone else is doing something, doesn’t mean we need to ourselves. Sure, I thought that I’d be buying my own groceries at Tops by now, instead of paying for a plan that costs twice as much as what I’d spent on food in Ireland. And that I would have a solid friend group sharing a cozy home with me, all of us gathering to watch the latest Netflix-original series together and pair them with a bottle of pink moscato, fuzzy socks and inside jokes. But I didn’t need to move off campus in order to do this. I just spent last weekend watching “No Strings Attached” and “Hustlers” with my suitemates, and I loved every minute of it. Honestly, as someone who is still getting to know New Paltz and that on-campus life, even though I sadly have to leave it soon, I’ve found that I should be more grateful for this situation than upset about it. We all walk down our own paths; therefore, instead of seriously questioning our strides, we need to allow ourselves to live more in the moments that make life what it is: unexpected, and also beautiful. Sure, I’m a senior who still lives on campus, but I’m also someone who has become much happier with this life than when my college journey began. There’s no shame in your reality differing from your former dreams. I also thought I’d be married by 18 as a little girl, but I also didn’t think I’d actually be able to live in Ireland. Regardless, we all still walk across that same stage, no matter our timing or experiences. Sometimes, what we don’t expect or desire turns out to create the best memories and lessons for us. And that’s a part of life that I’m growing to love more with every passing year.

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Mom, I'm Home By Tina Staniscia

Although there are many different interpretations of home, who says, “you can’t go home again?” Here’s the thing. Being Mom to four kids, one a recent graduate of New Paltz, and two others still in college, from my perspective, oh yes you can. And you do. My daughter recently moved in with her boyfriend and got a new job. Although she doesn’t come over to do her wash, she does call to see if there is anything she can grab for lunch, or asks what her dad is cooking for dinner. Friday night is grocery night for her and her honey. Do they only shop for a few days, then leave the rest to chance? I think I will ask her the next time she is in the kitchen making herself a tuna sandwich. The two college boys, one a senior in Florida, the other a junior in Vermont, are a little too far away to drop in for a meal. But when they are home, they don’t skip a beat. The dirty laundry gets dumped in the basement. George, the family cat, gets checked for his latest softness level. The fridge gets raided, and the homebound little brother gets moved from his favorite spot on the couch. Since their dad is the head chef of the house, he might be home from work 2.3 seconds before they too want to know what’s for dinner. Please. Don’t get me wrong. It is okay when my kids make their way through the front door. Whether it is for a meal or a week, I love when they are home. I have missed them. But here’s the thing, just because they have been out on their own, doesn’t mean things are different in the day to day workings of the house they grew up in. Garbage still needs to go out, the drainboard needs emptying, groceries need to be put away, and manners still matter. Although we are a loving family, everyone isn’t all huggy-smoochy. You and yours may or may not be either. But do me a solid. When you do go home with a suitcase full of stinky t-shirts and track pants, a little hug, being nice to your younger sibling, and feeding the family pet is noticed and appreciated. Straighten up your room. Don’t leave your smelly clothes or wet towels on the floor. Show your parents they taught you how to be a good human out in the world. We know you won’t always remember to send a Hallmark card, but when you are home, how about a “thanks Ma,” or a “love ya Dad?” It doesn’t cost you anything but time and effort. It won’t kill you either, and trust me. It will make your folks happier than you could ever know.

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How to Stick to A Budget in College By Shyana Fisher

Let’s face it; money talks. And most of the time, it just says “spend me!” College students are always known for being broke and, to be fair, most of us are. But there are ways to budget accordingly that will make you break the stereotype, not the bank. Here are my top five tips for making and sticking to a budget in college. 1. Be realistic. If you spend $50 on clothes every Saturday, or have an addiction to Chinese takeout, account for that in your budget. Instead of cutting it out altogether, maybe limit it to certain times during the month, or give yourself a cap. Once you hit that, your quota is up for the month and that’s that. I think it’s perfectly alright to spend money on things that make you happy, as long as you plan for it accordingly. Also, definitely be on the lookout for student discounts. Use them wisely and while you still can. 2. Use separate bank accounts: One for spending, one for saving. Make sure they are two different cards if possible. I have one bank at home that I deposit all my summer checks into, and then I have one for school that my direct deposit goes to. I try to build up a good amount in each account over the summer as well. If I only bring one card out with me, then I can’t overspend. 3. Spend the most on investment pieces. I try to splurge on items that I know will need to last me for a long time. For example, I bought this great storage cubby for my dorm to use as a nightstand. While it was a hit to my bank account, I knew that later on I could use it in apartments and houses for years to come. Things I don’t splurge on include groceries, accessories and toiletries. The generic brand will do just as well, and that leaves more room for spoils elsewhere. 4. Don’t take experiences for granted. I try to go 50/50 on my spending. 50 percent on material objects, and the other 50 percent on experiences and outings. Those memories could be talked about for years to come. I also group gasoline with outings because that vehicle gets me to half of my adventures. Speaking of gas, I make sure to run it until almost empty and then fill up. That’s what keeps me from pulling into a gas station every other day to put my last $10 in. You actually spend less if you do it all at once. 5. Let’s talk emergencies. They happen. As a student, I would say a good safety net is about $500. It sounds like a lot, but things come up and the last thing you want is to be stuck at the trailways station with no money to get home, or scrambling for change to get your medication. Once you have that money saved, hide it. Put it directly in your savings account and please don’t touch it. Life hits you when you least expect it. That’s it! Those are my rules. Sure, sometimes things happen and it isn’t possible to even budget. But for the most part I like to keep myself actively planning for the worst, and praying for the best.

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FASHION | FOOD | ADVENTURE | HOME | HEALTH & WELLNESS | LITERATURE

Transitioning Healthily Into Your Freshman Year

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The dreaded “Freshman Fifteen” is argued to be a myth, but it’s a reality for many college students. As you’re adjusting to the college lifestyle, what you eat may not be one of your top priorities, especially when you finally have the freedom to eat and drink whatever you want whenever you want. Here are some of the factors that contribute to the Freshman Fifteen and some ways you can avoid it.

Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, so don’t skip it. It opens up your metabolism and prepares you for the day. Skipping breakfast will only lead to you being more hungry. This can cause you to snack or eat more than you might have if you’d had eaten breakfast. Don’t drink your calories. Try not to consume too many energy drinks or lattes from Starbucks or Pete’s. Watch your alcohol intake, because the calories add up quickly, especially in beer. Instead, drink lots of water. This is a simple trick that can help improve your appetite. It is no surprise that the food on campus is not always the healthiest, but try your best to choose wisely. Eat in moderation and during reasonable hours. This means no late night snacks. Aim to have breakfast between 7 a.m. to 10 a.m., lunch between 12 p.m. to 3 p.m., and dinner from 6 p.m. to 8 p.m. It will definitely make a difference.

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While you may be tempted to stay up binge watching Netflix or scrolling through all your social media apps, fight the urge. Make sure to get at least seven to nine hours of sleep at night.

One of the best ways to maintain your weight is exercising. Try to come up with a gym schedule that aligns with your classes or get friends to accompany you. You can also check out workout classes that the school gym has to further motivate you. Now you know how to avoid the “Freshman Fifteen,” but it’s up to you to put in the work. Good luck.

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by Emily Trama

and maybe even to come back in a new form that you no longer recognize. A cloud doesn’t stop moving, your breath doesn’t stop moving and your mind doesn’t stop moving, but we do hold the ability to slow things down in our heads when we set an intention to.

Our thoughts come and go like breaths in and out. Some we never notice; others we dwell on. Some consume every moment of our day, making us feel anxious. This is when we need to give ourselves a moment to sit and do nothing but think. For many people, this is an overwhelming proposition. In such a fast-paced world, we would often rather let the business of the day block out our natural thoughts and keep us distracted from them as long as possible… but how do you deal with things if you never face them? The good news is, you don’t have to prepare for a ferocious battle. There’s no need to shed blood just yet. Instead, we need to sit, relax and, like our breath, allow thoughts to flow in and out of our consciousness. Close your eyes and imagine your thoughts are clouds in the sky, slowly but steadily passing you by. As thoughts come up, whether they are issues, excitements, anxieties or your favorite memories, pin each of them to a cloud. Acknowledge the thought and appreciate it the way you do a cloud that looks like a bird or a ship. After a moment allow the cloud to pass by, not to be seen again for a while

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This is called mindfulness: being aware of one’s self in whatever moment you find yourself in. I look at mindfulness as the ability to control the pace of my thoughts. I’m still learning how to be the one in charge of that pace. Other thoughts or people can seep into your head and start to take the reins of your mind and steer your thoughts one way or another. This can be something that worries you deeply or excites you so much that you become distracted from reality. They may tell you that your irrational thoughts are rational and the rational ones are irrational. They can make you think less of something great or highly of something poor. I like to think of these thoughts as rain clouds in my sky. I can ignore them for awhile. I can tell myself it’s fine, that they will pass and maybe I’ll even tell myself they aren’t really rain clouds. But if I don’t face reality and acknowledge that the clouds are grey, dark and gloomy, it’s going to rain on me. There are people in our lives that make our skies dark and stormy. How many days of rain can you take before you find yourself on your knees begging for the sun to come out? Do you acknowledge the first drop or do you wait until the flood is up to your neck, threatening to drown you? There never really is a better time than the present. Now marks the moment you begin to decide who you need to step away from in order to stop the rains and clear the flood. This is never an easy task. How do we just erase the history of a relationship or the amazing memories, the laughs, the good feeling someone may give us in brief and fleeting moments? The answer is simple: you don’t. You cannot and should not even attempt to forget that piece of your life, your being. These people and memories helped bring you to this point and taught you something important… that you are the one in control of your mind. They are the ones that forced your fingers to bend, your hand to grasp around your life and your inner voice to say, “This is mine and only mine.”

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Close your eyes again. Instead of your thoughts, imagine the people in your life that bring rain clouds with them whenever they come around. Now pin those people to the white clouds that pass so smoothly and softly through the sky. Like your thought clouds, they will come back again, but differently now; a little more distant, smaller, blurring away into the background like a haze in the sky. When you see them, smile, acknowledge them and the role they played in your journey up to that very moment, and walk away. Keep walking until they become distant, smaller, and blur into the sea of other people and things around you. Slowly but surely, the relationship you once had will fade as well, never leaving entirely, but may never take the shape it once had. Perhaps, for the first time in a while, you can suddenly look at your sky and see only white clouds: your own thoughts. After a while of sitting with those thoughts, they all will pass and you can finally find the time to close your eyes and feel the sun on your face.

“This is mine and only mine.� THE TELLER

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FASHION | FOOD | ADVENTURE | HOME | HEALTH & WELLNESS | LITERATURE

by Danielle Dorion

Going to the gym can be daunting for all of us. Everyone usually tells themselves that they don’t know what to do in the gym or they don’t have time. These are valid excuses. Our personal lives can simply get in the way. With that being said, going to the gym is a personal choice. Someone shouldn’t be going to the gym because they feel they need to or because someone else told them to. It should be a motivation for you to go to feel great afterwards and because you want to.

Ab Circuit

Working out consistently can be difficult while you’re in college; however, I’ve made it a priority within my schedule over the past year. I try to go at least four or five times a week. This is what I feel works for my body. Some people might feel the need to only go two or three times, and their routine could be completely different depending on what they want for their health and body. I feel my best when I’m regularly going to the gym with one or two days off. There are times when I feel stressed or I don’t feel like being in the gym. And that’s OK. Listening to your mind and body is extremely important too. Putting the gym in your calendar or within your schedule no matter what happens during the week, even if that’s two or three times, or even once, will definitely make it easier to keep going over time. I don’t necessarily believe that there’s a ‘holy grail’ workout routine that everyone should be following in order to get in shape. Working out is subjective. It can be done in many different ways. The workout routine below is what I did when I first started working out on a schedule. I would do this everyday. My workout routine has changed quite a lot. Now it includes a focus on my arms and back. This simple and straightforward routine is great for beginners too.

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• 12:00 p.m. Ripped with Corinna in Dance Studio • 5:15 p.m. Cycle with Gabby in Cycling Room • 6:30 p.m. Ab Lab with Sasha in Dance Studio • 7:00 p.m. Yoga with Zach in Room 101 • 7:00 p.m. Burlesque with Shannon in Dance Studio • 8:00 - 9:00 p.m. Boot Camp with Maggie in Dance Studio • 11:00 a.m. Yoga with Alexa in Room 101

• 12:00 p.m. Pilates Barre Fusion with Christina in Dance Studio

• 5:00 p.m.Yoga with Traci in Room 101

• 1:00 p.m. Yoga for Recovery with Christina in Room 101

• 5:15 p.m. Cycle with Gabby in Cycling Room

• 5:15 p.m. Yoga with Traci in Room 101

• 8:00 p.m. Zumba with Michele in Dance Studio

• 5:20 p.m. Zumba with Nereida in Dance Studio • 6:30 - 7:30 p.m. Boot Camp with Maggie in Dance Studio • 7:00 p.m. Yoga with Zach in Room 101

• 11:00 a.m Pilates with Sam in Room 101 • 12:00 p.m. Cycle with Corinna in Cycling Room

• 7:00 p.m. Cycle with Rachel in Cycling Room

• 12:00 p.m. Pilates Barre Fusion with Alexa in Room 101 • 5:00 p.m. Cycle with Rachel in Cycling Room • 5:15 p.m. K Pop with Fan in Dance Studio • 6:00 p.m. Yin Yog/Meditation with Traci in Room 101

• 7:30 p.m. Zumba with Michele in Dance Studio

• 12:00 p.m. Pilates with Christina in Room 101 • 6:00 p.m. Cycle with Genevieve in Cycling Room • 7:00 p.m. Yoga with Julia in Room 101 • 7:00 p.m. Dance Fitness with Juliana in Dance Studio

• 1:00 - 2:30 p.m. MMA Fitness in Room 101 • 5:30 p.m. Dancercize with Malka in Dance Studio • 7:00 p.m. Cardio Hip Hop with Shannon in Dance Studio

• 8:00 p.m. Ab Lab with Sona in Dance Studio

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By Julia Catalanello

WHAT? THE TELLER

What? is the band bringing packed houses and funky tunes to New Paltz. Playing sets ranging from original songs to covers of Phish and Stevie Wonder, What? is sure to make you want to dance. The band features Dan Steen on guitar, Ryan Perrone on trombone and keys, Jeremiah Mahoney on bass, Alex Endres on percussion and Russell Hartman on saxophone. The band has evolved tremendously since forming during Steen and Perrone’s freshman year and are continuing to do so as they record their debut album. Q: How did you get your name? A: Ryan: We were just coming up with stupid names and we came to the conclusion that we didn’t want to corner ourselves with the type of music that we would play. Then it was like what should we call ourselves? Like what we should call ourselves. What? And then we tried it at open mic and people really seemed to like it. Q: How would you describe your sound? A: Dan: Funk rock with heavy jazz influence and a little bit of R&B on our newer tunes. Q: How do you think you’ve evolved musically since the start of What? A: Jerry: It was mostly jam band progressions based around the trombone and now there’s a lot more jazz, funk and acid jazz. Dan: We also have a lot more structure; we’ve gotten less silly. Q: Where do you see What? after New Paltz? A: Ryan: We definitely want to expand past New York and see where we can go and perform at different venues. We just want to share with more audiences. Russell: We have a Google doc where we’ve compiled a list planning out what our first tour would be. Hypothetically, we’d do a loop starting in New Paltz, down to Virginia Beach, Myrtle Beach, circling up to Nashville, up to Cincinnati and then back—hitting all the big cities. We’ve done a lot of research on DIY groups and different places. Whether it be house shows or clubs, we just want to play. Alex: Ideally next summer we’ll have a small tour or a bunch of gigs so we can just get out there. Q: You just announced that you will be recording your first album, what can we expect? A: Ryan: All the classics. Old and new stuff. Dan: We just want it to be super clean and polished. Our EP was live in College Hall and didn’t do all of the tunes justice, so we’re excited to get those recorded in a studio.

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Russell: We want it to be an album that people put on and don’t skip any songs—just listen all the way through. Q: Who/what are you most influenced by? A: Dan: I think we all have such different backgrounds when it comes to the type of music that we play, so that keeps it interesting. Russell: I was in a metal band in high school. I used to listen to a lot of rock and heavy metal and then I started listening to more jazz and things like that. Jerry listens to folk so he has influence of folk in his playing. It’s great because we all get to present our ideas and we all get to interact in different ways on stage. Q: Most of you are in multiple bands. How do you handle that and what makes What? different from the other bands? A: Jerry: I think it’s important to be in multiple bands and it’s important to play as much as possible. Ryan and Russell are in another band called “The Big Takeover,” Alex and I are in a band called “Soup Outside,” and I’m also in a band called “Sass and Brass”. It’s busy but all of us love performing that much.

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Check What? out! Instagram: what_theband Email: whatthebandnp@gmail.com soundcloud.com/whatthebandnp https://whatthebandnp.bandcamp.com/releases Venmo: whatthebandnp

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Russell: This summer Ryan and I toured with The Big Takeover—a reggae and ska group. It was cool to see what that next level is where we need to get ourselves to. Playing shows in different places, doing media appearances and live streams, makes us more hungry to get to that point. It’s encouraging to see that it’s possible if we work hard. Ryan: The other bands that I’m in have a very specific sound. I’ll hear that and know the vibe that they stick to. It’s not that What? doesn’t have a sound, but I think that we’re very interested in variety and want to have a lot of contrasting pieces. Dan: I think that we have a sound, but because we all come from different backgrounds and we’ve all written songs it shows our song writing variety. We all influence each other. Q: What’s your creative process? A: Ryan: Usually we’ll come up with something on our own, we’ll share it with each other along the way, give each other critiques and then it’ll result in sheet music. From there, we play it a bunch of times and massage it into a nice spot.

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Q: How does improv play into that? A: Jerry: We all study or studied jazz at New Paltz to some degree, so that’s a lot of improv. The horns take the majority of the solos and that’s improvised. A lot of the accompaniment and the rhythm section isn’t necessarily the same each time. There’s a lot of freedom to make little changes.

Jerry: Crossroads is tight. The people who run that do a great job. They had recordings for us, a sound guy and photos afterwards. Q: What’s your favorite part about being in What?

Q: Do you have a favorite gig you’ve played so far?

A: Ryan: Getting to turn my music into something real. I’ll use preset beats on my Yamaha and come up with something and show the guys and they make it sound like real music.

A: Jerry: Any time we play at Snugs.

Q: Is there anything you want people to know about What?

Dan: There was this one night when we were playing at Snugs and it was so packed. There was this group of six guys in the front and they stuck our stickers to their foreheads. They were just losing their minds, moshing, going crazy. I’ll never forget that.

A: Dan: We’re going into the studio at the end of the month so lookout for our first album around the winter time. Stay tuned.

Russell: We get some cool crowds and we get the people dancing. It’s a lot of fun to play there.

Ryan: We really appreciate all of the support from everyone and hope they stick with us!

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Jerry: Come see us live!

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Fuel: a Poem By Katie Goldblatt

I am a fighter. In the ring, the crowd marvels at me. The underdog, the shell of steel who manages to win the battles, although she’s never the favorite. They ask, up in the stands, with their microphones and camera flashes shoved in my face: “Where’d you get the spunk, young girl, the fuel to power you? To inspire your spirit? Where did you get the fire?” I smile broadly as I answer, the truest reply that I know: “My momma.”

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By Olivia Rodriguez

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he never lets go By Jiesu

I.

he opened salvation like Siddhartha full of peace he is and we both know life is pain and the world is full of suffering but we are soft and new to this path to enlightenment and he he opened a path to freedom, a path to end to my suffering, and we thrive in our fidelity

II. he is light like a star in the heavens walking in perfect bliss; he had bound ahead of me at first but then he doubled back now he takes my hand, bright and leading, he brings a new pace one we keep together in step we shoot through the atmosphere at lightspeed

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III.

he guides me to a place of elucidation acceptance he teaches me to love and to be loved this daily hourly minutely practice he does it all so lovingly patiently except when I get sick of me and crumple like a can drowning in everything inside then

IV. he is a black hole pulling me closer weighing me down drawing me in until I am enraptured, saving me from myself showing me once again what love is

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A Burnt City of Beauty By Nicole Wasylak

You’re made of the very energy that sizzles around you Nothing can compare to the beauty of your soul--Not the pyramids, not the Stonehenge, not even the city lights That burn like fireflies in a country field. You’re beauty burns from within your soul like a wildfire, bright and unstoppable, fierce as the next sunrise But you don’t see it You see the ugly You see the cracks and dilapidation in the pyramids, The missing pieces in Stonehenge, the darkness in the city streets But like everything else, there is pure beauty inside of you

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When all else goes to hell, when the lights snap off And the bad thoughts crawl back in like cockroaches under a broken home, You are a constant And even though there may be people dying, hearts breaking, And lives changing, like the moon, people are always able To count on you to rise with the darkness

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I was ten years old when my parents wanted to move back to Manhattan. I was in the fourth grade and this news was devastating. I had always noticed when other kids moved away, whether they were my friend or not, and I remember feeling grounded and lucky because I wasn’t going to move, ever. But I was wrong. There were a lot of things I liked about living in New Jersey; like my front and back yards, last minute playdates after school, and the village in town where we’d eat pizza and buy toys. We lived there for roughly seven

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years; it had been my childhood. I wasn’t ready to be raised in the city with the dizzying streets and menacing kids; I was never ready. But my parents were set on it. It meant a better education for me. It meant I could take fifth grade in the city and climb my way up to a good high school. One that didn’t have the same kids from grade school or the crummy curriculum. One that believed in teaching science and history; I didn’t know about kinetic energy, or the American Revolution. All I knew was how to grow beans in a soda bottle and the state’s national bird. I didn’t care about

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any of that. I just wanted to finish elementary school with my friends. I wanted to play tug-of-war at Field Day with all of the other fifth graders, something I’d waited for since the first grade. The move was going to happen and I couldn’t really do anything about it. It was the summer before fifth grade and nothing much had happened. Some people in suits visited and talked with my parents about the house and I stayed in my room. Weeks went by and the house was still ours. We were still here. More weeks went by. It was cutting close, the housing market wasn’t doing too well. My parents were stressed, but I was ecstatic. Maybe we wouldn’t move after all. I could stay in my little New Jersey house and grow up with my friends and never have to worry about leaving. I could live in this house forever. We went to dinner one night, a week before school started. We were out in East Hampton at our favorite spot, where I had been going since I could eat at restaurants and my parents even longer. I mused to myself as we sat and waited for our table, the lobster buzzer in my hand (it was fish-themed), waiting for it to buzz red in anticipation. My mom and I had this game we played to pass the time, where she’d ask me when I

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thought the lobster would ring and I’d guess like some sort of fortune teller. So she asked me, “When do you think the lobster will ring?” And I said, “Very soon,” with the confidence of a ten year old. I was hauntingly right, as the lobster buzzed that very moment. Our eyes went a little haywire and my mom jumped at the opportunity: “Quick! Do you think we’re going to sell the house?” I didn’t want to say yes. I really didn’t. I wanted to say no and to have it over and done with. But I said yes, because it’s what I believed, against all the odds and my loathing. “Yes.” And that was all. We ate and thought nothing of it, really. The next day, we got the call. Someone was interested in the house. My heart dropped and my parents’ soared. We sold the house, I still live in New York City, and it ended up being the best move of my life thus far.

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By Katherine Boyle

The artist enters the room. The artist will swim through an ink of heavy waters in the space between the mountains, I hear an expanse of light; we used to see clearly in that sunlight: do not permit this reductive past to close your mind. Consider the mirror. The artist gazes the self abstracts upon recognition. The artist looks into the soil of this earth and I see the beauty in a reflection, beneath caving plaster, above the mattress. Through the mirror, you may see the artist squint into the crowds on a bridge. Do not listen to the crowds, thought they scream (beneath the edge) the clouds will flow. Long after your tears end, and the painting has dried, the artist will melt as the rest. When the radio silence spills into a void, we are concerned with measuring the stars and mapping the universe, as if you could see them (on this plane). The artist contains the stars in writing and by language, tripling signification without culture. Do not deepen meaning beyond the mountains, past those shadows – you will run out of oxygen.

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The artist enters the room through the orange burn of a body, emerging in a fear of consumption. Do not despair at the presence of yourself in your body Examine the space and listen to the words, hold hands with death as soon as you can, consider the allegories in the music. Do not reduce yourself, for on a clear Thursday afternoon there is nothing here for you. The artist should not mold herself as clay for him, or for everyone who stands in silhouette under the leaves and the sky, in dreams, and through dim reflections in the cafe windows. Please allow the artist to enter the room. I will enter the stage and not fear the clarity of recognition; in the mirror, I will expand before the jury and your eyes the color of the earth creating myself infinitely before the first slopes of the mountains. And as I walk up the steps to begin the climb, I see no silhouettes but my own under the leaves and the sky. No earthen eyes look back at me from the measurements between the stars and I see myself in the trees, the mirror, the walls. The artist exits the room.

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My best friend keeps ranting about the new hangout spot across the street from the shopping center. She said that my brother, Dan, and I should join her today. “Could you drop us off at the Playhouse?” I begged, “It’s a new place.” She looked at the pictures online of all the cool things they had: a large ball pit, a swimming pool, computers, study rooms and even an arcade. “Well, okay. It should be fine,” Mom unexpectedly approved. After breakfast, Mom dropped us off at the front entrance of The PlayHouse that Dan and I had so anxiously awaited to experience. On the outside, a poster in the front window advertised “Free Admission.” The top of the building had hundreds of colors filled with the words “PlayHouse.” We could hear laughter and joy bursting through the entrance. The black and white sofas and tiled floors added a decorative flair. Dan and I ran over to the right where they had a huge snack bar with soft pretzels, cotton candy and ice cream. Straight ahead were three different paths. Each set of glass doors opened to a new area. We chose the one labeled “Ball Pit.” A young worker, probably a college student, yelled as we walked past her to one of the ball pit rooms.

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“You don’t have to go in together,” she said. “There are lots of other rooms.” Dan joked in his insanely loud voice, “We’re twins! So we do everything together!” The perimeter of the ball pit room was gigantic, with three different ball pits, each bigger than a bathtub and as deep as a pool. There were two purple and blue slides that were long and plastic. “Cool!” We whispered. “Darlie!” A young girl shouted. “You found it!” That voice belonged to my best friend, Aubrey. We met back in second grade. It seemed like forever to us, though it had only been a few years. Aubrey took Dan and me outside. The weather was warm for early April. There were so many bouncing castles. One in particular caught my eye. It was shaped like a real castle, with pink and purple all over. There was a big river, like a moat, in front of the castle. So, we all entered from the back of the castle, except Dan. “I’m not going in that thing.” Dan yelled. “Come on!” I complained, pulling off my sneakers.

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As Aubrey and I jumped continuously with her hand in mine, all of a sudden my breath felt faintly slower and heavier. We finally let go of each other as my eyes were shifting. My vision blurred and I lost my sense of direction. Suddenly, Aubrey was gone. I fell on my hip and did an accidental somersault, bouncing off one last time. As I flipped upside down, the entire bouncy castle turned over with me. I could feel the bottom of the castle sticking to my thigh as I tumbled. Splash! The castle and I collapsed in the water. I felt the castle sinking and desperately tried to stay afloat. “I have to get out of here!” I kept jumping, trying to find the top of the castle, but I made the castle sink more. I grabbed the top part of the castle and held on tight, even as my hands were getting pruney and sweaty. I clenched my fist and punched a thin membrane of the castle. Somehow, I was able to escape and I swam out. I arrived back on the land. I turned around and watched the castle deflate, sinking even deeper into the water. An image popped into my head. I looked at my red hand, the one that I held on with Aubrey’s. Then, I realized she was probably still inside. “Aubrey!” I screamed out. There was no answer. I ran back into the Playhouse, a two-minute jog away. When I finally got there, I saw Aubrey’s older sister.

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I yelled and screamed her name. “Aubrey needs help! She’s stuck in the castle!” With that, she darted out, put back on her sneakers and ran for the water. “Darlie, stay here with Emma!” Emma looked a little worried, so I tried to cheer her up. “What do you want to do?” I asked her. “Music!” She happily grabbed my hand and took me to a room I had yet to explore. This room was the most interesting. There were big toy musical instruments. Big guitars, drums and a piano. There was also a large piano on the floor that, when you step on a key, played a note. Emma jumped from key to key. Suddenly, there was a little girl tapping harshly on the door. “Help!” cried the little girl. I ran out and asked her why she needed help. “Dan! He’s stuck!” She grabbed me by my finger and took me to a new room. He was probably exploring there while I got stuck in the inflatable castle. In this room, labeled “Jungle Gym,” there were trampolines, a basketball court and a few rock climbing walls. My brother dangled by only a harness up in the air.

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I ran to find an employee. I ran into a heavy-set man named Joe. “Come to the Jungle Gym. My brother’s stuck in a harness up in the air.” He ran with me to where my brother was all alone. Joe was about to climb the ladder to fix one of the strings, but it was too late. Dan fell over fifty feet as the harness broke away from his tiny, skinny body. He landed on his head and lay unresponsive. “Dan!” I ran to him and checked his breathing. There was none. Blood came from the right side of his head. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I couldn’t imagine my life without him. But my worst nightmare came true when Aubrey’s sister came back. “Oh my God!” She screamed. I cried, “He was stuck...he thought he would land!” She hugged me so tight for a long time. Her eyes were flooding with her running mascara. She took me to a bench in the next room - an empty, silent study lounge. I realized that Aubrey wasn’t with her. “Where’s Aubrey?”

A man approached us in a white polo. He had glasses and big, bulky shoulders. “Ms. McMillan,” he affirmed. “We have another kid.” It was Emma. She had been stomping on the piano with her feet, turns out the piano broke, causing her to fall. She had hit her head. Aubrey’s sister told me to stay where I was since they had no idea if the little girl would regain consciousness. All I knew was I had to get out of that place. I had to sit bored with nothing but my iPad. It was only on 20%. What was the point, so I avoided using it unless I was extremely desperate. Finally, a woman came into the Playhouse. It was my mother. Does she know? What would I tell her? I just kept my head down, hoping she wouldn’t see me and recognize my curly, black hair. Her hand clung to my shoulder. I looked up at her face, which looked misshapen. Her eyes were in a squint and turned glossy from her grief. “I knew not to touch anything. I wanted to spare you a loss. I hated being bored here, but I had to do it...for my brother.”

She turned her head away and hugged me again. Her silence was killing me. But then I realized that Aubrey was probably dead too. When someone doesn’t answer you, it most likely means “no.” “My best friend is gone?” I screamed, pushing her sister away from me. She nodded and gripped my small hand in hers.

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By Collin Battersby

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By George Catechis

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By Laura Thompson

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Summer Camp By Michelle Nedboy

They would take us to a beach. I say “a beach” because it most certainly wasn’t the beach; it was sheltered off, in a kinda thorny area, with dirty bushes and hiccups of sand, lots of shells. We took a muppety school bus there, our bathing suits on and our towels crumpled in our laps. We must’ve been a range of ages; my baby friends and I, the older kids, the older kids, and the usual counselors. I don’t remember most of the kids, just my gang and a few of the older girls who seemed to look after me, in a way. They were sixteen, I was six. They taught me how to chew and blow gum. They gave me one of their pieces of Trident which, if you’re familiar, does not make for good bubbles. A six-year-old, with cheek muscles as soft and unused as new tennis balls, was not going to get anywhere with Trident mint gum. I begged and begged for a second piece, to make something worthwhile happen, though I don’t think I ever got it. I was chewing and sputtering with my single piece,

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my teeth and lips struggling with the hard wad, until it flew from my mouth and into the sand. The specks of sand clung to it, it was bedazzled, ruined. I popped it back into my mouth. Well, I didn’t, but I almost did. One of the girls, the younger, shorter sister, fifteen, caught me picking it up. I was preparing myself for the crunchy sensation when she told me to toss it. My plans, foiled. I was bored of gum, I bounded off to

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wards my kiddie group. They were building a muddy sand castle, with a moat tailing around it, and in our unspoken kid language I joined them and went to work. Our nails were crusted with sand bits, the places we bit and chewed at stung from the stuff. We squatted, our toes pointed outwards and our knees close to our chins. We looked and sounded like birds, fixing and expanding, wary of any of the older kids who might come over and threaten our creation’s life. We were OK. Our blob was shaping into a bigger, more refined blob, the moat was sloppy and burying itself back up but we were quick as we scooped its mucky guts out. Our main concern were the waves. They were relentless, running in and eating up our work. We positioned ourselves to stand (squat) in-between the castle and the waves, our backs stuck out towards the water, and blocked most of the oncoming damage.

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Some water, plenty of it, still crept between our feet, which acted like gates. Our castle was still in danger. Someone squeaked and had us all look out into the sea—a giant, rust-colored boat made its ways across the water. It looked like a moving building, a cloud, a tank. We scrambled, the voice verged on panic as it exclaimed how the building-boat would create BIGGER waves, and we certainly couldn’t afford that, not now. The voices grew in number, as each of us hurried and told each other to “go faster!” and “dig dig dig!!” It was the only thing that mattered. The boat moved painfully slow, and at times it looked completely still as the waves blurred it out. We didn’t know how much time we had. It didn’t create any bigger waves.

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Justin Rampert-Search Lights

Justin Rampert-Rustic Feel

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By Collin Battersby

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Your Mansion By Bethelihem Gebresilasie

You just let me turn the knob on your front tooth and I slid down your tongue. There was light in there which I didn’t expect. I look forward and realized you had lampshades on your tonsil stones. I found it endearing and slightly whimsical. I thought, “I should do the same thing.” I pressed one of your cavities that was blinking bright yellow, and waited for the elevator to arrive. It was comfortable, a cozy mansion, which feels like an oxymoron. I wanted to start at your lungs and hike to your intestines. Is it a weird tradition that I get to explore your eternal abode, the body that I will never know but will know better than most? Is that what marriage is? Ultimately, no matter how close I get to your body, or in your body, I will never be close enough. I know the marriage counselor recommended this so that we truly know each other, but you’ve had this house longer than I’ve known you, and you’ve learned to hide your secrets in ventricles and caves you’ve craftedly obscured. The elevator arrives; it has pulsating veins, transparent, and mesmerizing. Your blood flows really fast I’ve noticed, and I make a note to tell your doctor. The elevator is slow, and has no buttons. I was confused, and it felt purposeful. You didn’t want to be known, and anyone who dares won’t be given directions. The doors pulse open and I see your anus. You want me out. A mansion is always cold, I shouldn’t have expected otherwise.

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Enemies, foreign and domestic By Emily Fego

Sir, What motivates you To get out of bed And raise your flag without fear of retribution? To march with a torch gripped in white knuckles, To tear through linked arms, To decorate your clothing with two eights, Belching hate disguised as activism. You, sir, with your lips Glazed in a layer of cheap whiskey Coiled as if only to Block the excrement from seeping Through your yellowed teeth.

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You, sir, always wear your hood Even when it is not draped over your head To conceal your face. You, sir, denounce diversity, Deem equality as mere myth, And fragmentation as inevitable. You, sir, when given the choice between Redistribution or genocide — You, sir, when given the choice between Love and hate — You are no sir, no American, no patriot — In fact, you are no man at all. We ask you to remove your hood, Lower your flag And stay in bed. Kindly, America.

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I’ve never wished for anything. To say I’d rather return to my childhood and slip away from this callous life, this life that leaves me nauseated and helpless, heaving in the middle of the night. Like an ill creature, heaving and gasping from the vivid nightmares that poison my thoughts, and the hourly obsessions that are my thoughts.

To say I’d rather experience rebirth than the spiraling guilt I feel from those who’ve died because of me and because of my curse would be one insidious lie.

I’ve been guilty all my life from the day I hatched, upsetting my mother and father with my sex and appearance. They wanted male they got female. They wanted peaches and cream they got green.

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To grow up simply because they decided

For killing my sister and for

it was right.

marching around in her shoes.

Is that not the worst curse of them all?

My shoes.

What was I spared?

Like some kind of warrior

From the mixed stares

showing off her kill,

as my own father compared me to demons, they drip in red from her blood. my skin a sign of something evil.

They yearn for their true owner.

I was just a girl. I’ve never wished for anything, The nicer ones pitied me

except for what’s rightfully mine.

I didn’t need their pity.

I was once called “Elphaba the Delirious,”

In my endless quest to become the perfect daughter, do I thank my father for making me stronger? Or do I resent him for what he did to me? It doesn’t matter now. He’s dead. I blame myself.

And soon I’ll be dead too,

but I don’t feel guilty. I feel fine. Haven’t I earned it? I feel fine. They’re coming to kill me. I feel fine.

Elphaba

if I can help it. Murdered—by a girl! They say she’s sweet. They say she’s as sweet and fairy-like as morning dew. I think it’s sickly. Justice is due.

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Lemons By Samantha Hughes

They say When life gives you lemons Make lemonade I say When life gives you lemons Cut them in halves And eat them Whole I say Do not wait for them to sweeten Eat them sour and bitter With your fist clenched your eyes shut a lemon juice dripping down your forearm

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What I Know By Skylar Coons

Tenacity is vibrant, finding strength to move on. Ignore the voices in my head, it’s OK to be strong. Strength is measured by the steps I can take, to carry through the hardships and learn to accept mistakes. Mistakes are human there is no way around them. The more mistakes I make, the easier it is to get up off the ground. Falling can be cataclysmic but I can’t feel the pain. As long as I am human I can learn to get back up again.

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By Marissa Lucchese

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Boundless By Taylor Dinardo

I will hold onto you even when my center of gravity disappears and I myself have no ground.

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By Alice Rojas

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Crossroads By Alyssa Detwiler

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Wings of Willpower By Pamela Loperena

With the strength of every new heartbeat tugging her dreams forward, she blazes through life’s obstacles, that many believed were impossible— faster than any peregrine falcon can fly. As a chariot rising above the clouds, come hell or high water, she’s not the type to sit back or relax, when the world is ready to collapse, and doomsday draws dusk nearer. Wearing her scars, like armor, right into battle, she’s prepared to fight the darkest of demons, even if their demeaning words injure her feelings; her soul’s too determined to rupture the glass ceiling, leaving nothing but dust and glory trembling behind.

art by Pamela Loperena

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By Collin Battersby

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By Marissa Lucchese

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Onward and Upward By Mia Paquin

1 foot, 2 feet, 3… Persist. Push through. Have determination. You’ve got this! I sit. I stare. I think. I can’t move. (silence) I stir. I shake. I fidget. I can’t stay still. 4 feet, 5… Up to the chin in water. The tree stands tall against the rain. You can do this. Be the tree. But the water keeps coming Rain, rain go away And now I’m five feet under. Swimming upwards, but not breaking the surface Sit, Stare, Think, Stir, Shake, Fidget Do Something! And now I’m going toward the light.

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A personal essay By Sophie Herrmann

The outing club on campus is marvelous; I highly recommend it. That was my plug. I’m done and I’m proud. During the month of March, actually Lepre-con weekend, I signed up to go ice climbing somewhere in the mountains. Saturday came and I woke up promptly at 5:45, to get to the atrium at 6 a.m. sharp. I was super excited to do this crazy thing, but I distinctly remember feeling dread in my stomach and thinking about how tempting it would be to just stay in my deliciously cozy bed-cocoon. Alas, I did indeed make it to the meeting spot (and I have to say, I was rather underdressed). I wore my sky blue nano puff Patagonia jacket. Let me tell you something: the outing club people, they know their puff. Like seriously the puff, the nano puff, it’s pretty hot stuff. I got a “Nice puff,” to which I said “Thanks.” We hopped in cars and drove to the Rock and Snow parking lot to meet our mountain guide for the day. We pulled up next to a van, out of which emerged the coolest mountain dude I had ever seen. He had a graying ponytail, was very tan for winter and called everyone “man.” His name was Doug Man. We followed Doug to our site in the mountains. Doug Man drove fast. When we arrived at the base of the climb spot, Doug Man got out, looked us all up and down and said that we were not prepared. Sh*t– I was bundled too! Then he instructed us to put on these things that looked like the inside of a rollerblade over our boots. They were like the part you can take out and can wear as a strange shoe. So, we strapped on crampons and special boots. I remember thinking, “I really have to pee.” I asked Doug if I could go in the snow bank over there. He said, “Excellent,” I said “Great.” Check. To get to the climb spot we needed to hike up the base of the mountain. My calves felt like someone was pushing their thumb into the very fibers of my calf souls as we were going up, and I thought we had reached the end. I was getting very cold and panic was setting in because walking up a mountain of ice and snow with crampons is awesome but stressful… but still awesome.

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Everyone else in the group seemed calm so I proceeded in being calm. Our spot was glorious. The parts we actually climbed were large cascades of ice that were nestled into the sides of a cliff. They were massive and beautiful. Also, as a side note, were highly reflective. I got a sunburn that day. Once Doug had successfully lead us up the mountain, we were then given instructions on how to ice climb. The key is to get a great hold with your picks which are pretty heavy for a person with rather meager arms. You hold the pick firmly, drop it back behind you, inline with your shoulder and eye a spot that you like. Then, with gusto, you thrust the pick into the solid ice. Check. Next, your feet. You have big pointy spikes strapped to them called crampons and these basically assist you in successfully defying gravity and yoinking yourself up the mountain side. There are spikes on the soles but the big daddios are in front. The mountain felt like stairs. You would just pick up your toes and plant then into the next step as forcefully as possible. Super fun, but super exhausting, man.

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You are also wearing a harness and have to be belayed by someone; we all had helmets too. I climbed twice. I started with the least steep route, but there were people in the group who did these crazy climbs that just really went straight up. The feeling of literally climbing an icicle is amazing. The feeling after you have conquered that ice dagger, then belayed down and look at what you just climbed is just as spectacular. Doug Man was my belayer. He called me Soph and really helped me out with where to place the picks. Not surprisingly, he is a huge Dead and Phish head. That morning he told us that he went for a run at 3 a.m. We were all doing well and feeling good. I was watching my friend do a run when she came down and said “I think I chipped my tooth with my pick!” She definitely chipped her tooth– the front one, too! It was glorious. I told her at least it was a worthy endeavor. Like, one of the worthiest. I highly recommend this experience if you are able to go. I also highly recommend the Phoenicia diner; excellent frittatas.

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dodie: A Damn Good Time By Katherine Goldblatt

Buying last-minute tickets to dodie’s concert at Terminal 5 in New York City has to be one of the best impulsive decisions I have ever made. The singer, famous from her YouTube channel doddleoddle, put on one of the best concerts I have ever been to. Playing a variety of old tunes and newer hits, she managed to captivate the venue. The atmosphere was chill. There was no pushing to get a better view in the general admission pit; everyone was just enraptured by the performance. It was a magical experience, and I am glad I went.

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Mountain Run By Diana Testa

My tired eyes fixate on the morning Mountains— glowing purple and peach rock. Nine miles of unsteady breathing Has me wishing this run was a tranquil walk.

My aching legs meet rolling hills That appear to bring me closer to the peak. I push on though my body craves to be still— I cannot let the mountains know I’m weak.

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I only remember that I was falling. It was a strange sensation, falling thousands of leagues in stars, the only one I can recall. I was void of any emotion or feeling; I simply knew I was in existence. It was a gentle fall, as if some unknown force was carrying me as a child who’d fallen asleep outside the nursery. The white-hot, supermassive stars were so close that they singed the tips of my bedhead. Glancing forward, I saw my own reflection, then the reflection of

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the stars around me. I pondered how this could be. A thin, glass wall separated the atmosphere and the vacuum of space, delicately balanced between. Detached from my emotions, I fleetingly feared passing through, yet I could not stop. The moon smiled as my body passed through, tearing the unseen tapestry. Instantly, my body picked up momentum, careening toward Earth below. A rush of emotions hit me presently: panic, fear, confusion. Freezing rain beat against my face as I plunged past monstrous clouds. I was in the middle of a powerful tempest. The harsh night wind drowned out my screams. An acute sense of doom twisted my heart as the storm swirled around me. Every part of my body ached, inside and out. I felt that I could faint at any moment. My nightclothes could do nothing to protect me from the intense cold that gripped my very soul. I now understand what a lake feels when winter claims its soul each year: frozen, helpless, subjected. Lightning crackled as the dark sea beckoned me into her sadistic depths. I looked to her as she pulled me toward her wicked waters. She cackled, savouring the

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moments leading to my unavoidable death. Sobbing, I gasped for air ten, five, two leagues from her ravenous surface. I braced myself. Surely, I would die here.

How was I not completely obliterated, instead sat here alive, half-drowned and unharmed? Somehow, by fluke or fate, I was still breathing.

The starving sea gobbled me up like a greedy child, salt flooding my senses. Somebody cried from above,

A huge hand grabbed my shoulder, shaking me. I jumped, realizing now that there was a man kneeling beside me, trying to get my attention. Raindrops nested in his long, grey beard. A faded scar traced his temple, pale against weathered skin. He spoke, but I could not hear him over the ringing in my ears.

‘Man overboard!’

Just then, a towering wave smashed over the adjacent side of the ship. “Port side!,” the grey man shouted as he jumped into action. The other men followed suit.

As I sank beneath her thrashing waters, I was left without feeling once again. I saw black, losing all consciousness. I woke, the stench of salt pungent in my nose; I retched, choking up seawater. My vision cut back in. I saw gruff men opening their mouths emphatically, trying to have themselves heard over the madness of her waves. Through flashes of lightning, I watched saturated wooden crates slide across the rain-soaked deck. Dense ropes holding hoisted sails shook in the gale. The boat was in fact a large ship, groaning in protest of the sea’s great tantrum.

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Loud Devon’s accent squawked over the wind as the crew got to work, scooping water out of their ship. Bucketful after bucketful of salt water was splashed out of the ship with hurried panic. The more water that was tossed out, the more came back in. The sea had such vengeance, a score to settle. “Ger over thar!” “Buckets!” “Wave!” “Ger yer britches movin’, Larry!” “Whar is tha’ Captn’?” “Me cigars be gone!” “Oy! Stop whinin’ and ger goin’!” Forcing myself to be rational, I scanned the deck for somewhere safe to hide. I feared going below deck, as I dreaded the idea of being farther from the surface of her Majesty the Sea. I attempted to stand, but found myself paralysed. I began to weep again, terrified. When I looked up again, I found myself behind a pile of barrels, unsure of how I got there. The rocking of the ship made me sick again, expelling more seawater. The stench of the salt forced me to bury my face in my arms. I pulled my knees to my chest. I dared not look up.

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Art by: Sophie Herrmann

Playlist by: Gabrielle Vvultaggio


By Morgan Hughes

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Libra (Sept 23 - Oct 22) Happy birthday Libra! This month, it’s time to celebrate. You have been working hard and you deserve all of the recognition and success coming your way. It’s been a long few months for you, so take the time to reflect and pat yourself on the back for all of the progress you have made. Don’t sell yourself short!

Scorpio (Oct 23 - Nov 22)

Sagittarius (Nov 23 - Dec 21)

Capricorn (Dec 22 - Jan 19)

This month is all about bonds for you. Whether it be with a coworker, new partner, or best friend, letting someone into your life will require attention and care. Sometimes it is hard for you to let new people in but you are presented with the perfect opportunity to do so. Let your guard down a little bit, it will only pay off in the long run. Surround yourself with only people who will care for these new figures in your life as much as you do.

Try something new this month! The changing of the seasons is a good time to experiment, so try to find time to switch up your usual routine. You love to try new things, and there is no better time to do so! Don’t be afraid to say “yes” to anything and everything, even if those things are outside of your comfort zone. You will create some of the best memories of your life this month as long as you allow yourself to do so!

Ambition is your best friend this month. Set a goal and stick to it, and create a schedule or a game plan to ensure success in your new endeavor. At times, you may have had a hard time sticking to your plans, but not this time! This month is not for laziness or excuses. Dream big!

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Aquarius (Jan 20 - Feb 18)

Pisces (Feb 19 - Mar 19)

Aries (Mar 20 - April 19)

Do not feel bad about speaking up for what you believe in. Your needs are valid and deserve to be heard! Even when it is difficult to stand up for yourself, use all of the courage you have and make a stand! There is nothing wrong with advocating for what you want and need in your life right now. In fact, doing so now will greatly benefit you in the long run.

Step back and take a look at all of your relationships. Dig deep! Think of your more personal relationships such as a significant other and at the same time consider relationships you have with coworkers. Consider how they make you feel and how each of them impacts your life. Use this information to cultivate and grow the relationships that are beneficial and inspiring to you!

This is a social month for you! Don’t be scared to loosen up and be more outgoing than usual. You are known for your big personality. This is the perfect time to let it shine! Don’t get carried away, but you definitely deserve all of the goodness coming your way. Go make some memories!

Taurus (April 20 - May 20)

Gemini (May 21 - June 20)

Cancer (June 21 - July 22)

Use this month to get to know yourself better! Listen to new music, try different foods and drinks. Spend some time alone. You are in for an awakening! This doesn’t mean you have to isolate yourself from friends and family, but definitely set aside some days to do some self-discovery. You will be pleased with the results!

It can be easy to set your expectations high and anticipate the future, but don’t forget to live in the moment once in a while. This may be something you feel you have always struggled with so try to put this on the forefront for once! Focus less on planning and overthinking what you have to do this month, and embrace the spontaneity life has to offer. Nothing is really that deep, so go with the flow!

Take advantage of all the opportunities coming your way this month, and don’t be afraid to put yourself first if that’s what it takes to get what you want. After all, this is your life and only you are in charge of your future. Be confident and unapologetic!

Leo (July 23 - Aug 22)

Virgo (Aug 23 - Sept 22)

You have an intense month ahead of you! Whether it be a vacation, job interview or big project for school coming up, dive into it with a positive attitude and solid plan. Spend a little extra time looking at the big picture to make sure you are going to be truly happy with the results of all your hard work! You are more than capable of making your dreams come true, so put in the hard work now and reap the benefits later!

Stay focused this month and keep your eyes open. You may feel that you are putting too much effort into a certain relationship so take the time to really evaluate these thoughts and feelings. Some big news may be coming your way! Try to not get distracted by negative thoughts, keep up with the hard work and passion. It is all about to pay off very soon!

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