Five Columbians talk about their Indigenous identities at a time when many institutions seem to prefer they’d disappear. PAGE 12
MIZZOU’S GHOST BUILDING PAGE 5
LOST AND FOUND SOUNDS PAGE 9
BERRY GOOD SUMMER BITES PAGE 21
FROM FOSTER TO FUR-EVER PAGE 25
Idon’t usually write these. But with most students away for the summer at internships or traveling, we’re left with a lean crew. So, to talk about our July/ August issue, you get me. (Waves from the bottom of the staff list.)
I’ve been the editorial director of Vox since 2013, when I moved to Columbia with my family. It’s my second time living here — the first was as a student in the 1990s at the university where I now teach. A lot changed about CoMo in those intervening decades. Change is part of this college town’s DNA as a huge swathe of its residents stream in and out on four-year cycles. But what if we see that ever-shifting nature is a feature not a bug?
Part of my job is reading story pitches from journalism students. Invariably, a crop of similar ideas come up semester after semester. Did you know there’s a thriving farmers’ market here? Have you seen the wetlands of Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area? Did you know Orr Street First Fridays are so cool? Yes, yes and yes. The students’ enthusiasm for the many
Correction: The names of Rufus
facets that make Columbia a vibrant place to live serves as a reminder to us “townies” to appreciate those very things. What magic to see the aspects we’ve gotten used to through the fresh eyes of a newcomer.
We aim for that magic of discovery with the stories in Vox. While we celebrate the tried-andtrues that make this city home (like the blueberry options in our guide on p. 21) we also share people, places and projects that you might not know about. Meet Justin Nardy (p. 9) who gives life to unreleased music from small, often local, bands. Dig into the community of dedicated dog lovers who open their homes by fostering (p. 25). Or learn the history of the now-demolished Read Hall (p. 5), which was the first women’s dormitory on the MU campus in 1903.
Look, I’m like anyone in that I don’t love when the ebbs and flows of time mean some of my favorite places from my college years disappear (RIP Campus Twin Theatre). But something new is constantly emerging in this city. And that change truly is part of what makes our hometown special.
Heather Isherwood Editorial director
“Indigenous and Invisible” (p. 12) is part of a semester-long project focused on Indigenous history and identity in Missouri. Our reporting team investigated various topics for Vox, the Missourian and KBIA, including the Indigenous lands the University of Missouri has profited from and the work of MU’s Indigenous Affairs Task Force. In my reporting with Madelyn Bonkoski for Vox, we aimed to demonstrate that being Indigenous is not a monolithic experience, nor should it be invisible. At a time when diversity is increasingly marginalized, we felt it essential to share the stories of a community (including Gwen Blevins and McKenzie Ortiz, at left) that often is underreported and misrepresented. We hope this project provides perspective and nuance to the narrative surrounding Indigenous people in Missouri. — Grace Burwell
Sr. and Scotty Williams were incorrect in the June issue.
EDITOR-IN-CHIEF OLIVIA MAILLET
MANAGING EDITORS GRACE BURWELL, AVERI NORRIS, CAYLI YANAGIDA
DEPUTY EDITOR ABIGAIL RAMIREZ
DIGITAL MANAGING EDITORS
BRIANNA DAVIS , MJ MONTGOMERY
AUDIENCE ENGAGEMENT EDITOR ALEX XU
ART DIRECTORS VALERIE TISCARENO, LAUREN GREEN
PHOTO DIRECTOR ASHLEE KLOTZBUECHER
MULTIMEDIA EDITOR KATE RAMSEYER
SENIOR DIGITAL PRODUCER SARAH GASSEL
ASSISTANT PHOTO EDITOR EMMA RAE GERWEN
CONTENT STRATEGIST KALYN LAIRE
ASSOCIATE EDITORS LEVI CASE, HAVEN DAGER, KIANA FERNANDES, SARAH GOODSON, NAOMI M. KLEIN, DINA MURRAY, AVERI NORRIS, AVA ORR, ASHLYNN PEREZ, NATALIE-ELIZABETH TAN, YINAN WU
STAFF WRITERS MERCY AUSTIN, ALEX DAGGETT, AUSTIN GARZA, KATIE GRAWITCH, SYD MINOR, ALLY SCHNIEPP, EMMA ZAWACKI, SOPHIE AYERS, ALLI BEALMER, LAURYN RHODES, NEALY SIMMS, RAPHAEL STERNADORI, TYLER WHITE
SOCIAL & AUDIENCE ZOE SALEEM, CLAIRE WILLIAMS
DIGITAL PRODUCERS CHARLIE DAHLGREN, ABIGAIL LANDWEHR, CHARLIE WARNER
DESIGN ASSISTANTS LILY CARROLL, RACHEL GOODBEE, SOPHIA LINDBERG
CONTRIBUTING WRITERS BRIANNA DAVIS, MAYA DAWSON, AUDREY ELLIS, JASMINE JACKSON, SOPHIA KOCH, OLIVIA MAHL, DAVIS WILSON
CONTRIBUTING PRODUCERS JARED ARCHER, ARABELLA COSGROVE, ETHAN DAVIS
EDITORIAL DIRECTOR HEATHER ISHERWOOD
DIGITAL DIRECTOR LAURA HECK
WRITING COACHES CARY LITTLEJOHN, JENNIFER ROWE
FOLLOW US
Vox Magazine @VoxMag @VoxMagazine @VoxMagazine
WANT TO BE IN-THE-KNOW?
Sign up to receive Vox ’s weekly newsletter, the “Vox Insider.” We’ll tell you how to fill up your weekend social calendar and keep ahead of the trends. Sign up at voxmagazine.com.
CALENDAR send to vox@missouri.edu or submit via online form at voxmagazine.com
ADVERTISING 882-5714 | CIRCULATION 882-5700 | EDITORIAL 884-6432
JULY/AUGUST 2025
VOLUME 27, ISSUE 6
PUBLISHED BY THE COLUMBIA MISSOURIAN LEE HILLS HALL, COLUMBIA MO 65211
Cover design: Lauren Green
Cover photography: Jessie Zhao, Devon Bidjou/ Archive and courtesy of Dennis Kelley
Students and alumni preserve stories of Read Hall, a building vital to MU history.
From Pride events to live concerts,Vox has your must-do list for the summer.
Lost songs get a spin
Your favorite local bands return for an encore through Expert Work Records.
At Compass Inc., music teachers and students battle against sameness.
Five Columbians discuss their Indigenous identities at a time when diversity and Indigeniety is being erased or ignored.
Local eateries bake, blend and boil blueberries for summertime treats.
Kaged Heat founders swirl sweet and spicy in their line of hot sauces.
Find Taiwanese classics and bento boxes at Double Wood Taiwanese Kitchen.
Want to help foster dogs? Our FAQ will set your tail wagging.
With oil, watercolor and canvas, two sisters commemorate your happiest day.
MU students and alumni recreate Read Hall’s past as a women’s dormitory, field hospital and student union.
BY MERCY AUSTIN
In the empty space between Gentry Hall and McKee Gymnasium at the University of Missouri — now filled by lawns and sidewalks — once sat a gothic-style white building that served many roles across its 119 years of life.
Read Hall was MU’s first women’s residence hall and played a crucial role in allowing women to attend the university. It later served as a women’s influenza ward, a student union and as a home to multiple student publications and organizations. Despite students fighting for Read Hall to be preserved as a historic landmark, the building was demolished in 2022 as a part of the university’s Space Reduction and Strate-
Members of the “Layered” project honored Read Hall’s legacy through an art installation on April 10. Lance Moore (left) and their mother Tina Mitchell Lance, who is a volunteer with the project, helped set up the projector screens, which served as windows to connect with the history of women’s experiences at MU.
gic Relocation Plan. At the time, it was the headquarters of MU’s history department. Now, three years later, students and alumni are using virtual reality, art and design to bring the building back to life.
MU education major Lani Redecker co-designed a zine that used graphics and photography to memorialize the Read Hall’s role as a safe space for students. “It’s not just a building,” Redecker says. “It’s a community within it, and all the people who have lived their lives and told their stories in that building.”
Redecker and the five other students creating this are part of an honors research program called the Art of Death. Their
project, “Layered,” looks at Read Hall in the context of larger research about the cultural side of loss and memorialization.
Over the course of a year, project members created an exhibit in the empty space that honors the building. They designed wooden frames and makeshift windows, recreating the basic architecture and projected images of notable women from MU’s history onto the windows. Virtual reality created visual renderings of the hall, and the students used photos and graphics to explore deeper philosophical questions. For instance, what does it mean to be a woman at MU? To make space for yourself, to grieve and to find your voice?
For them, Read Hall is a space to explore those questions.
“This significant building existed as a scrapbook of women’s experiences at the University,” the zine reads. “Although Read Hall does not exist anymore, we hope to memorialize it and pay respect to the women who once walked on this campus.”
On a cloudy, drizzling night in early April, the building’s memory was briefly alive again.
Opening the exhibit were four sculptures: a fist, a growing sprout, a masked face and a rocking chair. These four symbols don’t just tell the story of a building, but also the story of more than a century of female memory — of women finding their homes and paths in Columbia, Missouri, again and again.
Although women were first admitted to MU’s campus in 1867, it would be another 36 years before they had a space to live. The university’s dormitories only had spaces for men, and women couldn’t rent an apartment alone in Columbia. To attend MU, they would need to either live nearby or take up a job as a housekeeper.
Read Hall’s construction changed that. Women lived in the dorm from 1903 to 1940, and it was later joined by a second dorm, its neighbor, Gentry Hall.
The “Layered” project merged history with the present during a virtual reality art installation. Some of the projected slides featured past residents of Read Hall and other women whose stories are tied to MU. To find out more about the project, visit ashreadhall. wordpress.com/ about.
“ALTHOUGH READ HALL DOES NOT EXIST ANYMORE, WE HOPE TO MEMORIALIZE IT AND PAY RESPECT TO THE WOMEN WHO ONCE WALKED ON THIS CAMPUS.”
Zine from the “Layered” project
“It stopped that barrier to entry,” says Reese Betts, an MU alum who helped lead research on the project. “When it was accessible as a dorm for women, so many women wanted to come to the university.”
Conversations about female identity and legacies of inclusion and exclusion were a point of connection among the “Layered” team, all of whom identify with the female experience. Several students said that working on the project over the past year has caused them to rethink the idea of safe spaces on a college campus.
“Even things like going into (Ellis) Library and seeing these statues of men everywhere, and then the few statues of women don’t have heads; it’s only their bodies,” Redecker says. “All of those little things that you wouldn’t think really mean something started to feel like, actually, maybe this does have meaning.”
Still, that legacy of access was complicated. At $5 a week, Read Hall was the site of numerous protests in the early 20th century for its lack of affordability. “It is impossible for a poor girl to live there, and it’s made living all over town higher,” the St. Louis Post-Dispatch reported in 1905.
Additionally, women of color never lived in Read Hall. The first Black students weren’t enrolled at MU until 1950 — 10 years after the hall’s time as a dormitory had ended.
With the exhibition, the students tried to memorialize the legacies of not just the women who lived in the building and had access to it, but also those who didn’t. One
woman featured in the illustration was Lucile Bluford, who was denied entrance to MU’s journalism school in 1939 based on her race. Today, a dorm on campus is named after her. Although she was never allowed to live in Read Hall, the team commemorated her in both the zine and the exhibition.
In 1918, the influenza epidemic surged across the country. Columbia’s Board of Health closed all K-12 schools and pro hibited public gatherings. The university contin ually instituted and lifted quarantine restrictions to balance economic and medical crises.
The school converted Read Hall into a women’s field hospital for about a year to combat the epidemic. The Savitar, MU’s yearbook, reported that the demand for nurses far exceeded the labor force, and, as a result, more than 100 women took up jobs as nurses’ aides and telephone operators. University physicians treated more than 1,000 influenza patients, who represented about 7% of the city and student population in the area, according to an article by former MU doctoral student Kris Lawson.
“Much credit is due to the girls who answered this call to service and in this way helped save the lives of fellow students,” the 1919 Savitar reads. Authorities reported that no women died of the flu at the university.
For the “Layered” team, who represented this period through an embroidered mask, it is a continuation of a legacy of safety and care at Read Hall.
The next, and longest, chapter of Read Hall’s story is 80 years of voices, stories and protests. In 1940, Read Hall was converted into MU’s student union. The building was the center of extracurricular activities on campus, housing 11 student groups and the dean of students. It was also a bustling hub for student media, as MU’s yearbook, student newspaper and radio station were all housed in the building.
A 1951 edition of the magazine reported that the Read Hall of this era had an “intimate, informal and friendly air which makes students feel
Archival material about the hall tells a mosaic of stories from this period. An art room on the third floor was a known makeout spot for queer students. Eight people who frequented the room later faced disciplinary action from the university for “homosexual activity” in the ’50s, when MU severely cracked down on suspected gay and lesbian students.
During the Vietnam War, a student organization called the Peace Coalition, which led economic boycotts and anti-war protests, was headquartered in Read Hall. In the building, students drafted petitions, wrote letters to elected officials and set up peace workshops.
The dean of students at the time, Jack Matthews, was also based in Read Hall. Matthews responded to anti-war protests
by banning gatherings of three or more people on campus.
On Feb. 12, 1970, a large crowd of students staged a takeover of Read Hall, calling it “a symbol of the university’s power to coerce students into behaving themselves,” the 1970 Savitar reports.
The group traveled from the Student Center, then called Brady Commons, and flooded into the hall. Police arrested five demonstrators during the incident.
The Savitar tells a story from that day of Steve Fuchs, a student protester, coming head-to-head with the dean. “There was that beautiful scene with Matthews and Fuchs, up against the wall, as it were, one exhorting the crowd to enter the building and the other begging them to leave while the crowd stood in the middle of a blizzard, freezing.”
The history department moved into Read Hall in the early 1980s and remained there until its demolition.
Student activism to preserve the building is the final chapter in the story of student protest at Read Hall.
After MU announced its plans to de-
What about other ghost buildings in Columbia? Sharp End, the city’s Black business district, was torn down by a federal government project in the ‘50s. Chef and entrepreneur Annie Fisher’s mansion was demolished despite community opposition. Hundreds of families lost their homes and businesses due to federal urban renewal projects. Could those places, too, be memorialized through projections, virtual reality, art pieces and zines?
molish the building in 2021, over 3,000 students signed a petition for its preservation. Despite protests and rallies, the university moved forward with the demolition in June 2022.
Today, nothing has been built in its place. The only remnant of Read Hall is a plaque on a bench. It is an empty space — a relic of what was.
But the exhibition ends on the point of hope: a sapling growing out of the ground. The “Layered” project is an effort to resurrect the hall’s legacy from one of demolition to one of re membrance and hope, a nod to the safe spaces that women find on campus and the resistance move ments that transcend brick and mortar. Some spaces can never be recovered. But memories can still be found in the gaps between, and new life can always grow out of loss.
Each month, Vox curates a list of can’t-miss shops, eats, reads and experiences. We find the new, trending or underrated to help you enjoy the best our city has to offer.
BY AVERI NORRIS
A Journey Through Communication History. Participants travel back in time and dip a real quill feather into ink, then stamp out a newspaper with letter stamps and create illustrations the way early artists did. Take a break from screen-to-screen communication to touch grass — oops, quills. 10 a.m. to noon July 12, Boone County History & Culture Center, free, 573-443-8936
Thrive in the summer heat with Missouri’s own Sam Barber, taking the stage as part of the Central Bank Downtown Live! series. From Perry County in southeast Missouri, Barber became known for the single “Indigo (feat. Avery Anna)” from his debut Restless Mind album. Barber will take the stage on Ninth Street, and other Downtown Live shows this summer will be held at Rose Music Hall. 8 p.m. July 23, Ninth Street, $40, thebluenote.com; other Downtown Live! shows include iDKHOW x Phantom Planet, July 8; TopHouse, Aug. 22; Flipturn, Aug. 24 all at 8 p.m. at Rose Park, $32-$39, rosemusichall.com
Sparkle with pride all summer long with July events and community. First, duckwalk to The Blue Note for the glitter-packed All-Stars Pageant. Former Pride Pageant royalty will be working that floor for a chance to win another crown in celebration of MidMO PrideFest’s 25th anniversary. Then, turn up the party with Ashland Pride Fest, which was started in 2022 by The Dandy Lion Cafe. The celebration kicks off with a parade at 8 a.m. and continues with local vendors, music, drag and family-friendly fun with small-town pride down boots. To find community anytime, connect with The Center Project, Columbia’s go-to hub for LGBTQ+ resources and support. All-Stars Pageant: 7 p.m. July 11, The Blue Note, $15; Ashland Pride Fest: 9 a.m. to 2 p.m. July 12, Ashland City Park, free, dandyliononmain.com; centerproject.org
Shake up your summer with Something Rotten!, the hilarious musical that pits two brothers against the Bard himself. Nick and Nigel are done playing second fiddle to William Shakespeare, so they hatch a wild plan: create the world’s first musical. Expect chaos and comedy under the stars at these outdoor performances. 8 p.m. July 24-27 and July 31 to Aug. 3, Maplewood Barn Community Theatre, $14.65; $6.25, child; $11.50, group of 10 or more, 573-227-2276
Wander through the tangled roots of American history with North Woods by Daniel Mason, this year’s Columbia One Read through the Daniel Boone Regional Library. What starts as a runaway love story in a Puritan colony spirals into a centuriesspanning narrative packed with ghosts, gardeners, poets and even a feral cat or two. Mason blends letters, journalism and speculative fiction to explore identity, memory and how a single place can hold centuries of stories. Chosen by public vote, the One Read selection encourages the community to join in a shared reading experience. North Woods by Daniel Mason, borrow at Columbia Public Library, dbrl.org/one-read
Justin Nardy’s record label, Expert Work Records, brings decades-old songs from small bands back to the present.
BY DAVIS WILSON
I was 15 or 16 years old when I first heard about the mythical Beach Boys album Smile. The ultra-artistic, ambitious follow-up to the acclaimed Pet Sounds was never released due to a complicated collection of reasons — conflict within the band, drug abuse and pressure from the record label. Stripped-back versions of some songs were eventually included on different projects, but the legend of Smile and what it could have been grew. This is a story that happens on repeat. Throughout the history of music, there are songs and albums that have been recorded or performed but never released. Well-known artists such as Bob Dylan, Dr.
Dre, Kate Bush and even The Wiggles all have lost projects, but it is more common for less-known artists, who are more likely to be forgotten altogether.
“Some works get lost for one reason or another, and sometimes they reemerge decades later,” says University of Missouri jazz studies professor Samuel Griffith. “It’s always sad if the creator is long since dead. But if the bands are still around, they are going to be able to reap the benefits of that.”
Columbian Justin Nardy isn’t letting the music he loves be forgotten. His record label, Expert Work Records, releases lost, forgotten and posthumous
Justin Nardy launched Expert Work Records in 2016. The label helps preserve the music of small, often local, bands by releasing recordings that had been left to linger on a shelf.
music on vinyl, tapes, CDs and online, bringing local music he loved decades ago to the present.
On the rock ’n’ roll path
Nardy was enamored watching Metallica’s “One” music video on MTV. This third and final single from Metallica’s 1988 album, … And Justice For All, was the band’s first official music video and peaked at No. 35 on the Billboard Hot 100 in 1989. Nardy, a second grader at the time, had to have it. When he went to the mall with his mother, he went straight to the music store, which didn’t have the ... And Justice For All tape, but he
convinced his mom to buy him Metallica’s first record, Kill ’Em All, instead. With that, Nardy’s life was set in motion — the chords of rock ’n’ roll had infiltrated his mind, grabbed hold of it and did not let go.
When Nardy was 12, he got his first guitar and shortly after joined a band. He and his friends covered groups like Nirvana, Metallica and Green Day. “At that time, I was basically in junior high, so we just played a couple of junior high birthday parties,” Nardy says. It wasn’t until he moved from Morton, Illinois, to Columbia at age 14 that the whole band thing took off. Nardy met more people his age who played music and they formed Amputee Set, with him on vocals. “Justin was intense,” says Barry Hibdon, a friend of Nardy’s and
Although Justin Nardy can’t pick favorites, here are three recordings that he says best represent the label: Bald Eagle, Clean Living; Orwell, 1995 Discography and American Motors, Content To see more of the label’s releases, visit expertworkrecords. bandcamp.com.
Cassettes from bands like Orwell (above right) get new life through Expert Work Records. One of the releases (below) is from his former band Bald Eagle.
a local musician. “He was going for it. He wasn’t pre tending or acting; he let it all hang out there. It was great. They were a really, really strong band.”
In the summer of 1997, the group went on a tour with the Milwaukee band Tintoretto playing shows in Florida, Washington, D.C., and New York before returning to Columbia. The band’s guitar player was old enough to drive, so the group used a family van to travel.
Nardy is all about the music. If he doesn’t like the music, he won’t put it out.
Nardy stayed in Columbia and played for a number of local bands, including Bald Eagle from 2003 until 2009. After recording its first album, Bald Eagle teamed up with Emergency Umbrella, a local record label intent on putting out music made by Columbia bands. Nardy became a co-owner of the label and ran it out of his house with his two roommates until it folded in 2009. When Bald Eagle reunited in 2012 to record a new album called Clean Living, Nardy used the experience he acquired during his time with Emergency Umbrella and decided he would put out the album on his own label. Bald Eagle broke up again in 2014, but Expert Work Records was born.
When the label officially launched in 2016, Nardy wanted to highlight Columbia bands. But instead of looking for current bands, he opted for those of the past. “I knew a ton of Columbia bands that recorded stuff that never got released, and they had these recordings just sitting on the shelf,” Nardy says. “So I reached out to these bands and started putting out this unreleased stuff. And then it spiraled into St. Louis and Chicago bands.”
One of the bands Expert Work collaborates with is Tintoretto, the group Nardy toured with in 1997. After he approached the group about putting out its unreleased records, Tintoretto reunited and re-recorded its last album. Expert Work put it out.
“A lot of this stuff, I’ve had copies of for years and years,” Nardy says. “A lot of times with bands, it’ll be some of the best stuff they ever recorded.”
“I think the stuff he releases is very much his taste,” Hibdon says. “He is almost like: ‘Don’t forget about this stuff; this stuff means the world to me. I remember seeing the band and only had a 7-inch, let’s put out the whole record’ sort of thing. He recognizes the need for that.”
Years ago, Nardy toured with the Chicago band Haymarket Riot. Some were previously part of Orwell, a relatively unknown Chicago band that featured Bob Nanna, a well-known figure in the indie punk scene. Nardy ended up with a tape of Orwell’s songs from 1995 and loved it, holding on to it for decades before deciding to release it via Expert Work as Orwell: 1995. The initial 300 vinyl copies immediately sold out.
This year, Expert Work put out a 30th anniversary edition. “I think it’s like the best-selling thing on the label, which is why it’s important to me,” Nardy says. “But it’s also the coolest and most involved thing we did.”
Nardy does Expert Work for the love of music. It is not his full-time job, even though it often feels that way. But getting good music out into the world makes it worth it to him. “As long as it’s fun, and I have the time, the energy and the money to keep it going, then I will continue to do it,” Nardy says.
Music made in the past — but released today — is the same music, but it could mean something different now. That’s another beautiful part of the lost media revival. “They’re just incredibly valuable artifacts of time,” Griffith says. It’s natural to wonder what could have been with your favorite artists. Nardy doesn’t need to wonder — he brings them back from the lost.
The nonprofit organization offers lessons, classes and programs keyed for students of all ages and levels.
BY TYLER WHITE
Let’s go back to elementary school and revisit music class.
Maybe you had a recorder or you sat at a piano as everyone focused on the teacher showing students how to perform “Mary Had a Little Lamb.” Some students might already know how to play an instrument, while others were lost amid the C’s and G’s from day one. Everyone was at a different place, but they all had to do the same thing.
Scarlett Clark, an elementary school student, felt restricted by this sameness. Her music teacher wasn’t able to help each student individually. But that’s not the case at Compass Inc.
Compass is a nonprofit music organization that provides music classes, summer camps and programs. Lessons focus on the student and meeting each one at their skill level while teachers focus on connecting with the students and allowing them to choose where to start.
“Everyone is different, and everyone has a different teacher that they connect with and work really well with,” Scarlett says. “There is always a teacher for them here at Compass.”
The learning at Compass is for all ages. Prior to enrolling in vocal lessons at Compass, Christy Hutton, Scarlett’s grandmother, hadn’t taken music lessons since the 1980s. However, when she returned to music at Compass, her teacher told her to let loose with her voice and embrace her singing, which allowed her to feel more comfortable.
That was just the start for Hutton. Compass also provides a variety of programs, bands and choirs to help students build community. Without the lessons, Hutton says she wouldn’t have felt confident enough to be a part of those groups. “That’s a lot of what Compass is about,” Hutton says. “It’s really about creating community through music.”
The motivation for these accessible lessons comes from personal experience. Violet Vonder Haar, the Compass program director, says she was lucky enough to have a good music teacher, but there wasn’t much of a songwriting group for her growing up. She wishes she had a place like Compass where she could learn at her own pace and find other students to write with. “This is the place that I needed as a young musician, and so that’s my motivation, is creating a space for kids who don’t feel like they fit in that box,” Vonder Haar says.
The teachers are crucial to creating a space where kids can fully develop in their musical journey. Phylshawn Johnson, the Compass board chair, says this includes making sure teachers have the tools to instruct students wherever they are. “Our intention was to have a wide range of teachers that could teach different levels, but also that were just really great people as well, so that they can connect to students,” Johnson says.
One of the unique aspects of these lessons is that the teaching goes both ways. As a teacher, Johnson also learns from her students as she helps them with what they love. Even if she doesn’t know the artist or song they want to learn, Johnson takes the time to learn a new style or technique to teach her lessons. “It helps push me to learn as well at the same time,” Johnson says. “Now I get to use all my skills of transcribing on the spot or explaining what’s happening on the spot, versus something that I’ve already taught 100 times.”
The importance of lessons is personal for Compass vice chair Tony Lotven. As a kid, his mom bought him a flute — it was one of the best gifts he’d ever received. However, he now realizes
If you feel like your musical chops are flat and could be sharper, Compass Inc. offers plenty of ways to pick up the tempo. Visit CompassColumbia. org for more. And stay tuned to its Instagram, @compass columbia, for information about CompassFest and concert series.
Classes: Group classes for all ages begin in September. Lessons: Compass’ volunteer teachers help you find harmony in a wide range of instruments, plus ear training, music theory, arranging and more.
Summer camps: Most day camps occur in June. The Compass Music Camp, held July 14-20, is for students ages 8 to 18. It concludes with a showcase at The Blue Note.
that the music lessons that came with it actually were the best part of the gift. The flute still holds a special place in his heart, but the lessons were what gave him the skill and passion for pursuing the music that he plays today.
“Music touches everybody, whether you’re a musician or not,” Lotven says.
“Music touches everybody in their lives.”
Music lessons are much more than preparation for an end-of-year elementary school recital. Compass embraces an approach that promotes lifelong learning in music — whether you’re starting music for the first time, returning after many years, or even a teacher helping students learn.
Violet Vonder Haar
is Compass Inc.’s program director, and Phylshawn Johnson is the board chair and teaches classes. You might recognize them from local band Violet and the Undercurrents.
At one time in Missouri’s history, Indigenous peoples were essentially outlawed from living here. Although the laws have since changed, Native identities are still being erased. Five Columbians talked to Vox about what their Indigenous identities mean to them at a time when many institutions seem to prefer they’d disappear.
WRITTEN BY MADELYN BONKOSKI AND GRACE BURWELL
DESIGN BY LAUREN
GREEN
earning and understanding history takes time. And when it comes to Indigenous history, two centuries of American colonialism have slowed the lessons and acknowledgment of the past.
In 2025, Indigenous advancements are disregarded at the university level at the same time that diversity and inclusion efforts are being vilified across the country.
Addressing the present and future of Indigenous students, staff and faculty was what the MU Indigenous Task Force sought to address with its January report — an unprecedented systematic review of Indigenous affairs at the University of Missouri, according to the report. The task force was appointed by University of Missouri President Mun Choi in 2020.
“Students report that Native Peoples and cultures are largely unrecognized and invisible on campus,” the report states. “Many non-Native members of the campus community seem to believe that Native Peoples have ‘disappeared’ or are ‘extinct.’ ”
The report included more than 40 specific recommendations, such as establishing an Indigenous advisory council, appointing a tribal liaison, creating spaces for Indigenous peoples and offering tuition waivers and resources for outreach and research.
Disregarded and dismissed
But after giving the task force its mission more than four years ago, the university declined to take any action based on its recommendations. University spokesman Travis Zimpfer wrote in an email: “We will not be establishing any new administrative positions or assembling an advisory council. Some of the remaining recommendations would violate the 2023 SCOTUS decision and/or Title VI.”
The statement references a 2023 U.S. Supreme Court decision ending affirmative action in college admissions and Title VI of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 prohibiting discrimination on the grounds of race, color or national origin.
The university’s decision to take no action comes amid a growing national movement for universities to recognize and partner with Indigenous Nations on education, land management, cultural restoration and other activities. Its position
also ignores the accomplishments of other universities. The University of Kansas, for example, has an Office of Sovereign Partnerships & Indigenous Initiatives, and the University of Illinois provides full tuition to all students of the Peoria Tribe.
It also ignores its own history. The University of Missouri was established in 1839 as the first institution of higher learning west of the Mississippi River and the first in the Louisiana Purchase territory. In 1870, the university became a land-grant institution under the 1862 Morrill Act, the federal legislation that created a national system of land-grant universities.
The federal government gifted the university almost 270,000 acres of land that were previously mostly occupied by Indigenous peoples. Nationally, the land-grant program displaced nearly 250 Indigenous tribes and communities and requisitioned nearly 11 million acres of land. Over the years, the university has sold almost all of the 270,000 acres to benefit its own endowment, adding hundreds of thousands of dollars to its coffers from
The MU student organization Four Directions Indigenous Students and Allies commissioned this mural, which was debuted at the MU Student Center in November 2020. It was painted by Yatika Starr Fields to honor Indigenous students and Indigenous people’s long-held ties to the land in Missouri. Melissa Horner, a doctoral student at MU who is part of Four Directions and served on the MU Indigenous Task Force, said at the time: “A mural is a very visible thing on campus. That could be connected to our own visibility as Native students on this campus.”
land that was obtained through coercive treaties and lopsided deals.
When Choi established the MU Indigenous Task Force — whose recommendations are being ignored — the international Land Back Movement was part of public discourse. The movement seeks to return lands and decision-making power back to the Indigenous people who were once its stewards.
MU geography professor and chair Mark Palmer, who was part of the task force, says he thinks the university could take steps to bring more Indigenous perspectives to MU, such as recruiting students from public schools in Oklahoma, where there is a larger Indigenous population. At MU, 52 American Indian or Alaska Native students were enrolled as of fall 2024. The number of American Indian or Alaska Native students at the university has declined steadily in recent semesters; in the fall of 2020, there were 72 students.
“You come to a university to have your world rocked, because there’s so much diversity here,” Palmer says. “There are new ideas. There’s all this stuff that you immerse with, but that’s the learning process. When
you feel a little scared, when you feel a little uncomfortable, you’re learning something.”
The value of stories
Storytelling is one way to uplift the deep history and share the thriving current stories of Indigenous people.
At Washington University in St. Louis, the Kathryn M. Buder Center for American Indian Studies collects and shares stories of Indigenous people through its Digital Indigenous Storytelling Project.
“When non-Native people are wanting to learn about Native people, it’s always been (in a) historical sense,” says Eric Pinto, assistant director of the center and a leader on the project. Pinto, who is connected to the Mississippi Band of Choctaw and the Zuni Pueblo of New Mexico, says it is important to understand the historical traumas Indigenous people have endured throughout time. Pinto says people need to see both ends of Indigenous history: past and present.
As part of that ongoing education and storytelling effort, Vox spoke with Indigenous students, MU faculty and community members about their experiences and Indigenous identities. Several noted an overall lack of awareness and education surrounding Indigeneity, feelings of invisibility and experiences of prejudice of varying levels.
“It’s like a spectrum, learning about Native people,” Pinto says, “On one end is the history — how our ancestors lived and the things that they did. And then you look at today.”
central component of Dennis Kelley’s teaching style — and identity — is a strong understanding of self that’s tied to place and time. A descendant of the Chumash and Salinan peoples from California’s central coast, Kelley found his passion in academia teaching religious studies at the University of Missouri.
His connection to religion stems, in part, from his Indigenous identity.
Dennis Kelly has taught at MU for 20 years. He grew up in San Luis Obispo County, California. “It was kind of an odd dual existence of sorts, being aware of the Indigenous heritage and yet living in a neighborhood where my friends were from every background you could imagine,” he says.
Kelley grew up in San Luis Obispo County, California, where he would often visit Mission San Luis Obispo de Tolosa and Mission San Antonio de Padua, two of 21 Spanish missions founded in the late 1700s that were intended to convert Native Americans into Spanish colonial citizens. His sixth great-grandmother — the oldest living relative in Kelley’s family with mission records — was baptized at Mission San Antonio, he says.
Kelley lived in a low-income housing project in town but spent most weekends and summers at the missions.
“These are the histories that we all live.”
—Dennis Kelley
Kelley’s understanding of Indigeneity “didn’t even come into (his) consciousness” until he was around 15 years old, when his father died. That led to a “political awakening” of sorts for Kelley. He began to reflect on his identity and heritage and got more involved in his community during his teenage years.
Before teaching, Kelley worked in construction in California — most of his family members are blue-collar workers in agricultural industries, he says. He took his first college class at 30. Kelley pursued a master’s degree in social work while he was a counselor for youth offenders through the Diocese of Monterey, where he worked in large part with Indigenous youth.
It wasn’t long before Kelley realized he was really interested in the ideas behind communal identity and
GRACE BURWELL
switched his focus to religious studies. That led him to teaching. “Then I did this sort of veer off into the humanities and never (looked) back,” he says. Kelley earned bachelor’s degrees in anthropology and philosophy from California State University, Fresno. He went on to receive his master’s degree and doctorate in religious studies from U.C.-Santa Barbara.
Kelley has taught a wide array of religious studies courses since he arrived at MU 20 years ago, including classes about Indigenous religions, religion in preand post-Civil War America and even religion and humor. He says he aims to bring students together through the material he teaches, as well as acknowledge the challenging elements of American history. “The point is, these are historical facts, and how does it play out over time and how do people build identities in these contexts?” Kelley says. “The fact is that the U.S. had official positions of eradication of Native people for a while. You can’t avoid that, and to do it would be, to me, academic malpractice.”
Kelley’s identity frames his teaching approach; he believes it is vital to open up an “awareness level” surrounding Indigeneity for his students. “This isn’t going to be about, ‘Look how much we victimized people,’ ” he says. “These are the histories that we all live.”
Kelley says it’s important to understand that Indigenous experiences are as varied as the landscapes humans inhabit. He likes to think about culture as something that flows under the surface — like the water of the Salinas River in California that flowed through his hometown.
“Everybody has different histories,” Kelley says. “We have to stop thinking about Indians and think about Indigeneity and how these intimate, long-term relationships with specific landscapes play out for different people.”
Powwows allow MU student Mathias Smith to connect to his heritage.
BY GRACE BURWELL
n a cloudy weekend in midMarch, University of Missouri junior Mathias Smith is in Springfield, preparing to dance in a powwow for the first time in months at the American Indian Center of Springfield’s Annual Meeting Powwow. Smith, who is a citizen of the Navajo Nation and a descendant of the Osage Nation, has been attending powwows and dancing his whole life. He says the feeling of community and connection it brings “just feels right.”
“There’s a lot of cultural context behind it,” Smith says. “From how my dad and my uncles have raised me, they’ve let me know that the way we dance and the songs we dance to are very, very old, that a lot of people have danced them before and a lot of people will dance them after we’re gone.”
At the Springfield Dream Center, Smith waits at the dance floor’s edge for his cue to enter. His regalia is a collection of carefully crafted, meaningful items — German silver armbands, tightly wound side drops, beaded threads and even pieces made by Smith’s father, such as hand-beaded moccasins. The beading of Smith’s moccasins matches the beading of his side drops: red, yellow and turquoise, with silver accents that complement the silver bells Smith wears around his knees.
Dancing is an important element of how Smith experiences and connects with his Indigenous identity. From Boonville to Oklahoma, Smith travels to dance and connect with Indigenous community members.
Smith dances the Southern Straight style, one Osage people have danced since the 1880s, he says.
The Osage — whose land was expropriated by the U.S. government through coercive treaties starting in 1808 — were forced to move from Missouri to a reservation in Oklahoma.
Smith grew up in Kansas City, Kansas, but lived in the suburbs of St. Louis during his high school years. His father, an MU alumnus, also grew up in the St. Louis area; he works for a geographic information systems company that collaborates with Indigenous nations. Smith’s mother grew up on the Navajo Nation, which spans parts of Arizona, New Mexico and Utah. She moved to Kansas City as a teenager and met Smith’s father in college.
He has three siblings: an older brother, older sister and younger sister.
Smith lives with his older sister, Nya, a lab technician and MU alumna, and his older brother, Carter, a senior at the university. Smith’s younger sister, Cora — to his chagrin — is attending
“If I want to consciously see Native people, I have to go to a powwow, or I’ve got to go to Oklahoma and be on a reservation.”
—Mathias Smith
Jewelry and beadwork were laid out for sale at the American Indian Center of Springfield’s Annual Meeting Powwow in March. Various Great Plains tribes occupied parts of Missouri, and are well known for their beadwork skills. Historically, as Indigenous peoples accessed glass beads through trade with Europeans settlers, their beadwork became more extravagant.
U.S. history is Indigenous history. “Native people have fought and served in every American war,” says Eric Pinto, assistant director of the Kathryn M. Buder Center for American Indian Studies at Washington University in St. Louis. “We’re right there along every step.”
Missouri’s history as a state is also Indigenous history. In elementary schools, students are taught that the state’s legacy kicked off with the one-two punch of the Louisiana Purchase in 1803 and the Meriwether Lewis and William Clark expedition in 1804. Yet generations of people had already been making lives here before then. “Native people have had connections to this land for thousands of years,” Pinto says. Near St. Louis, the Cahokia Mounds was the largest city north of Mexico for hundreds of years, boasting populations that rivaled prominent European cities at the time, such as London.
As Lewis and Clark underwent their expedition, Native people and settlers were interacting occasionally based mostly on trade and travel needs. But the lodestar of Manifest Destiny — and the U.S. federal government — encouraged settlers to grab for more and more.
In 1808, Clark shepherded a treaty between the Osage Nations people and the burgeoning American government. In the misleading treaty, the Osage Nations were coerced into ceding 30 million acres of land in what’s now Missouri and Arkansas in exchange for $1,200, $1,500 worth of goods and hollow promises of “protection” and “friendship.”
When Missouri became a state in 1821, it had an Indigenous population of around 20,000, with people in nations including Kickapoo, Shawnee, Ioway, Otoe, Delaware and Osage. By the 1830s, most Indigenous nations in Missouri had been forcibly relocated to other states through coercive treaties, powered by Andrew Jackson’s Indian Removal Act of 1830.
In 1838, Missouri dealt the final blow by passing a law that prohibited most trade with Native peoples, outlawing them from “hunting or roaming” within the state without a written permit from an authorized agent. According to the University of Missouri’s Indigenous Task Force Report, by 1839, no federally recognized tribes remained in Missouri.
Although there are no federally recognized tribes in the state today, close to 37,500 people who identify as Indigenous still live in Missouri, according to the U.S. Census Bureau.
Indigenous people are not a historical relic in the state or in Columbia. “Native people are still here,” Pinto says. “We’re still alive, doing great things.”
The American Indian Center of Springfield is a nonprofit organization dedicated to promoting Indigenous culture in Southwest Missouri and building inclusivity for the whole community.
Kay Gibson, the board chairwoman, spoke at the March powwow, saying: “We want to teach our culture. We want to show people that our traditions are still here and still alive today. We still practice them.“
the University of Kansas in the fall.
Mathias grew up dancing with his siblings and can’t “ever remember not dancing.” Both of Smith’s sisters also dance in powwows; it’s a cultural connection that runs in the family. Smith and his sisters travel together to powwows, and in March, Smith’s grandmother accompanied him to the one in Springfield.
Whenever Smith mentions he’s attending a powwow to non-Indigenous people, though, he says he is often met with confusion. “The explanation is the same every time: It’s a party,” he says. “I regard it as not unusual and very ordinary.”
Smith studies history and constitutional democracy at MU. He’s known since grade school that he wanted to study history; it’s just something he’s drawn to, he says.
dent involves navigating an overall lack of awareness. Creating a sense of community with other Indigenous people here has been a “very slow” process, Smith says.
“There’s not very many of us,” he says.
“If I want to consciously see Native people, I have to go to a powwow, or I’ve got to go to Oklahoma and be on a reservation.”
There’s not a huge draw for Indigenous students and faculty at MU, Smith says, unlike at universities in states like Oklahoma, where Indigenous students benefit from in-state tuition and an abundance of Indigenous faculty.
Mathias Smith finds deep connection to his heritage and community at powwows, especially through the dances he performs. “A lot of people have danced them before, and a lot of people have danced them after,” he says.
Smith is also a member of Army ROTC. After college, he’s committed to serving at least six years in the U.S. Army. Smith says he views his commitment to the Army as being influenced by “push and pull factors” of sorts, partially influenced by his grandfather’s service. There’s a certain amount of prestige that comes with service in Indigenous communities, he says.
After the Army, Smith hopes to pursue a master’s degree in Atlantic history and politics through MU’s Kinder Institute on Constitutional Democracy.
For Smith, being an Indigenous stu-
Smith says he views his Indigenous identity as a student at MU “as sort of an invisible life.” Most people just don’t know what being Indigenous means. Before taking a Native American geographies class with Mark Palmer — who is one of only three Indigenous professors at MU — Smith didn’t talk much about his identity at school. But people ask Smith about his ethnicity, which he says has happened consistently since elementary school.
“Sometimes people ask me, you know, ‘What nationality are you?’ Because the idea is, ‘You’re some vagueness of brown — you’re not white or Black or Asian — like, what are you? Because — I hate to say it — you don’t look American,’ ” Smith says. “That’s a heady idea to live with sometimes.”
Photography by Jessie Zhao
Aspiring diplomat and ‘massive nerd’ Gwen Blevins wants to see more support and knowledge of Indigenous people at MU.
BY GRACE BURWELL
or University of Missouri student Gwen Blevins, her identity as a multiracial Indigenous person informs her passion for politics and diplomacy. “I’ve always been fascinated (by) learning about other cultures and kind of being a personal citizen diplomat,” Blevins says. “Sometimes I’m the first Indigenous person or the first multiracial person that somebody has met, and I take that responsibility very seriously to educate and build connections and build friendships there.”
Blevins, a citizen of the Chickasaw Nation and a descendant of the Cherokee Nation, also has Black and white ancestry. “Growing up, I realized that not everyone had the same identity as me,” she says. “I think being multiracial kind of puts you in a unique spot where you experience a lot of different cultures at the same time, but maybe not any of them entirely.”
Blevins is pursuing degrees in constitutional democracy and international studies at MU. She says she hopes to work as a diplomat for the State Department with Indigenous communities in Latin America. She’s also a self-described “massive nerd” — Blevins enjoys playing video games, reading comics and creating art. In spring, she attended a comic convention in Barcelona while studying abroad in Spain.
Growing up in a majority Black neighborhood outside of Kansas City, Blevins says coming to a predominantly white institution like MU was an adjustment. She tries to approach these situations from an educational perspective to help others understand better while recognizing that she only represents her life experiences. “Experiencing racism and ignorance at that level was definitely a shock, but I see my multiracial identity and multicultural identity as a strength that helps me connect with people,” she says.
In addition to outright racism, in-
cluding classmates making comments to her about casinos and alcoholism, Blevins has also encountered ignorance about Indigeneity that often stems from a lack of historical understanding, such as professors failing to recognize that the Trail of Tears was “a calculated genocide,” she says — something that is personal for Blevins as a descendant of the Cherokee Nation and a Chickasaw citizen.
In the 1830s, the U.S. government forcibly removed about 100,000 Indigenous people from their homelands in the southeastern United States — members of the Cherokee, Chickasaw, Muscogee, Seminole and Choctaw nations — to designated Indian Territory west of the Mississippi River. It was a state-sponsored ethnic cleansing that resulted in the death of an estimated 15,000 people; Congress had passed the Indian Removal Act in 1830, a policy set in motion and signed by President Andrew Jackson.
Around 4,000 Cherokees died along the Trail of Tears — about one-fourth of the population, according to the Cherokee Nation. In addition to the Five Tribes, many tribal nations that lived in Missouri were also removed, including the Osage, the Illini, the Ioway, the Quapaw and more.
While Blevins has noticed gaps in knowledge at MU, she says she’s met others who are knowledgeable and want to move away from stereotypical ideas of Indigeneity — it’s a mixed bag. “What I’ve also found at Mizzou is that a lot of people are very, very willing to learn, and they constantly want to educate themselves,” she says.
Still, Blevins is saddened by the lack of support for Indigenous people. She hopes to see tangible action that recognizes that the university — and Columbia — would not exist in its current state without appropriated Indigenous land.
One way Blevins says the university could do so is by incorporating physical commemorations of Indigenous history
“I
see my multiracial identity and multicultural identity as a strength that helps me connect with people.”
—Gwen Blevins
Gwen Blevins is pursuing degrees in constitutional democracy and international studies at MU. “I think that we thrive as an institution when we value diverse voices, and I worry that we’re moving away from that right now,” she says.
and culture into its landscape — for example, a plaque explaining the meaning behind the Indigenous Mural in the MU Student Center. The mural, painted by Indigenous muralist Yatika Starr Fields, was commissioned by Indigenous student and ally group MU Four Directions and completed in 2020. Right now, there’s a QR code near that mural for people who want to know more.
“It’s a really important history, and I think it colors everything about Mizzou and about Columbia,” Blevins says. “We have to understand that that was taken out of Indigenous pain, and it was stolen from Indigenous people, and I think that history of the university is something we should be reckoning with actively as we navigate being students here and as faculty (navigate) teaching here.”
But a QR code isn’t enough, Blevins says. We shouldn’t whisper our support for Indigenous people, she says. “We should shout it.”
McKenzie Ortiz navigates her multiracial background and focuses on pedestrian safety.
BY MADELYN BONKOSKI
cKenzie Ortiz walks. She walks on the streets and sidewalks as she advocates for pedestrian rights. Throughout her life, she also has walked with different identities.
Since she was a little girl, Ortiz knew she was a part of different cultures, yet she didn’t learn about her Indigenous heritage until she was 7 years old. Ortiz’s heritage is a mix of white, Black, Mexican and Otoe-Missouria. Her mom and her aunt, her mother’s twin sister, were both adopted. Her maternal grandparents were both white, and her mom was biracial. Her father was a member of the Otoe-Missouria tribe, Mexican and white.
“I feel like a constant tug of war between cultures because I never feel like Indigenous enough or Black enough,” she says.
Ortiz grew up disconnected from her father’s side of the family and her Native identity. He was murdered when Ortiz was 6 years old. It was overwhelming for Ortiz as a child to connect with his family.
It would take years for Ortiz to feel ready to explore the Indigenous side of her heritage. When she was in high school, she visited the Otoe-Missouria reservation for the first time. “I was older, I had more agency,” she says. Ortiz enrolled as a member of Otoe-Missouria in 2011 and received her tribal card. “I
feel like I’m constantly trying to prove my identity,” Ortiz says. “Being a multiracial person and having the enrollment makes me feel like I’m actually a part of something and I can have hard proof that this is me and this my people.”
Being part of her tribe is like having a second family, Ortiz says. “Things that a mom or dad would normally help you out with, like Christmas assistance or school supplies, your tribe is there to provide for you, too,” she says.
When Ortiz moved to Columbia from Kansas City in 2021, she realized that author Greg Olson, who has written books about the Indigenous people in Missouri, also resided here. Ortiz read Olson’s book, Indigenous Missourians: Ancient Societies to the Present, to learn about her Native roots. “That has been really healing and cool to see, because there are so many places in Missouri that are significant to my tribe, and I’ve been wanting to go physically to those locations, but I just haven’t had the chance to,” Ortiz says.
One part of the book that specifically resonated with Ortiz was the Otoe-Missouria’s connection to water and the Missouri River. Ortiz recalls always feeling a consistent theme of water in her life and she studied environmental science in college. “I grew up close to the Arkansas River,” Ortiz says. “(I feel like) rivers really guided civilizations.” She sees similarities between her connec-
Photography by Jessie Zhao and Kyle Maki/Archive
“Being multiracial and having this enrollment makes me feel like I’m actually a part of something.”
—McKenzie Ortiz McKenzie Ortiz is the advocacy coordinator for Local Motion and founder of the Pedestrian Pride Project, which is on Instagram as @pedestrianpride.
tion to water and members of her tribe historically using the Missouri River to travel and sustain themselves.
Her career is now focused on transportation, though she concentrates on streets and roadways instead of rivers.
Ortiz is the advocacy coordinator for Local Motion, an organization that provides walking, biking and transit solutions, and she is the founder of the Pedestrian Pride Project, a group that promotes for sidewalk safety and accessibility. She also serves on Columbia’s Planning and Zoning Commission.
She has a driver’s license but does not drive. Instead, she walks everywhere.
Her desire to work with transportation comes from her own experience with poverty. “Our infrastructure doesn’t support poor people,” Ortiz says. “Poor people depend on their feet to get to where they need to go.”
As Ortiz walks through the world, her work makes it safer for others to follow in her footsteps.
MORE
These stories are part of a larger project examining Indigenous issues in Missouri. Read more about the MU Indigenous Task Force recommendations and fate of the land taken for the university as a result of the Morrill Act at columbia missourian.com.
William Branson frequently travels to powwows where he often acts as a master of ceremonies.
“Every weekend during the summer we were traveling to a different dance.”
—William Branson
he
BY MADELYN BONKOSKI
or William Branson, age 16 was a turning point in his Native identity. That’s when he began traveling across the United States to attend Indigenous ceremonies. Born and raised in northwestern Missouri, he did not grow up with many Indigenous people, especially at the Catholic grade school he and his two sisters attended. Branson’s mother was of German and Welsh descent. His father descended from the Plains Cree people.
“We had to learn, through my family history on my dad’s side, about our background and traditional beliefs,” Branson says.
In Branson’s community, he began experiencing prejudice in high school — both because of his Indigenous style and his small stature. “I always wore my hair long, braided down in a typical fashion,” Branson says. “So, you know, I kind of stood out amongst young guys.”
Although his father and grandfather taught him about his Plains Cree heritage and spiritual beliefs, as soon as he got his driver’s license he began traveling across the country to attend Indigenous events, powwows and ceremonies to learn more about his culture. “Every weekend during the summer, we were traveling to a different dance — whether it was West Coast (or) East Coast,” Branson says. “It didn’t really make a difference, as long as we had transportation to get there.”
It was at these events he learned more about the Native community than he’d experienced before. “It was kind of eye opening for me in that situation to realize that there was such a community,” Branson says. “To walk into a situation where all of a sudden I’m surrounded by 100 people that are all Native, it felt like home.”
That sense of belonging set him on a pathway of travel that concentrated on Indigeneity. And the influence of his family and friends pushed him along. “From that point in time, (when) I have traveled, I have based myself in that Native community.”
One person Branson has met through the mid-Missouri powwow circuit is Mathias Smith (read his story on p.16), who is a student at the University of Missouri and dances in powwows, just like Branson used to do. “I love watching those young dancers come up,” Branson says. “They’re creating their own footsteps inside that arena. And that makes all the difference. That’s what keeps us alive at this point in time.”
At age 68 and living in northern Columbia on a ranch, Branson and his wife, Dawn, raise horses and have other livestock. They travel to attend powwows and family events about 25 to 30 weekends a year. Over the years, Branson has played numerous roles at powwows, including arena director and singer. He has danced all the men’s styles and held honored positions such as head man dancer — leading all the male dancers for every song during a dance. These days, Branson mostly acts as a master of ceremonies.
As Branson traveled 50 years ago to attend Native events, he helped pave the road for today’s Indigenous youth to understand their own cultures, communities and Native heritage. Immersed in the powwow circuit for decades, he has seen it evolve from a time in the 1970s and ’80s when “you didn’t want to be Native” due to racism, he says. He’s glad that powwows have come back.
“That’s where we want to be,” he says. “That’s where our friends and our family are.”
We don’t blame you. Luckily, you can satisfy your blueberry fix with these summertime sweets.
BY AVERI NORRIS
Missouri’s dog days might be scorching, but the relentless sun is a vital component to seasonal joys like blueberries, which require cold winters paired with hot summers for a bountiful harvest.
“Missouri (blueberry season) is typically going to begin in early June for our earliest ripening varieties,” says Caleb O’Neal, a sales specialist in plant science with the University of Missouri Extension. “And then it’ll go all the way through late July for some of our later ripening varieties.”
To help satisfy your blueberry cravings, Vox checked out the offerings at four local spots.
If baked and blended blueberries aren’t fresh enough for you, go get some yourself. A few mid-Missouri farms, such as Blueberry Hills Farm and Blue Shepard Farm, offer U-pick appointments for bushels of fun.
Amanda Rainey started baking bagels during the COVID-19 pandemic to occupy her time and sold them through a pop-up at Pizza Tree. Blueberry bagels are one of many varieties offered at this Jewish deli that opened as a stand-alone in 2021. Or order The Blues, which includes a blueberry bagel, egg, muenster cheese, hot honey and turkey bacon. Single bagel with cream cheese, $4.50; The Blues, $9; 114 S. Ninth St.; Tues.-Fri. 7 a.m. to 2 p.m., Sat.-Sun. 7 a.m. to 1 p.m.
Launched in 2016 by Kalle LeMone and Kimber Dean and now operated by LeMone, Nourish features a menu free of gluten, soy, corn, refined sugar and preservatives. For a taste of blueberries, try the Blueberry Breakfast smoothie (below left). It’s a concoction of blueberries, oats, almond butter, banana, apple, organic vanilla protein and housemade almond milk. $11.50; 1201 E. Broadway; Mon.-Fri. 7:30 a.m. to 2:30 p.m., Sat.-Sun. 8:30 a.m. to 3 p.m.
Before the Peggy Jean’s Pies we know now, friends Jeanne Plumley and Peggy Day co-owned the bakery, which closed in 2004 just before Day died. In 2014, Plumley relaunched it with her daughter, Rebecca Miller. Customers can choose between a traditional blueberry pie or the blueberry streusel pie. The blueberry (above right) has a lattice top and is available sugar free and/or dairy free. The blueberry streusel has a sumptuous brown sugar, butter and oat crumble topping.
6-inch blueberry pie, $10-$10.50; 9-inch, $20-21; 503 E. Nifong Blvd. and 421 N. Stadium Blvd.; Mon.Fri. 10 a.m. to 6 p.m., Saturday 10 a.m. to 5 p.m.
Owner and dessert designer Marcey Mertens has been creating, baking and decorating desserts since she was young. She was often told “you should open a bakery,” so in 2019 she did. The name and logo come from the dandelions Mertens would notice on walks — she called them “wishflowers” to her children. The bakery does custom orders, sells to local shops and hosts pop-ups. To snag Wishflour’s blueberry scones on-the-go, check out the Columbia Public Library, Ernie’s Cafe, Fretboard Coffee and Lee Street Deli. Or place an order through Wishflour. Wishflour Bakery, 1020 Artist Alley, open 6-9 p.m. during First Fridays; call 573-239-2992 for orders; six scones for $15
These two growers pick the punchiest peppers to make the perfect hot sauces.
BY SOPHIE AYERS
Imagine this: You’re walking through your local farmers market. Smiles beckon as you walk to each table. Your daughter accepts chocolate samples from a nearby stand. Meanwhile, your business partner is setting up your own table with bottles of hot sauce — three flavors from a variety of spicy and sweet peppers.
That was the vision local pepper growers and entrepreneurs Killion Hardesty and Gage Ryan saw to fruition two years ago. “I think we grew 200 pounds of spicy peppers,” Ryan says. “We grew it at (Hardesty’s) parents’ house out in the country.”
The sauces are mostly made from South American peppers, such as aji chili and poblano, as well as ingredients like ghost peppers from India in its Garlic Ghost sauce.
A big part of the production process is feedback. Family and friends test the sauces and critique the flavors. Although Kaged Heat promises to deliver heat, one of the highest-demand sauces
is the fruity tang of the Smashed Peach.
Ryan and Hardesty credit the supportive, food-loving community of the Columbia Farmers Market for much of their success. The two also started selling their three sauces in Clovers Natural Market and at Root Cellar.
“First and foremost, we’re gardeners,” Hardesty says. “But (we’re) using this as an outlet to keep growing peppers for a reason. I think we’d be successful no matter what, but having the Columbia Farmers Market is a huge help. It’s a special place.”
This year, Hardesty and Ryan began working out of CoMo Cooks Shared Kitchen, a commercial kitchen on Business Loop 70 East. The kitchen is part of the CREATE [COMO] initiative that supports makers and creatives in Columbia.
The pair enjoy the neighborly feeling of the kitchen, and it helps them with their need for equipment and space. They have to use a giant machine to bottle each sauce individually. It is no easy task for two people, but Hardesty
Poblanos are pretty easy to find. Originating in Mexico, the dark green pepper is good for a little pep.
Aji chili peppers are small carrotshaped kickers. The sweet and tangy South American pepper is popular in sauces.
The ghost pepper is not for the weak and is known for making people cry. With roots in India, it is little and devil-red.
Find Kaged Heat at the Columbia Farmers Market, as well at Clovers Natural Market and Root Cellar.
Learn more at kagedheat.com.
GARLIC GHOST
Big, bold, hot. Level 7
Don’t be fooled by the garlic in the name of this sauce. Its level 7 heat is courtesy of the infamous ghost pepper. It’s a spicy treat!
SMASHED PEACH
Sweet and great on pork. Level 6
With an obviously sweet taste and “enough bourbon that you pick up on it,” this sauce combines peaches and the fruity heat of the Scotch bonnet pepper.
ROASTED POBLANO
Multipurpose, mild, smoky. Level 3
This milder sauce is great for most dishes. The rich smoky flavors of poblano and roasted garlic are rounded out by serrano peppers, white onions and lime.
Hardesty works in the CoMo Cooks Shared Kitchen to make the concoction of tomatoes, garlic, onions and red peppers that he and Ryan will transform into one of their sauces.
and Ryan say they “love what they do.” They’re thrilled about the quick success of their company and worry about outgrowing their space. That’s why Hardesty and Ryan say they hope to have their own farm one day, equipped with a greenhouse and bottling facility. However, they aren’t worried about the continued appeal of hot sauces. When Hardesty visited Honduras, he noticed hot sauces everywhere. “In a lot of Central and South American countries that’s just a given — hot sauces on the table all the time,” Hardesty says. And if they have their way, Kaged Heat sauces will be on lots of Columbia tables as well.
Bubblecup Tea Zone owner offers bento boxes and Taiwanese classics at Double Wood.
BY LAURYN RHODES
After opening the city’s first boba tea shop in 2006, its owner introduced more Taiwanese culture to Columbia with a made-to-order bento box business.
Tzuyang Chao, the owner of Bubblecup Tea Zone, launched Double Wood Taiwanese Kitchen in January. He says Bubblecup’s commercial success — with two locations in Columbia and others in St. Louis and Overland Park, Kansas — gave him the inspiration and breathing room to focus on a business venture that was even more personal.
“I started Double Wood because that is kind of my passion,” Chao says. “I want to provide really traditional Asian recipes and food for the people here.”
Chao’s wife, Yiching Lin, is the head chef and the heart behind the recipes. Many were passed down through her family, preserving flavors from her childhood in Taiwan. The restaurant’s name honors Lin’s contributions. “Double wood” is how her name is written in Chinese, with two characters for the word “wood.”
The menu features classics such as fried pork cutlet, three-cup chicken and braised pork, each served over rice with vegetables and a fried egg. These three elements form Double Wood’s signature bento boxes.
Bento, which originated in Japan and derives from a Mandarin word that means “convenient,” has spread throughout cultures. These portable meals can be purchased as grab-and-go options or made at home for work or school. The earliest version of bento boxes were prepared simply for hunters or travelers, but they grew in variety over centuries. Certain bento is meant to be eaten at the theater, while others feature stylized, detailed characters crafted out of food. In Taiwan, the Taiwan Railways Administration sells millions of ekiben, which are the bento boxes sold at train stations, every year.
Bento box containers are made out of wood, lacquerware, aluminum, glass or disposable materials. Double Wood’s boxes are intended to mimic the convenience of frozen TV dinners.
Bubblecup Tea Zone owner Tzuyang Chao (below left) shares Taiwanese culture via Double Wood’s prepared meals and bento boxes (below). Many of the recipes are from the family of his wife, Yiching Lin, who is the head chef and the heart behind the food.
“A lot of people don’t have time to eat, they don’t have time for cooking,” Chao says. “So I tried to provide the most convenient way you can taste Asian flavors. We freeze (the meals) immediately after cooking.”
When Double Wood started in January, it operated on a small scale, open to the local Asian community via a weekly order form shared on WeChat, Line and Instagram. At the time, Chao and Lin were making about 50 bento boxes each week. Now the dishes are also available on Doordash.
Chao and Lin fill orders from a private kitchen in the back of their Bubblecup location on Grindstone Parkway. They spend early mornings or late nights preparing meals for pick up or delivery.
That hard work has built a loyal following. Jiefei Cao and Lei Francisco are two of many repeat customers. Cao orders four to six boxes of her favorite — sesame oil chicken with corn, carrots and rice — every two weeks. She and her boyfriend are both doctoral students at the University of Missouri. The ready-to-heat meals ease the stress of cooking after long hours. “After a day of work and study we may just feel tired to cook food of our own,” Cao says. “So, the bento box provides some convenience for us.”
Francisco says basically everything on the menu is a go-to for her. She appreciates the bentos’ balance and freshness, as well as the unique offerings that fill a niche. “You don’t get that type of cuisine in town,” she says.
For Chao, food is more than fuel. It’s a connection.
“(Not everyone) has the chance and opportunity at touching base with other cultures,” Chao says. “And I think the easiest thing that can lead people to understand culture is food — the things you eat or the things you taste. Because people have to eat.”
Ever thought about helping pups find fur-ever homes? With insight from local rescue organizations, Vox separates fact from fiction.
BY ALLISON BEALMER
Since April, TikTok audiences have watched New York-based foster dog Tiki go from an “extremely fearful, shut-down foster dog” to an “extremely brave, inspiring foster dog” in about 30 days. Tiki and other fosters on social media (shout out Miss Peaches, Star and Peanut Butter and Jelly) have shown the vital role that fostering plays in the animal welfare system. Through fostering, a dog in need is placed with a temporary home. This alleviates pressure on shelter space and rescue resources, freeing up opportunities to help more animals in crisis. The dogs are likely rescues or going through big changes and need a safe space to learn the ins and outs of being a happy, healthy family pet — something they can’t learn in shelter facilities. In Columbia, rescue organizations such as Unchained Melodies, Central Missouri Humane Society and Columbia Second Chance rely on foster parents to help prepare the pets for a successful life in their forever homes.
“(Fostering) allows for them to learn house manners and house training, and getting that exposure to different things like other pets in the home, kids, whatever the case may be,” says Giulia Hall, executive director of Columbia Second Chance.
“It’s really fun to see it progress,” says Dana Pearson, a foster dog parent. “At first (my new foster dog) was really
scared, so he sat by my back door for a while. And then the next day, he’d come out a little more. And you could just see him coming out of his shell.”
It’s fine; we were already planning on crying today.
Fostering doesn’t require any special experience. It only requires the willingness to temporarily open your home and heart.
MYTH: My busy schedule or work hours mean I can’t foster a pet. Fact: Many pet owners have full-time jobs, so your schedule does not necessarily count you out. Foster dogs can benefit from practicing a human’s work schedule with you, allowing a smoother transition for their future adopters. The organization you work with will take your schedule into consideration and help you manage the foster’s daily life.
MYTH: I need a house or a yard to foster a dog.
Fact: There are plenty of dogs that thrive in apartments or in homes without yards. You will need to meet the dogs’ daily needs with going to the bathroom, physical exercise and mental stimulation — but those things can be accomplished via on-leash potty breaks, daily walks, training classes and socialization activities.
Hoagie (left) has a friendly, shy nature. Rye (right) loves to be with his people and is a star at settling into his crate. Tramp was a stray but learned how to trust and play. As of mid-June, Hoagie and Rye are available to adopt through Unchained Melodies Dog Rescue; Tramp has found his forever home.
Find out more about fostering. Central Missouri Humane Society: Franny Bruner, foster coordinator, foster@cmhspets. org Columbia Second Chance: info@ columbia2nd chance.org Unchained Melodies Dog Resuce: info@ unchainedmelodies. org, 573-8148073
Foster dogs need to practice going on car rides and adventures, too. Bring on the pup cups.
MYTH: Fostering costs a lot of money. Fact: All three rescue organizations cover the essential costs of food, vet care, monthly preventatives, crates, toys and other supplies. “We (Second Chance) provide everything,” Hall says. “I say, at most, it’s going to be gas money if you have to get them to an event or to an adoption.”
MYTH: I can’t foster because I already have pets in my home.
Fact: The organizations will help you evaluate how the foster dog will integrate with your family to make sure it’s a good match for everyone. It may take trial and error, but most times, it’s a good experience for the foster animal and your current pet(s) to be around each other. It can help all animals with socialization, manners and understanding different boundaries. “For my dogs, it’s kind of funny to watch them either love the new dog or not,” says Rebecca Hortsmann, a foster dog parent. As long as your pets are up-to-date on vaccinations, your pets could be wonderful foster siblings who play their own important role in the foster’s journey (We see you, Simon!). The organizations will
offer support with introductions and relationship management.
MYTH: I’m stuck with the animal I’m fostering, even if it is not working.
Fact: If at any time you feel like it’s not a good match, you can work with your organization for alternative solutions. The ultimate goal is to give the dogs a beneficial home life experience, so if the matchup isn’t working well, the organization will want to help. The organizations might see a way through with training support or decide on an alternative placement for the foster.
MYTH: I could never say goodbye to a foster animal.
Fact: It can definitely be a bittersweet transition when a foster dog finds its forever home, especially for a family’s first foster experiences. Yet it helps to remember the goal, which is to help dogs find their happily ever after. “It is rewarding to watch them go to their forever families,” says Heidi Campbell, a foster dog parent.
“We’ve had some foster dogs that come to us that are just scared of their own shadow, and with just time and patience and love, they find their forever families and they blossom into dogs that you know they can be.”
The Silvey Sisters capture the magic of the moment in their artwork for you to have and to hold.
BY RAPHAEL STERNADORI
One of the most special days of your life also can become a form of creative expression through florals, fashion and photography. In recent years, another artistic trend is on the rise: live wedding paintings.
Jessica Counihan (formerly Silvey) and Sarah Silvey, who refer to themselves as The Silvey Sisters, have been doing wedding paintings as a pair for about two years. Their packages are tailored to each sister’s unique skills: Counihan prefers painting with oil and does large-scale, scene-setting paintings for the bride and groom. Silvey works mostly with watercolor, painting live portraits of guests as party favors.
Before a wedding, the sisters will speak with the couple to finalize details. That could mean photo references to add any lost loved ones, or sentimental details from the nearlyweds, telling a story through the paintings.
“We’ll talk to the bride and groom, and we’ll find out what they like the most because, ultimately, we want them to be happy,” Counihan says. “Do you want your florals to be highlighted, do you want it to be just you two? Do you want a candid photo, or do you want a dipping kiss and drama?”
During the wedding ceremony, Counihan takes photographs as a reference to create a custom painting that guests and the bridal party can watch progress throughout the event. Another option is painting off-site. They can also use wedding photos to create paintings of wedding days already passed. Counihan says her oil paintings take 40 or more hours.
‘Odd and fearless’
The sisters grew up in De Soto, Missouri, and were homeschooled. In their free time, they enjoyed pursuing creative endeavors: drawing, pottery, painting and writing. Counihan specifically enjoyed
painting for school projects, winning first and second place in several national Oral Roberts University competitions.
“It just made us fearless,” Silvey says. “Odd and fearless.”
“We’re not afraid of peer pressure.,” Counihan says. “What are people going to do, make fun of us? Who cares?”
When their father met a live wedding painter at a birthday party, he approached Counihan with the idea of using her creative skills to make a few bucks on the side, but she knew she didn’t want to do it alone, so she recruited her sister.
“I found out that you work on the weekends, it’s a big party, you get fed delicious food,” Counihan says.
“The food was a big lure for us,” Silvey quips.
The sisters painted their first wedding for free. They say it was a nerve-racking experience — they didn’t want to royally screw up someone’s special day. But as time has gone on and they have gotten more experience, the job has become more comfortable.
Sarah Silvey (right) colors in the suit of a guest from a previous weekend’s wedding. Silvey’s focus is watercolor, and she loves to add details to faces.
“The watercolor portraits are a keepsake that all the guests can have instead of party favor that they’re just gonna throw away,” Counihan says.”It’s a little more personal.”
SAVE THEIR DATE
The Silvey Sisters offer three different wedding painting packages. To learn more, visit silveysistersfineart. com.
The sisters’ bond from spending so much time together is evident in their business and interactions. At times, they finish each other’s sentences, laugh at the same time and operate on a wavelength so united that you see them truly become The Silvey Sisters. “When we’re booked together, we feed off each other’s energy,” Counihan says. “It’s the best job ever.” “We’re just happier working together,” Silvey says.
Counihan says she likes the creativity of oil painting. “The fun thing is you can pick and choose,” Counihan says. “(You) can just look up photos from other things and put them with your painting.”
Matthew Ballou is a visual arts professor at the University of Missouri with experience in live wedding painting. Ballou says the importance of painting live comes from being present in the moment. “When the person is working right in front of you, your mirror neurons are firing, so you’re experiencing physically, in your motor cortex, the sense of movement, the sense of color happening, the sense of sight,” Ballou says. “Those are the things that happen in a live situation that can’t be replicated any other way.” Ballou compares live wedding paintings to the performing arts. He says, fun-
damentally, it’s a “performance of skill,” similar to watching football, a tattoo being designed, attending a concert or play. Live performance of art transfers creative ownership from the artist to the audience as well, Ballou says. “True art doesn’t happen until there’s an engagement with the audience,” Ballou says. “There’s the intention of the artist, there’s the intention of the viewer, and then the intention of the work itself. Then the work takes on its own manifestation.”
For now, wedding painting is only a side gig but the two hope to expand their business as they book more weddings. Counihan is a stay-at-home mom with her three children. Silvey works for MU.
Both are open to out-of-state weddings, loving the idea of travel. They recently painted their first wedding in Illinois. “Live wedding paintings add to the wedding itself,” Silvey says. “It adds something unique, fun and pretty. You have a really cool, bespoke piece of art that you can pass down. It’s cool to make something people value so highly. It’s very gratifying.”
Your curated guide of what to do in Columbia this month.
Disney’s A Little Mermaid
When all the gadgets and gizmos won’t keep your kids busy anymore this summer, try going under the sea. Come to where the people are at the Rhynsburger Theatre for the University of Missouri’s production of Disney’s A Little Mermaid 7:30 p.m. July 3 and 9-11; 2 p.m. July 5-6 and 12-13, Rhynsburger Theatre, $22; $16, groups of 8+ or children under 12; $60, family bundle of four (max two adults), jenningsjaba@ missouri.edu
The Battle of Chile
In the early 1970s, Chile’s president, Salvador Allende, was the figurehead of a peaceful socialist revolution. A small team of documentarians captured the violent countermovement, a military coup — aided by the CIA — that resulted in Allende’s death and Augusto Pinochet seizing power as dictator until 1990. The filmmakers were forced into exile and had to smuggle the film out of the country. As one of four programs in Ragtag Cinema’s series “Passport: Third Cinema,” the three-part The Battle of Chile provides an intimate, shocking experience of political upheaval. 7 p.m. July 9, parts 1 and 2; 7 p.m. July 16, part 3, Ragtag Cinema, $11, 573-443-4359
Grease
Calling all Pink Ladies and Burger Palace Boys. If Grease is the way you’ve been feeling, then hand-jive your way to TRYPS Children Theater’s PG-13 rendition of the classic musical. Catch up with Zuko, Sandy and the gang as they navigate life and love at Rydell High in the 1950s. 7 p.m. July 18; 2 and 7 p.m. July 19; 2 p.m. July 20, Columbia College Launer Auditorium, $15; $10, child, 573449-4536
Vintage & Vinyl Festival
Get ready for a vibrant day at this outdoor
vintage festival. Featuring more than 30 vendors, live music, DJs and local food trucks, it’s the perfect mix of nostalgia and celebration. 11 a.m. to 7 p.m. July 27, Logboat Brewery, free, 573-230-3305
The Columbia Art League asked: When was a time you felt wonder? A time you had to stop and catch your breath? Artists of any media are invited to submit works July 25 and 26 that explore amazement at the natural world. Exhibit: July 29 to Sept. 4; reception: 6 p.m. Aug. 8, Columbia Art League, free, 573-443-8838
Bring your tissues for this play, which won the 2018 Edgerton Foundation New Play Award and is based on a true story. In 1930, author E.M. Forster falls in love with Bob Buckingham, a police officer 23 years his junior. Fearing discovery, Forster marries Mary, leading to an interconnected, 40-year love triangle that explores the meaning of love and family. 7:30 p.m. Aug. 7-9 and 14-16; 2 p.m. Aug. 10, Talking Horse Productions, $22; $19.90, students and seniors, 573-607-1740
Missouri River Festival of the Arts
Float on down to Boonville’s historic Thespian Hall for the 50th anniversary of the oldest performing arts festival in the state. This year, the Friends of Historic Boonville invited Leonard Slatkin, an internationally recognized conductor and winner of the National Medal of the Arts, to lead the stage. Tickets go on sale in July. Aug. 21–23; Thespian Hall, 522 Main St., Boonville, 660-882-7977
Sugar Cookie Decorating Workshop
Got a sweet tooth? Come to this twohour workshop where you can learn expert royal icing techniques while
Find activities for kids, food trucks and live music to celebrate Independence Day at the city’s 73rd Fire in the Sky. And don’t forget the most important part: fireworks. At last year’s event (above), attendees claimed their viewing spots before the show. Bring your own blankets, chairs and snacks. Event starts at 6:30 p.m. July 4; fireworks at 9:15 p.m., Stephens Lake Park, free, 573- 874-7460
decorating four large sugar cookies to take home and share with the family. For ages 12 and up, this tasty experience led by Laurel Harlan from Kiss Me Cookie includes all supplies, a cupcake and beverage. 10 a.m. July 12, $69 per person, Plume, 573-356-0867
IDKHOW X Phantom Planet
Live music, cold beer and serious altrock energy — the heat is here for the summer. Catch I Don’t Know How But They Found Me (IDKHOW), the retroglam project from Dallon Weekes, and Phantom Planet, the legendary band behind “California,” for a night of high vibes and unforgettable performances in this installment of the concert series Central Bank Downtown Live! 8 p.m. July 8, Rose Park, $37-40, 573-874-1944
Uncruel Summer: A Girly Pop Dance Party
Think glitter, good vibes and pop princess perfection — it’s so Julia. Grab your besties and hit the dance floor for a night of nonstop bops from Taylor Swift, Sabrina Carpenter, Chappell Roan, Lady Gaga and more. 9 p.m. July 18, The Blue Note, $19.25, 573-874-1944
#BeUnderstood
Coolin’ Down with the Blues
Say goodbye to summer with smooth vibes and soulful sounds at this free outdoor concert. Enjoy a mini-festival feel with live jazz, R&B and blues from local and regional acts. With kids’ activities available, laid-back energy and music for the grown folks, all you need is a lawn chair and good company. 4 p.m. Aug. 3, Douglass Park, free, 573-874-7460
This one’s for the women with good taste and better playlists. The irresistible Emily Nenni is here to get your feelings up and moving with her genre of classic honky-tonk laced with soul, sass and rock ’n’ roll grit. With her powerhouse vocals and a whole lotta heart, she’s the kind of artist who’ll make you cry, laugh and dance — all in one set. 8 p.m. Aug. 8, Rose Music Hall, $22.85, 573-874-1944
Bee one with nature while enjoying concessions and a movie. July’s pick is The Bee Movie, following a worker bee that leaves its hive and bee-comes friends with a human bee-ing. And everything is awesome for August’s showing, The Lego Movie The Bee Movie: 8:45 p.m. July 11; The Lego Movie: 8:30 p.m. Aug. 8, Cosmo Park, free, 573-874-7460
Kids ages 4 to 15 can get downright messy in this obstacle course that will consist of walls, pipes, tires and, of course, mud. Participants receive a SPLAT T-shirt, medal and SPLAT bag. 8:30 a.m. July 12, Gans Creek Recreation Area, $30, advanced registration required, 573-874-7460
Whether you are ready to run or walk, this race is for everybody. The walk is a 5K, and the road races are 5K and 10K. When you’re done being a speedster, check out the other Show-Me games that weekend, including archery, rugby, gymnastics, mini golf and more. 8 a.m. July 27, Park Restaurant, $30, $35 after July 1, 573-874-7460
Ready, set, glow. Decorate your bike and take a night ride along an 8-mile illuminated trail from Flat Branch Park to Twin Lakes Recreation Area and back. Ride at your own pace and, once at the Twin Lakes Rec Area, enjoy s’mores by the bonfire and entertainment. 7 p.m. Aug. 23, Flat Branch Park, $18, 573-874-7460
PHOTOGRAPHY BY MEGAN SUNDBERG/ARCHIVE
Rose Music Hall turns its park into a juvenile funky town for the summertime Kids Disco each year. During the 2023 event, Amanda and Pablo Oleiro play with Luca Oleiro, who was 2 at the time. With Luca on his shoulders, Pablo transformed into an airplane and flew through clouds of bubbles. Other attendees grooved to music, leapfrogged in the bounce house and noshed on concessions. This year’s event will again feature DJ Requiem, who will spin hit records from many eras, and the kid-themed tunes of Mr. Benjamin and the Fun Band. While the little ones romp, adults can feast on food from Dada Döner and sip on brunch drinks like bloody marys, mimosas or orange juice — whatever fits your groove. It will be held from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. Aug. 17. Do the hustle to snag your tickets at rosemusichall.com.
Save a life. Don’t D rive H o M e buzze D. BUZZED DRIVING IS DRUNK DRIVING.