The Sentinel (Issue 3)

The newest Sentinel. Best one yet, but still plenty to work on.

The Sentinel (every week)

Yeah, I know it sounds too good to be true. The Sentinel traditionally only comes out every three weeks. That means you, the anxious reader, has to wait approximately 21 days. That means 21 days without news from the college by the lake. That means 21 days without finding out what is going on with ASNIC, the drama department so on and so forth.

Well, no more.

From now on the Sentinel website will be updated, weekly. Giving you, the anxious reader, your much needed fix.

So, stop whining and click here...

or...

Here.

Bourgeois (or Bushwa?) Suffering

This post is about suffering, and all the forms that it manifests in my daily life...
For instance, yesterday, I was biking to a coffee shop. I was going to meet my brother and just hang out and enjoy a nice cup of coffee.

I had this nice white long-sleeved tee-shirt on. It was really nice, really comfortable and really good looking. I felt happy to be wearing this shirt.

So, like I said I was biking. Going along, riding next to this beautiful lake, just enjoying it all.

And then, you know what happened?

These freaking bugs came out of now where. Literally thousand upon thousands of these dumb obnoxious worthless gnats.

And you know what they did?

They didn't get out of my way. They plastered themselves against my face, my hair, my nice white shirt, my pants, my eyes.

I could barely see, I could barely continue forward.

And that isn't even the worst part.

The worst part, was that when I finally reached my destination, I tried to brush them off, and they splattered all over my beautiful, pure white shirt. Leaving all these ugly yellow blood marks.

The nerve.

This is just one instance of the daily suffering that I'm forced to endure.
Another great example.

About a month ago I go a new computer. With the new computer came a new I-pod, which was part of the whole deal. Well, I decided to engrave something on the back of my I-pod. After thinking about it long and hard, I decided I wanted to write Bourgeois Suffering. Bourgeois is a french word that means middle-class. I figured that putting this on the back of my I-pod would be a good reminder to me and others about the daily hardships I'm forced to face living in North Idaho. See above.

Well, not being French, and not understanding how to spell French words, I decided to Google and determine the most appropriate way to spell 'Bourgeois' (as you can see, I learned how to spell it correctly, alas too little too late).

Being hopelessly American I spelled it Bushwa (it makes sense, if you think about it).
So, I Googled it, just to double check.

That didn't help at all, all the dictionaries told me 'Bushwa' means nonsense or bullshit. Well, I decided that the online dictionaries didn't know what they were talking about. So I went ahead and got Bushwa Suffering engraved on my I-pod.
Now, you might say this is my fault.

It's not.

Let me explain how this is just another example of my daily suffering.

I live in North Idaho. Because I live here I know next to nothing about French. I took Spanish in school. Spanish isn't French. French words are different than Spanish words, and Spanish words are different than English words.

I'm a victim of ignorance.

Henry B. Adams said, “Nothing in education is so astonishing as the amount of ignorance it accumulates in the form of inert facts.”
I couldn't have said it better myself.

See, clearly I have been the victim of a faulty education.

So, don't be pointing your fingers at me saying that I'm full of Bushwa. It's just not the case. I am suffering. Deeply suffering, from a lack of knowledge, brought on by “inert facts.”

And yes, there are still bugs in my nose.

Note: Pema Chodron, a Tibetan Buddhist nun, coined the phrase Bourgeois Suffering. Obviously she doesn't have anything on me in the suffering department.

Institutionalized Blindness

I live in Northern Idaho. I love it here, it's beautiful and peaceful.
For me at least.
A few weeks ago, Rachel Dolezlal, an art teacher at the local college (North Idaho Community College) found a noose on here porch. Dolezal is mixed race and a human rights advocate. She is strong and not quite about her work here.
And she has become a target for hate groups. The community response here was typical, people were outraged. Angry that that kind of thing still happens in this area.
And its terrible. And people should be outraged.

But we are missing something. I couldn't put my finger on it for a long time. Everyone is supportive. Everyone is committed to driving hate and racism out of this area. But something felt wrong.

And then I went to the Action Against Hate benefit dinner (through Gonzaga University). It was a great event, and, don't get me wrong, the organization behind it is doing good stuff.

But, it epitomized the problem, in my mind.

Every speaker, every person honored (minus one) was white. There were few colored people in the audience. There were none up on the stage. It was a bunch of well meaning white men(mostly men) talking about all the great work they had done.

And, yes admitting there was a lot more work to be done.

But, the irony was irresistible. And no one talked about it. No one brought it up. Not a single speaker recognized their innate inability to truly feel what someone of color feels.

I'm white. I don't know what it's like to be discriminated against (I'm also a man, so I've got a lot going for me). So, how can I, a white male, really 'get' what it's like to be black? Or native American? Or Asian? Or any of the other of a multitude of marginalized groups?

In my mind that is the problem currently. People are doing wonderful work. People are strongly against racism. Against hate. Discrimination. All of that. But, the institutions, the processes that surround the good work being done, are fundamentally flawed. They are fundamentally discriminatory. And people don't want to, or simply can't reflect on the institutions they are caught up in.

And, like I said, I'm white. So everything I observe, everything I think is colored (bad pun) by this. And quite possibly everything I've said isn't true, possibly I'm full of it and don't know what I'm talking about. Hopefully, however, I have the humility to recognize this and defer to the knowledge and life experience of someone who has actually been discriminated against, who has actually been hated for something as ridiculous as the color of their skin.

The NIC Sentinel (Issue 2)

This is the second issue of the Sentinel. It looks good. Photos printed well etc. It was a short one (only 16 pages) but overall I'm happy with it.

The next one, which comes out on Oct. 26, is going to be much longer (24 pages, and possibly a tab section). So we really don't have that much turn around time. I'm excited though.

I love my job right now. It feels so good to be part of a paper. I love seeing it go from rough (or no) ideas to a reality that you can hold in your hand. Really a unique and wonderful experience.

Anyways, comments are always welcome.

Again, these are just the pages I designed.


The front page...

... just an inside opinion page, nothing special, although the art work is good...

.. again inside page...

... the volleyball page. As you can see they are currently ranked No. 1 in the nation...

... this is quite possibly my favorite page ever. It all worked out, and despite my fears it printed great.