Skip to Content, Navigation, or Footer.
The Observer
Monday, June 15, 2026
Grad Ads
Observer Store Subscribe
The Observer

Opinion

The Observer

Food for thought

By The Observer · Monday, Nov. 12, 2012

After two weeks of intense studying - you can definitely sense around campus Thanksgiving break is just around the corner - I finally feel I have a couple of days to get my life back on track. And, when I say "life" I mean organize my room, clean my kitchen and apartment common area, catch up on some of my favorite shows and cook. Yes, cook. For the past weeks, my diet has consisted of strawberry NutriGrain bars, Easy Mac bowls, lots of coffee and the occasional Subway, Burger King or Taco Bell quick meal at LaFun. I haven't had the time just to sit down and cook something I really want to eat. So, as I was walking back home from my 2 p.m. class on Tuesday, knowing I had nothing to hand in or prepare for today, I decided I would endeavor into cooking a healthy, delicious, Instagram picture-worthy meal. I would relax, unwind and finally stop my crazy and hectic eating habits - for a day or two at least. Once home, I placed all of the groceries I had in my fridge in the kitchen counter. Just looking at them made me want to start mixing different ingredients right at the moment. However, before making an unappetizing mess - I seriously lack knowledge and creativity in the kitchen - I decided to consult with my loyal and super-chic friend, the Londoner. "Who's the Londoner?" you might ask. A guilty blog-addict, the Londoner is one of the many websites I follow on a daily basis. It's the blog of a British marketing consultant in her twenty-somethings named Rose. In it she posts about fashion, travel, things to do in London and, of course, food. Rose has the best recipes. They are easy to make, mouth-watering plates that will definitely impress your family, friends and even yourself. From creative versions of the traditional hamburger to her most popular "Slutty Brownies," you will find all kinds of delicious ideas in the Londoner. So, if you just finished the most of your schoolwork due before Thanksgiving like me or will in a couple of days or so, take a peek at the Londonder's recipes and let them inspire you. I'm still debating between her "Avocado Spaghetti" or her "Spicy Lemon Chicken Wrap". Decisions, decisions...  

The Observer

The human dignity of campus workers

By The Observer · Monday, Nov. 12, 2012

"Be the change you want to see," be "pro-life" and support worker rights - what do these three ideas have in common? More than we might realize. This past Friday night at the Peace House, I had the wonderful opportunity to gather with a group of my fellow Notre Dame students who were involved with the Campus Action Labor Project for an evening of fellowship and a conversation about the dignity of workers. There were so many new faces and I was humbled to meet so many other students who care about labor justice, despite our differences. Throughout our conversation, a central idea that we all agreed on was the significant way that we as students can promote the dignity of workers by how we relate to the many who work daily for us here on campus. Many students shared encouraging stories of ways that they had witnessed individual students or entire student communities show honor and care for those who serve us by working for Notre Dame. As a student who is deeply committed to upholding the human dignity of workers who are often overlooked or underappreciated, I was inspired by these positive examples that model how we ought to relate to those who work for us in a spirit of solidarity. Perhaps the most important question I could be asking right now is not about how "the University" is upholding the dignity of workers, but rather, how am I loving those who make my education possible through their work on a daily basis? I am not suggesting that we don't need to care about where Notre Dame invests its money or how the workers are treated in factories that produce the Adidas apparel we proudly don at our football games. But perhaps the best place to start is with ourselves and our own attitudes. The stories I heard on Friday night were intentional gestures of love to our workers that can reflect what we believe, and ultimately, what Notre Dame students believe. In many ways, this University has intentionally taught us that the dignity of the human person is of utmost importance. We have the opportunity to demonstrate this belief by making loving gestures toward workers more frequently in our own community. The people who work for us are part of the Notre Dame family. They make our education possible just like our professors and benefactors do. And yet, we can all forget to care for them at times. It doesn't have to be that way. To me, there seems no more appropriate way to "be the change you want to see." I know I need to hear this. As Notre Dame students, we can demonstrate our concern for our fellow brothers and sisters who do the dirty work on our behalf and thus speak volumes about our desire for worker rights to be upheld in the business world. And we can be transformed in the process. As a Catholic, this is an important part of what it means to me to call myself "pro-life."   Annie DeMott is a senior theology major and education, schooling and society minor. She can be reached at ademott@nd.edu     The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.

The Observer

Quotation remarks

By The Observer · Monday, Nov. 12, 2012

I really love quotes. I have Word documents, Moleskines, OneNote presentations and numerous iPhone notes full of them. I first fell in love with quotes in high school when, as I asked numerous theological and philosophical questions of myself and my faith, my mentor, Mr. Yeazell, countered with ideas from just about everyone - from Dr. Seuss to the Pope. These short little nuggets of wisdom helped me see difficult concepts in meaningful ways. And since then, I have made it a point to have them ready just in case I can help others to see, too. Not only are they words of wisdom for me, but mantras to live by, words that guide how I act in and think about the world.

The Observer

Honoring the veterans

By The Observer · Sunday, Nov. 11, 2012

The University of Notre Dame and the U.S. Military share a very proud history. For more than 60 years, students at the University of Notre Dame have trained as cadets and midshipmen and commission as officers in the Army, Marines, Navy and Air Force. Many Notre Dame graduates have gone on to serve distinguished careers in the Armed Forces, along with millions of other Americans. Veterans Day is a day that we remember the sacrifices of these brave men and women. Here at Notre Dame, the Cadets and Midshipmen in the Army, Navy, and Air Force ROTC units show their respect for all veterans during our annual Veterans Day Vigil and Ceremony. The Vigil takes place at Clarke Memorial Fountain, more commonly known as Stonehenge, and lasts 24 hours, beginning yesterday evening at 4 p.m., and ending this evening at 4 p.m. This year, our annual Veterans Day Ceremony begins at 5 p.m., also at the Clarke Memorial Fountain. We stand guard there to show that we will never forget the sacrifices that the men and women of the U.S. Military have made for the freedoms that we all share and are truly blessed to have. While you are walking by Clarke Memorial today and see your fellow students standing guard, or attending the ceremony this evening, we respectfully ask that you take a moment out of your day to reflect and give thanks to those who have served, those who are serving, and those who will serve in the defense of this great Nation. Thank you. Ted Spinelli Army ROTC senior off campus Nov. 11 Patrick Bowlds Air Force ROTC senior off campus Nov. 11 Kevin Hickey Navy ROTC senior off campus Nov. 11 Mike Dompierre Army ROTC senior off campus Nov. 11

The Observer

Vegetarian nightmare

By The Observer · Sunday, Nov. 11, 2012

Thanksgiving: The one day a year where you can get away with eating literally all day long and doing nothing but sitting around feeling like you're going to explode. Turkey, stuffing, cranberries, sweet potatoes topped with marshmallows, green bean casserole ... Sounds like heaven, right? Wrong. Thanksgiving is an organic-loving vegetarian's nightmare. Watching the toddler-sized bird being baked, fried or browned, then stuffed and pulled apart ... I have to leave the room to keep my breakfast down. It's not even that I feel bad for the turkeys (although baby turkeys are adorable; Google it and see) - I just can't stand the muscle-y, dripping-wet texture and the irrational thought that I will accidentally bite into a bone. Then, there is the preservative-filled "bread" that has been soaking in the bird's bodily fluids for hours, appropriately named stuffing, the cranberries that slide out of the can in perfect cylindrical shape, still ribbed from the can's contours, the browned marshmallows ruining perfectly delicious and healthy sweet potatoes, green bean casserole burying the actual green beans in fried onions, fat and oil ... I think I'll pass. However, it's just awkward to sit there with an empty plate while everyone else stuffs their faces, not to mention it is a huge insult to the cook. So whenever we travel to see family for Thanksgiving, I am forced to fill my plate with a little bit of everything and sit there hiding my scowl, nibbling and moving food around to give the appearance that maybe I had too many snacks during the day and can't eat another bite ... as I suppress my growling stomach.            Come to my house for Thanksgiving and I guarantee you will be pleasantly surprised. Not only do I cook half the food myself, but also it is fresh, natural and (partly) meat-free. Of course, my family rolls their eyes at my refusal to participate in the ritualistic eating of the turkey, but I know they secretly love my pumpkin ravioli, butternut squash and walnut risotto, sautéed green beans with bacon (confession time: I am a shameless bacon-loving 'vegetarian') and mashed sweet potatoes dusted with cinnamon sugar. This feast of healthy deliciousness is absolutely as fulfilling as the typical American spread, if not more. So next Thursday as you're slicing your gelatinous "cranberries" and violating your turkey by stuffing it with perfectly cubed bread, you'll wish you were at my table. Now who wants some pumpkin pie? Contact Maddie Daly at mdaly6@nd.edu The views expressed in the Inside Column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.

The Observer

Who we are and what we do

By The Observer · Sunday, Nov. 11, 2012

How do you define yourself? Often, we describe who we are by stating what we do. Rene Descartes associated his actions as a philosopher with his being as an individual when he said, "I think, therefore I am." Many of us view our being in similar ways: "I study biology, therefore I am," or "I run track, therefore I am," etc. Being and doing are not identical, though. We still are who we are even when we are not doing what we do. I believe being is even more important than doing because we can do the things we do only because of who we are. One of my friends recently wrote a blog post for a contest in which she encouraged her readers to stop "doing" and start "being." I agree with her because I believe that the differences in what we do matter far less than the similarities in who we are when it comes to how we should relate to each other. We are all human beings living human lives, and we must never let actions, whether good or bad, ours or someone else's, overshadow this fact. For example, most of the rhetoric exchanged between Obama and Romney during the recent presidential election had to do with jobs. They would have us think that people with jobs are happy and fulfilled because they contribute to the greater good of society and provide for their material wants and those of their families. People without jobs are pitiable fellows who face fear everywhere they go because of their inability to ensure a stable material future for themselves and their loved ones. (And if you fall into the second group, it's the other guy's fault.) As you might have guessed, I do not think this is a full and accurate picture of American life. I will now tell a story to help explain why. About a year ago, when I went to visit my sister at college in Philadelphia, I went for a morning run down by the Schuylkill River. (Don't ask me how that's pronounced; I'm still not quite sure.) It was a beautiful day, and I was enjoying the fine weather and picturesque scenery of the waterfront. Soon, I ran by a homeless woman who had just gotten up after sleeping on a bench by the river. I noticed she was smiling and cheerfully singing to herself as she folded up the elements of her makeshift bed and put them into her backpack. This woman probably didn't have a job. Therefore, it is likely that she did not perform the same functions and acquire the same means of purchasing material comforts that the employed visitors to the river did. Despite not doing those things, though, she still had as much right to be there and experience the beauty of the river as anyone else, and she seemed to be taking as much joy from it as all of the people around her, if not more. In this way, she was no different from the wealthiest person in Philadelphia. Both live human lives in which they experience joys and sorrows. Make no mistake: The homeless face extremely difficult challenges that the rich and even the middle class never experience and can only partially understand, but they are also spared the unique disorders and discomforts brought on by wealth. Uninterrupted happiness belongs to no one. We are all humans, and as such, we all share the ups and downs of human life. This notion could change the way we think about jobs and other subjects of political debates. People do not "earn" the right to a living by doing things that others value. Instead, they deserve to be offered a productive outlet for the creative powers they possess by virtue of being human. I did not hear either Obama or Romney talk enough about creating jobs that affirmed human dignity instead of degrading and instrumentalizing it. While America has created plenty of jobs, robots and computers do most of them. We need to find means of production that augment and harness the human spark within workers instead of ignoring it and turning those we don't replace with robots into robots themselves.   I hope President Obama and all of our other newly elected and re-elected leaders can look at things from this perspective when considering which legislation to enact. I also hope that we ourselves can use this insight to inform the way we treat our "neighbors." I know that I have failed in this regard. Just as a new term brings new hope to President Obama, each new day brings new hope for us. Let's all use our next opportunities wisely. Elliott Pearce can be reached at Elliott.A.Pearce.12@nd.edu The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.

The Observer

The Irish through English eyes

By The Observer · Sunday, Nov. 11, 2012

As an Englishman, it pains me to say much of what you are about to read. I've visited the States a few times now, and I didn't think there could be that much left in American culture that held any real surprises. That was, until my friend in town said he'd got tickets to the game last Saturday. He explained the "Fighting Irish" were something called "Eight-and-Zero" - which apparently was extremely unusual and important.   So much so that within a day or two of arriving in South Bend, I'd been taught that instead of using commonplace phrases like "Hi" and "See ya later," I was to mutter "Irish, Irish, Irish." This novel practice, he told me, came from an incident when one of the Holy Fathers of Notre Dame was attending a game some years back. He found he was standing next to a grizzle-chinned fan, who was stood alone and evidently talking to himself. The good father wondered whether he'd had the misfortune to run into a schizophrenic, or worse still, a man possessed. But as he moved closer, he realised that if the guy was possessed, it had to be by some demonic leprechaun, since he was repeating over and over, "Irish, Irish, Irish, Irish ..." Instead, our hearty priest concluded that the man was probably the sanest person in the park, and he took to doing the same if ever he had a moment to spare. By the time we were climbing the stairs to the press box - somewhere several thousand feet above the field - to watch the Irish take on the Pitt Panthers, I'd been well-briefed on what I was about to witness. I had also been beguiled into stepping into the bookstore shop, where I had been separated from no less than 170 of my hard-earned dollars (and I'd just gone in for a t-shirt). So I felt that if I didn't yet have any emotional investment in the Irish, I had at least made something like a financial one. Irish, Irish, Irish, Irish ... We reckon ourselves great sports fans back over the Pond, but frankly, after Saturday, I don't think we have any clue. Where are our bands? Where are our flags? Where is our fighter-jet fly-by? Where is our national anthem? (Okay, we have one of those.) But where is our second national anthem? And most importantly, where are our cheerleaders? The most fun English fans have at a game is getting drunk, insulting the rival fans' mothers and crushing each other to death. So it was a bewildering experience to see what can be done to make a football game such a grand spectacle. (I mean, sideways-marching xylophone players - dozens of them!)   Was it actual pride I was feeling when attempting to sing along to the Star-Spangled Banner, trying to remember exactly which great-grandparent it was my mom had told me was American? I think so. (Although I forgot to cover my heart with my hat - sorry about that.) Irish, Irish, Irish, Irish ... And then the game. The clock ticked its way through the third quarter and the score was still at 20-6. I felt faint embarrassment that I'd managed to jinx Notre Dame's winning streak. Meanwhile my friend was dying inside. "There's still time," he said, while his doubting English friend smiled and pitied such blind faith. But a late third quarter prayer to Touchdown Jesus seemed to do the trick, and the Irish proved why they come with their combative descriptor. By the time the lads had levelled it back to 20-20, I was a changed man - I believed. I had seen the light, and the light was green. Irish, Irish, Irish, Irish ... Then came overtime - a fumbled touchdown, a missed Panthers field-goal (how the Holy Mother loves her children!), and then - sweet glory - a rushin' touchdown and the Irish had done it again.   When Jesus comes back, South Benders are going to have a problem - could the crowd here really be more excited by the Second Coming than they were by the score that would take them to "Nine-and-Zero"? I fear there may be stern words if you can't find something a little extra. Still, even to an ignorant Englishman, it was clear that there is something special about this place. About this team. Could they be? Surely they must be.   A "Team of Destiny"? Really? I just don't know. It's too hard to think straight with all the voices in my head. Irish, Irish, Irish, Irish, Irish ... Theo Brun recently completed a solo bicycle journey from Hong Kong to Norfolk, England. He visited campus to talk about it and stayed for the Pitt game. He can be reached at theobrun@gmail.com The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.

The Observer

The color of success

By The Observer · Sunday, Nov. 11, 2012

This past week while tutoring off-campus, one of the kids I work with asked me this question: "Did you ever envision yourself going to Notre Dame?" He said "Notre Dame" with widened eyes and an awe-filled tone. We were working on a math problem and this question caught me off guard. This kid, Marquise, is in the fifth grade and is one of the most boisterous kids I've ever met. So I was thrilled and alarmed when he was suddenly serious and finally had a genuine interest in what I had to say. However, I was not confused. I knew exactly why Marquise asked me that question. Like him, I am black and this fact challenges his idea of what a Notre Dame student can be. Marquise asked me this question because, to him, Notre Dame represents a giant orb of white grandeur that is not easily penetrable by people like us. So when he sees someone who looks like him and shares his identity at such an institution, it both confuses and inspires him. This probe into Marquise's reasoning is not mere presupposition, rather the result of its similarity to my own educational experiences. I recall being Marquise's age and seeing very few people who looked like me in college, nonetheless in authoritative positions. This, of course, is due to many historical, structural and social factors - definitely not some pseudoscientific explanation of inferiority. I attended a nearly all-black grade school of about 200 children. All of the teachers were white. However, it wasn't their whiteness that was alarming; it was the fact that their race contradicted ours. The visual contrast was striking: a classroom of 30 black children with a white teacher up front, giving commands. Over time, kids may notice this difference and wonder: "Why is the teacher always white? Is that how it is supposed to be?" This dominant visual is also seen outside of the classroom setting. We've all seen the proverbial photo of a white volunteer in a crowd of African children. Sure, this is touching, but what is really being perpetuated by this image? Think of the implications from the perspective of a black child, who may incur subconscious dissonance: "I look like the people who are being helped. Do I really need to be helped? The white person is in power." I question if this causes self-doubt, but I do believe it imparts a false notion of the color of success and speculation regarding the position of a person of color in society. Are we always just the ones to be taught or helped? The visual and cultural disproportion I experienced combined with media output of mainly white images of success and power cultivated the incorrect assumption that power was the domain of white people. An accumulation of white images of power and success can perpetuate a false notion of white superiority in children of color. The racial and cultural disconnect in my experiences of being taught or helped had been mirrored in Marquise's experiences; so much so that he is incredulous at the idea of a black person attending Notre Dame and being an authoritative figure. Our race and culture helps shape our experiences, ideas and perspectives. A lack of cultural sensitivity does no good when educating children of color. In my grade school, no mention was ever made of anything unrelated to white culture or history and Black History Month was vehemently ignored. Kids can notice a disregard of their culture and the accompanying championing of people who are not like them. Marquise's question displayed that his ideas of just who can succeed had been impacted by his amassed observations of a tendency for positions of power to be held by whites. People of color have the opportunity to challenge this notion and serve as inspiration and leaders for youth in their communities. It is also imperative that whites recognize the fallacy of color blindness and adapt a mechanism of cultural sensitivity and literacy and an awareness of the very visible power structure that presents itself when mentoring or teaching in settings where children of color are in the majority. Overall, Marquise's question revealed his cumulative perspective of how successful a black person could be in a world dominated by whiteness. A delusional image of success can be overcome by providing kids with more positive images of people who look like them - different ideas of what success, power and authority look like. Students in largely minority classrooms could also benefit from culturally literate instructors and curriculum that recognizes the legitimacy of their identity. My answer to Marquise's question? "No, I didn't envision myself coming to Notre Dame. I didn't think I was good enough. But, guess what? I'm here and you can be, too." Leila Green can be reached at lgreen2@nd.edu     The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.  

The Observer

My own two hands

By The Observer · Sunday, Nov. 11, 2012

On Saturday I made two full-size, you-can-sit-down-at-them picnic tables. I woke up at 9:30 a.m. and started working on them with two classmates in the West Lake Hall workshop. It's been a long time since I've built something tangible. Most of my college career has been filled with conceptual tasks. I write a lot of papers and, as a design major, I craft a lot of two-dimensional media (posters, books, screens), but it's been a long time since I have actually built something useful. I first learned to use power tools when I was 10 out of necessity. I participated in a program called Destination Imagination (D.I.), which according to their mission statement seeks "to be the global leader in teaching the creative process from imagination to innovation." I remember it more as an excuse to build cool stuff. As a fifth grader, I was part of a five-person team that built a makeshift garbage truck (a highly modified Tycko RC remote control car) that could release cheese (weighted PVC pipe) down the back of the garbage truck, which was effectively a large ramp. A K'nex motor that I had wired to a remote control trigger would release the cheese and it would roll across a game board into a large dumpster we had fashioned from an old refrigerator box. We used a table saw to cut the board for the ramp and an electric drill to make the housing for the K'nex motor. Using those tools was probably the highlight of my fifth grade education. The challenge we completed was called It's Your Move, and we had to create a vehicle that could project objects from certain points on a game board into some sort of receptacle outside the board. We could not touch the vehicle and we had to stand at least eight feet from the edge of the game board. All the while we had to perform a skit relating our actions to some semblance of a narrative. As a group of fifth grade boys, we were naturally the Monkey Men Garbage Company - a rag-tag group comprised of an ex-opera singer, a surfer dude, and a talking rotten banana - who narrated their daily route and spouted facts about trash and recycling along the way. I still take pride in that garbage truck. It currently sits above the rafters in my dad's garage. There is something special about building an object. Words on a page seem fleeting, conversations are rarely recorded, and thoughts are gone in an instant. But a physical object like a table is much more permanent. At the end of the day it is something to be proud of, something I can point to and say, "I made that with my own two hands."  

The Observer

Time not wasted

By The Observer · Sunday, Nov. 11, 2012

I have approximately twenty minutes until I need to leave for my next class, but these twenty minutes are not enough for me to actually get anything productive done.   I can't take a nap because the optimal nap time is around 23 minutes, and that doesn't even include the time it takes to fall asleep. So, by the time I actually fell asleep, those twenty minutes I had would already be over - wasted. I can't start writing a paper because what if I get on a roll, just to be interrupted by my next class? I can't start on another subject like chemistry because by the time I find my notebook and folder and print out whatever I need to print out, it will be time to leave. I can't take a shower because there is no way I would be ready to go to class on time. I can't clean my room because that would take hours. So I'm left doing nothing, nothing at all, except sitting on the computer and wasting time on Facebook or Pinterest. That is what usually happens. But today I will try to be productive. I decided that I should attempt to finish my column in these twenty minutes. I doubt that this will actually work because I now have sixteen minutes left - not nearly enough time for 500 more words, but I can try. If I do finish this column, these twenty minutes were not wasted. Even if I don't finish this column, it's good that I got a head start, so I did use these twenty minutes wisely. But it would irk me if I have to stop right in the middle of my column and come back to it later -  Writing it in one sitting is easier because my voice stays the same throughout. Sometimes I'll start writing a paper for class and get interrupted, and when I come back to it later, I'm in such a different state of mind that the paper no longer flows well. Nonetheless, I've heard that Ernest Hemingway always stopped in the middle of a really good sentence, so that when he started again he would start with those same creative juices flowing. There was never an opportunity for writer's block, because he left himself a perfect place to start every time. He said, "The best way is always to stop [writing] when you are going good and when you know what will happen next ... you will never be stuck." Maybe this works for Hemingway, but it doesn't work for me. If I'm on a roll, I'd rather just finish that paragraph or section or column. I don't want to stop mid-thought. I don't want to have to put my pen down when twenty minutes are over. Since I hate stopping in the middle of something, I know I have to finish this column within the next nine minutes. The extra motivation helps me write this column without distraction - no Facebook or Twitter or Tumblr, no texting or calling. Perhaps having these little pieces of time is a good thing: It gives a concrete deadline. I now have eight minutes of my twenty minutes left, and just over a hundred words to go. This is actually doable. So, these twenty minutes were put to good use, but there are so many other little chunks of time throughout the week that are not. If I added all of them up, I'd probably have at least four extra hours of time. And for college students like myself who never seem to have enough hours in a day, four hours would be splendid. I guess utilizing these bits of time can be achieved through little things - writing a short paper, doing a math problem or reading a chapter of a book. The 20- or 30-minute deadline would be the motivation since it seems that almost everyone works best under pressure. So maybe these awkward extra 20 or 30 minutes here or there are useful after all. Who knew? My column is finished with two minutes to spare. Granted, I'll go back and revise, but that is usually done in two sittings anyway. Now, what to do with these extra two minutes? I wouldn't want to waste them. Maybe I'll just check Facebook. Bridget Galassini is a freshman. She can be reached at bgalassi@nd.edu The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.

The Observer

Christmas in October

By The Observer · Wednesday, Nov. 7, 2012

Let me preface the following by explaining that I love Christmas. I love the music, lights and time I get to spend with my family.

The Observer

Something better than contraception

By The Observer · Wednesday, Nov. 7, 2012

As a female member of the Notre Dame family, I want to first say that I support whatever treatment is chosen for relief from endometriosis. It is a horrible disease that often goes undiagnosed for a long time. I know this from studying endometriosis this summer. I would also like to offer an alternative.  

The Observer

An instagambit

By The Observer · Wednesday, Nov. 7, 2012

If your Instagram feed is filled with pictures of your face, you're doing it wrong.

The Observer

What good lies in November?

By The Observer · Wednesday, Nov. 7, 2012

Our weaknesses and limitations are generally realities we seek to minimize, if not completely ignore. Perhaps that is what makes November such a spiritually uncomfortable month.

The Observer

Saviors in Ohio

By The Observer · Monday, Nov. 5, 2012

I think everyone has had experiences that seem dire, but can be looked back at in a better light later in hindsight. A recent one for me occurred two Saturdays ago. I woke up at 9:30 a.m. to make the hour-and-a-half-long drive to Bryan, Ohio, just across the border, to renew my license at the BMV before it expired on Nov. 19, my 21st birthday (start thinking of birthday gifts now, please). Everything was going fine. I made it there safely, got my new license and hit the road, ready to head back to Notre Dame to watch the Irish beat the Sooners that night. Of course, nothing ever goes directly according to plan. About a half-mile down the road on my way back, my car slowed to a complete stop. I later found out it was a broken fuel pump that caused the problem, but I couldn't get it fixed at that time because no mechanic was open until Monday. So I was stranded without a car 100 miles east of South Bend and two and a half hours northwest of my home near Columbus with nobody nearby to help. My dad began the drive to pick me up as my car was towed to a local auto shop. I planned to simply wait out the few hours it would take for him to get there by walking to a restaurant in Bryan to grab a meal and watch college football. But in the parking lot of the auto shop, a middle-aged couple, both wearing Notre Dame sweatshirts, was dropping one of its cars off to be repaired. On the spot, they invited me to their home a few miles away to have some food. We had a great conversation about each other's lives, our families, and, of course, Irish football. I then helped them move some furniture items they needed transported to a local storage space, and before I knew it, my dad was in Bryan, ready to bring me back to Notre Dame. On Friday, one of my friends was able to take me back to Bryan so I could pick up my fixed car. It, thankfully, worked well. After all was said and done, I'd wasted about eight total hours of my time - five stuck in Bryan on Saturday and three to drive there and back Friday. It also cost almost $600 to fix my car, which is exciting. But at least I was able to get to know some great people, which is what, in my opinion, life is all about. Thanks a lot, Bob and Sue. And, oh yeah ... Go Irish.  

The Observer

My race and my rhetoric

By The Observer · Monday, Nov. 5, 2012

Few people are aware of the fact that, when Notre Dame's Program of Liberal Studies was founded in 1950, University President Fr. John J. Cavanaugh intended for the program to eventually take over the entire Arts College. As the program's founder, Otto Bird, once put it, "Such an education aims at paideia." This paedeia constitutes a kind of general knowledge "that makes not the scientist or specialist, but the fully human person." Bird identified man in his rational capacity as "a talking, thinking, observing, measuring and worshipping animal. To educate man is to train him in the use of these various faculties so that the faculties can perform their work easily and well. Education in this sense ... is initiation into manhood." This education, however, must have a context. "Man is not only a creature endowed with certain faculties. He is also a creature with a heritage... In other words, man is born into a tradition, in our case the tradition of Western Christendom, and, if he is to become fully himself, he must be initiated into this tradition. It provides the context for the work of his various faculties." The General Program, as it was known at the time of its founding, sought to cultivate Notre Dame men in their rational capacity and to initiate them into their cultural heritage, as both Catholics and as members of Western Civilization. For those of us who value or come from diverse peoples and cultures, such an education may seem jarring at first. When Mortimer Adler, a friend of Professor Bird, was asked why he didn't include any black authors in his list of the Great Books of the Western World, he simply responded, "They didn't write any good books." In the midst of Affirmative Action debates, we are reminded of past injustices to minority groups in America and in Western Civilization. Many consider these injustices and call for restitution. Racial and cultural diversity must be actively promoted, because social structures privilege certain majorities. In an affirmative action culture, minorities will always be at a cultural advantage. I look back on my college application as an excellent example. My father's family is from Guam. That makes me half Chamorro. I wrote my college application essay about that culture, although, admittedly, I was largely out of touch with that part of my racial heritage. I walked about walking along quiet beach of Rititian, pondering Chamorro legends and the feet of my ancestors that walked in that sand generations before me. The taotaomona are the ancient Chamorro spirits that protect the jungles against unwanted visitors. Four years ago I wrote, "It wasn't the power that intrigued me. It was the ancient Chamorros themselves. The sand that I was walking on was the sand that they had once walked on. They once inhabited the caves I had visited." I provided evidence for the accusations made by those against Affirmative Action: I overemphasized my race in order to get an edge in college admissions. But can racial heritage be a credential when applying for college? I firmly reject the notion that racial diversity ought to be increased through a collective societal guilt. This fails to recognize many of the inherent goods that can come from minority cultures: intense family relations and traditions, a connection to the land and its peoples, a link between blood and language, literature, and culture. I am against affirmative action, because I believe that my racial and cultural heritage is a powerful credential on its own. Each racial heritage has access to intellectual and cultural resources that others ought to admire. I will promote my culture through the excellence of my work. Some would answer Mortimer Adler by insisting he include diverse authors for the sake of diversity. I would answer Mortimer Adler by writing a good book, just as I once hoped, in the end, to write a good college application essay. I concluded this essay with words that couldn't be written by any other. I hope they are words that could be appreciated both by my ancestors and by Professor Bird: "Now, what do I want from college? I want college to be that walk on the beach. I want to learn about the world and, by learning about the world, learn about myself. I want to be in a place saturated with Truth, waiting for me to discover it in my education and in myself. I want to be in the presence of great people, who will help me develop through the exchange of the intellect. I want an experience I will never forget." Christopher Damian is a sophomore. He can be reached at cdamian1@nd.edu The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.

The Observer

Green loans pay for themselves

By The Observer · Monday, Nov. 5, 2012

There are few things in this world that I like more than free stuff. Pens, t-shirts, packs of gum or what ever it may be. If it's free, I'll be getting one for me (Poetry is one of my many passions). However, if there is one thing that I like more than free stuff, it's free green stuff. I'm talking LED Christmas lights, some fresh new laboratory ovens for my chemistry majors out there and compact fluorescent light bulbs for all. All of these awesome green goodies were brought to you by the Green Loan Fund. Since 2008, money from the Green Loan Fund has helped purchase the nifty Energy Dashboard, super computers for the Center for Research Computing and a revolutionary dry-cleaning machine for Saint Michael's, just to name a few. Its support has contributed to the conservation of 350,000 gallons per year of water in Chemistry Department autoclaves, and has replaced 8,950 incandescent light bulbs with compact fluorescents to date. The fund is a force for good around campus, a force that should be utilized more. Sure we have accomplished a lot, but I think we can do more. The Green Loan Fund is managed by the Office of Sustainability and is for students, staff and faculty use.  We are talking $2 million dollars waiting to be spent by you to improve your dorms, classrooms and labs. All you have to do is come up with a proposal that will pay for itself in 10 years. Just think, you could replace that fridge that was top-of-the-line back when Tim Brown won our last Heisman, those dull incandescent Christmas lights, or that laboratory equipment that is about as state-of-the-art and efficient as the 1992 Ford Bronco your friend drove in high school. You're probably thinking, "But GreenMan, loans aren't free." Well, these green loans aren't like normal loans. Green Loan funded projects conserve resources, thus saving money. This money then pays for the loan. Trust me, money is green, and I know green. Unlike your student loans, these loans actually pay for themselves. It's like magic! Sure, we have accomplished a lot.  The funded projects are nothing to scoff at. However, I think we can do more, so don't be afraid to submit an idea. I want to make it rain. I want to see the fund completely distributed by innovative proposals.   It's a new age. Notre Dame will soon have a new Heisman (don't worry I went out and knocked on a tree) and you deserve a new, more energy efficient fridge for your dorm. So brainstorm some ideas, email or visit me at the office and take out the best kind of loan, the kind that pays for itself! Plus, for a limited time only, every loan comes with a hug from me, The GreenMan, guaranteed to teach you the meaning of the universe or potentially feel semi-awkward. If that doesn't motivate you, I don't know what will! Green Forever, The GreenMan Email your predicaments to The GreenMan at askthegreenman@gmail.com and let him answer you with a sustainable twist. The GreenMan will be here every other week to provide you with insights you never knew you were missing out on until now. The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.

The Observer

Considering contraception

By The Observer · Monday, Nov. 5, 2012

Tonight, this country will know who will lead it for the next four years. As we will all enjoy the reprieve from mud-slinging that will shortly come, it is imperative that every person at Notre Dame represent Our Lady's university by not just casting a ballot, but also by making an informed, educated decision on who will be granted the title of "Commander-in-Chief" for the next four years. Reading opposing Viewpoint columns that highlight popular blunders by each candidate terrifies me. Instead of using one slip-up as a basis for a vote, I urge every member of our community to consider all of the issues at stake in this election. As a female member of the Notre Dame family who was diagnosed with Severe Endometriosis six and a half years ago, I am incredibly concerned with the role that women's reproductive systems have begun to play in politics. The only known treatment for endometriosis is birth control pills. Don't believe me? Try being diagnosed with it. Sure, some women choose to try lifestyle changes and may see moderate improvements, especially if their case is quite mild. However, for most, we go through an often long and frustrating trial period of medications to try to find the right one for our bodies. Once you find that medication, you finally feel the freedom to live the way your friends do - free of a pain so severe, it often cannot even be dampened by Vicodin. I am a proud Catholic who has chosen to wait until marriage to have sex, yet my birth control prescription has earned me severe judgment from friends, nurses at St. Liam's and fellow residents of my dorm. As I see my reproductive organs being thrown into the election as political ping-pong balls, I have no choice but to urge my fellow students to consider the many dimensions of every issue facing this election. The first principle of Catholic Social Teaching is the Dignity of the Human Person. This principle extends beyond the extremely tired topic of abortion and encompasses quality of life. The dignity of the human person guarantees each human in the world a certain quality of life that is considered adequate and fulfilling. Providing any other medication that treats disorders and diseases is lauded in this vein. So why, then, am I judged? Why am I counting the days until I can go to a doctor who will not chastise me for my medication without knowing the reason it was prescribed? Why am I alienated daily from a campus that claims to be so intimately tied with Catholic Social Teaching? In addition to the treatment of endometriosis that birth control pills provide, condoms are widely distributed throughout countries deeply affected by AIDS and other STIs to help prevent their continual spread. Regardless of the reasons a person has chosen to have sex and regardless of if that person is married, the health benefits of these methods of contraception are factual and indisputable. This is why it thoroughly disgusted me to see people continue to support Rick Santorum after his comment that contraception "is not okay" and is "a license to do things in a sexual realm that is counter to how things are supposed to be." This view reflects an incredibly savage view of humanity. If the box of condoms for sale in CVS right next to the tampons changes your moral standpoint on sex, then you may not have thought it through very thoroughly in the first place. Making contraception available to all persons (a provision of Obamacare) is not a mandate that all persons use contraception. If you want to wait until marriage to have sex and then choose to not use contraception, please go right ahead. No problem with me, or Obamacare. If you want to have sex before marriage and use contraception, go right ahead. If you are among the many like me who need contraception to maintain a basic quality of life, by all means, head to the pharmacy. However, your decision to use or not use contraception does not give you the right to tell others that they too should or should not, especially in the common case that you very likely do not understand the full depth of their decision. I am not sure the exact moment in our society when intimate partner decisions became public, but the complexity and intensely personal nature of these decisions undeniably disqualifies them from broad, misdirected legislation. When Paul Ryan chose to side with Santorum on his pro-life and anti-contraception platform, his camp should have immediately lost the votes of those who prefer to make their own health decisions, rather than have someone else make them without knowing your personal circumstances. This Sunday at Mass, I urge you to look around. Chances are, your glance will rest upon at least one person who is taking birth control pills, at least one who has used a condom and at least one who does not believe in the use of either. Each of these people is standing there, in communion with you and Jesus Christ, receiving the Eucharist as you are, participating as one of God's children and a member of the human family that works for the good of all. Regardless of where you fall in these groups, try to remember that their choices are not one-dimensional. Their choices may have vastly improved their quality of life, so much so as to have allowed them to attend this University and be standing in this mass at the same time as you. Mary Kakenmaster is a senior. She can be reached at mkakenma@nd.edu The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.

Trending