Mount Hood

Where nature and human nature intertwine

Written by: Liberty Miller | Lifestyle Editor

I grew up country. I’m not talking suburban outskirts country, but rather an unincorporated town, population four hundred and twelve, hay bales on the side of the road kind of country. The kind that someone would have to go out of their way to get to. 

Yet, it was within that capsule of limited population and small-town idealism that I got to see the wonder of simplistic living in my backyard. I didn’t grow up with technology, so my days were spent flipping through paperback books, playing outside with my sister and dad and finding any part of the earth to mess with outside. 

We foraged for mushrooms and wild blackberries, or put on big rubber boots and stomped in the mud. We stared up at the sky, rode four-wheelers out in the large, unoccupied field in our backyard and climbed a huge tree with my dad, who built platforms for us to sit down and take in the expansive view of the meadow. 

When I got into middle school, all of a sudden, phones and tablets were introduced to my world. I met people who spent their childhood behind a computer monitor, or playing on concrete sidewalks or “fake playgrounds,” as I like to call them. Who on earth would need to build all that when you could have trees and dirt piles and slug kickin’ in your backyard? 

My classmates in middle and high school told me that it was shameful to have a country home, embarrassing to have grown up without using Snapchat or playing video games, and I was young, so I believed them. 

When COVID-19 forced everyone back into their homes, I suddenly had the opportunity to travel back in time and revisit my childhood. I stayed at home, and I spent time outside where my old friends, the flowers, the grass and the sunlight were. I could forage for berries, lay in the dirt and spend time in the home that I was once ashamed of. It was then that I realized — there is no life more fulfilling than this. 

I felt horribly, deeply saddened by those who didn’t grow up the way I did — the people who spent their time trapped in concrete jungles, surrounded by asphalt and car engines and Xbox systems — and, frankly, it just didn’t seem like the right way to live. I was mad that at some point in my life, I was envious of the people who lived the way they did. 

As I grew up, I saw more of the world. Perhaps the most eye-opening experience for me was traveling to Hartford/New Haven, Connecticut. When I arrived there, the sky was the wrong shade of blue. It was pale, tinted with a sickly yellow, and I felt unsettled. I figured out a short while later that it was air pollution. I looked around and all I saw was concrete and pollution — a dulled out life. I knew that I wouldn’t be happy living there. It felt suffocating. 

My belief system after COVID had only been reinforced after seeing city life in different areas of the US, and I had come to the very important conclusion that the world feels best where it is untouched. We, as human beings, have destroyed, pillaged and burned the earth. We have buried it in cement, poisoned it with exhaust, littered it with plastics and oils and ruined a very large portion of what used to be, in my opinion, something precious. 

But the inherent need for us as human beings to connect with the earth cannot be ignored. We are one with the world and we cannot exist in a society where Mother Nature is being plundered for profit and reshaped at the cost of our rivers, mountains, trees and fields. 

What I would encourage everyone to do, at least, in the most serious way possible — touch grass. Go drive to the coast and stare at the ocean, or lay down in the dirt, take vegetables from a nearby crop and run away like a Hobbit. Whatever inspires us to traverse outside of the house, outside of the city and into the natural world, existing as designed. 

As I sit here writing this article, I know a large portion of readers are not the biggest fans of country music. But Keith Urban sang something that I remember every so often because it used to play on the radio as I spent my childhood running around in the great outdoors: 

“I’m gonna kick off my shoes and run in bare feet. Where the grass and the dirt and the gravel all meet. Goin’ back to the well, gonna visit old friends. And feed my soul where the blacktop ends.”

Contact the author at howllifestyle@wou.edu

Western students struggle with safe on-campus dining

Written by: Libby Thoma | Staff Writer and Claire Phillips | Entertainment Editor

Valsetz Dining Hall is a required amenity for on-campus freshmen and a necessity to many other on-campus students. Given that many students are required to have a meal plan with Valsetz, one would assume that its food would be high quality, nutritious, inclusive, and most importantly, safe. 

Unfortunately, one would be incorrect in this assumption.

Valsetz has consistently had a problem with serving moldy, undercooked, and improperly prepared food, such as leaving feces in the food. Valsetz has also struggled with safely serving students with allergies, has racked up complaints from students of unlabeled ingredients and has been caught claiming to have food that is not available. Additionally, Valsetz has a critical lack of allergy food training within the kitchen, confirmed by a Valsetz worker.

Nearly every student who has paid for the dining hall has a horror story, and a disproportionate amount of students have experienced mild to severe cases of food poisoning due to the food they were served. Food-related illnesses have a significant influence on students’ education — affecting attendance and the ability to keep up with homework. 

Food poisoning is not an issue to be taken lightly. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, 128,000 people a year suffer from food poisoning while 3,000 people succumb to this ailment in the US alone. It’s not surprising that Western students are now avoiding Valsetz Dining Hall after hearing stories from their peers or experiencing illnesses themselves.

Moldy bread, raw chicken, feces in shrimp, and many other unsafe food products have been served to the students of Western, resulting in terrible tales of food poisoning. 

Out of 10 randomized students and workers who have a meal plan at Valsetz, only three haven’t had a stomach ache, mild to severe food poisoning, raw food or an allergic reaction. Three of 10 spoke of light stomach reactions to the food, one of 10 spoke of mild food poisoning, one of 10 spoke of severe food poisoning, one of 10 spoke about eating raw chicken and three of 10 said they haven’t had negative experiences. 

Although, those who did not experience these things first-hand spoke of friends getting food poisoning, one even mentioning the story of a roommate getting food poisoning seven times from Valsetz in one school year.
Multiple students explained their stories of food poisoning. One anonymous student is quoted saying that after eating Valsetz steamed vegetables, “I was throwing up for days and was just throwing up literal stomach acid. They had to close the bathroom and use an ozone machine in it because the stomach acid was creating such a toxic smell and environment.” 

Another anonymous student said they were “…severely ill for a week” due to moldy bread on a sandwich. 

This is just a fraction of the many food poisoning stories breaking out across campus.

It is important to note that staff cannot be the blame for this. Staff members of Valsetz deal with plenty of their own problems such as being underpaid, understaffed and not having enough materials or time. The root of the problem is the dining hall isn’t getting sufficient funding.

This is shown through interviews with staff. One worker, who wanted to stay anonymous due to fear of getting into trouble, states that the fault does not lie with the student workers or the cooks, but with the managers. The workers began with their own experience with food poisoning when they ate a noodle bowl and had food poisoning for two weeks straight, with constant trips to the bathroom — another case of food poisoning greatly affecting a student’s academics. 

The interviewee spoke about their experience with training, which they received little to none. This lack of training particularly pertained to training around safe food handling and, as the interviewee states, “We are unaware about how to safely handle the food and there’s been no clear explanation for how to keep the food separate for dietary needs.” 

When managers were asked, each manager responded differently. However, even this may not even be the manager’s fault as they may have a lack of training as well — clearly this goes to the top. 

The lack of training surrounding dietary needs is extremely dangerous, as some allergies are fatal. There have been many complaints, as stated earlier, of dietary restrictions not being met and allergic reactions occurring.

The anonymous Valsetz worker ended the interview stating, “That’s what made the work walk out necessary. During one of the lunch shifts, all the student workers walked out, protesting the unsafe food handling, the immense amount of waste and the unfair treatment of some of the workers. Although our concerns were heard and some things have changed, the process is slow and ineffective. The problems are being ignored and avoided by the managers.”

Many students are concerned that their tuition is being dispersed to other organizations on campus, and not to those that they use daily — such as their main source of food. Additionally, accessibility has become an issue for students who have dietary restrictions and who do their best to regulate the food they consume — their needs are not being fully met. 

Regardless, many students contract food poisoning whether they have a dietary restriction or not — simply consuming the only food that is accessible to them. 

CJ Denison, a sophomore and Resident Assistant at Western, recounted their Valsetz experiences since becoming a Western student. The RAs, who are paid primarily in food and board, are given the top meal plan to spend at the dining hall — only to be faced with potentially unsafe food. “I’ve reached a point with Valsetz where I mostly buy protein drinks and snacks and not the actual food they serve, because I don’t trust it,” Denison said.

The safest food options are also not necessarily the healthiest. “The fried food, which unfortunately is the least healthy, is generally the safest, because it’s cooked all the way through, and there’s not a lot of cross-contamination,” Denison said. 

Cross-contamination is a major concern for students who have a gluten intolerance or Celiac disease, as well as for those who have other severe and life-threatening food allergies.

Many students have pointed out that the labels on each food item are not quite descriptive enough. Nutrislice, the online menu, does describe each item, but ingredients are not posted in person. Students may be consuming food they are not aware will cause them to have a reaction.

To make matters worse, another dilemma for college students with dietary restrictions is the rising price of safe foods offered by Valsetz. Gluten-free food is typically more expensive than its gluten counterparts. Because of the cost of a university education, and other costs of living, many students find themselves skipping meals and struggling to pay for healthy food.

If you find yourself in this position, Abby’s House, located on the first floor of the Werner University Center, provides basic needs resources for students who may be struggling with food insecurity. Additionally, the Food Pantry — located in the Welcome Center — provides students with food at no cost.

Even if the dining hall isn’t the only food option on campus, it should be working to provide a safer dining experience for all students who rely, or are forced to rely, on its services. 

Contact the authors at howlentertainment@wou.edu and ethoma23@wou.edu

College students have no time to live

Written by: Ruth Simonsen | Digital Media Manager

Do you ever feel like you barely have time to breathe during the week? Well, that’s likely because you don’t. As a college student — which, if you’re reading this, you probably are — you have little to no time to live a normal, functioning life. 

Now why is this, you ask? Let’s break it down. Assuming you are the average college student, you are probably taking around 16 credits this term, or roughly four classes. Each credit is supposed to fill approximately three hours of work per week, outside of the scheduled lecture period. If you’re taking four different four-credit classes, that totals out to 48 hours of work you are supposed to do in one week. 

This number is outrageous for a student, seeing as if it were a job, you’d be getting paid overtime for these hours. These ungodly hours are also not accounting for working part-time, or even full-time jobs just to help pay for a fraction of these classes. 

Let’s reassess. Classes take 48 hours of your week, and a part-time job on top of that would take at least 25 more hours. What about if you want to have a day off, specifically on the weekend? Well, you would have to find a way to cram all of your work, from both classes and your job, to make that adjustment. 

If you wanted to take Saturdays off, you would have to find a way to fit roughly 12 hours of work in each day, both paying jobs and college classes. We’re not done yet. 

So you want to get into grad school during all of this? Okay, let’s find you some internships and volunteer positions to help expand that application for you. 

You have time to make that work, right? Oh, you have a partner that you want to spend time with as well? And friends too? Well, let’s see. If you find a way to cram everything into only six days and use every single hour of those days without giving yourself time to eat, sleep or breathe, maybe you’ll have time to see your friends on Saturday. 

Oh shoot, all of your friends are working on Saturday. And your partner? They left you because you didn’t make enough time for them during the week. What are you left with? Nothing, besides your classes, your jobs, your internships, your volunteer hours and your sad excuse for a college student life. 

Don’t worry though, these are the best years of your life!

Contact the author at howldigitalmediamanager@mail.wou.edu

The Western Portal is terrible

Written by: Quinlan Wedge | Photo Editor

I despise the Western Portal, and I know I’m not alone. My writing class this term focuses on tensions with digital media, and the most common complaint from fellow students is that the Portal is terrible. 

The long list of problems includes poor design and difficulty accessing financial aid, class registration and housing information. We are tired of jumping through hoops to get anywhere and having difficulty navigating an outdated interface — one with irrelevant additions, crowding, improper use of space and lack of direction and clarity. 

I designed a plan to make the portal and its systems more simple and accessible. I reorganized all content into simplified sections — including an archive for outdated apps and programs. I redid the application bar and made simple redesigns of the mismatched icons — adding an edit button to customize the apps to individual preferences. I added overviews of important things for students to keep track of and made other additions and deletions. 

Students must be able to find what they need quickly; this allows them to manage their time easier and work more efficiently.

There are still things that can be done to further redesign the portal. It would be wise to gather a panel of students to learn what the biggest problems are and what students need most. The portal needs to be made with students in mind, and it needs to be much more user friendly. 

I believe that less attention is paid to the portal than other parts of the Western online programs because the portal is only for people who are already paying to go to Western. Priority is likely given to things prospective students and donors see, not to current students. 

Several transfer students in the class, coming from Chemeketa Community College and Portland Community College, say that the Western portal is the worst they have experienced. One suggested that Portal designers should ask what students need and what they can do to get the students there. This does not seem like too much to ask. 

Students pay tens of thousands of dollars to attend Western; the systems they interact with daily must be more accessible.

I understand that computer programming is nuanced and complex, but other local colleges are able to do it well, so why can’t we? If we pay staff to work on Portal programming and computer services, we should have better website design focused on the students whose tuition goes toward staff pay. 


Contact the author at howlphotoeditor@wou.edu

Eyithe’, I AM

Written by: Jaylin Hardin | Sports Editor

Content warning: contains mentions of death and substance abuse

Look at the ground beneath your feet. Who’s walked here? Who lived on the land long before you came into existence?

The Cow Creek Band of Umpqua Tribe of Indians is one of nine federally recognized Indian Tribal Governments in Oregon. It has its own Tribal Board of Directors and its own set of laws pertaining to and governing tribal members. Located in Southwest Oregon, the Cow Creek Band of Umpqua Tribe of Indians has over 1,800 members spread from Canyonville, Roseburg and Myrtle Creek. I am a recognized member of this tribe.

Ancestral tribal grounds were primarily located along the South Umpqua river and the surrounding watershed but also stretched to parts of the Willamette Valley, Crater Lake, the Klamath Marshes and the Rogue Valley watershed. 

On April 12, 1854, a treaty was signed between the natives and the United States government — ceding more than 800 square miles of land. The tribe was paid 2.3 cents an acre and these were then resold to pioneer settlers for $1.25 an acre.

There were, however, issues with this treaty. The natives had no concept of land ownership or land boundaries — hunting, fishing and gathering sites were all well established. The treaty also promised healthcare, housing and education to the Cow Creek Tribe, but this was ignored until 1954 with the passing of the Western Oregon Indian Termination Act, legislation to “set the Indians free.”

When settlers arrived and began to live on the ceded land, tensions began to rise. Disease swept through the tribe killing many members, including Chief Miwaleta, who now has a campground named after him in Azalea, Oregon. 

Efforts began to remove the Cow Creek to reservations in Northern and Eastern Oregon, with promises of wonderful lives on the reservation. Scouts were sent to these locations, and their first sight was that of an infant suckling on its dead mother. This is still shared among the tribe and told to people who ask why we do not have a reservation. I remember I was 10 when my mom first told me this story. 

Due to this, the tribe resisted relocation, and the Bureau of Indian Affairs sent exterminators to Oregon for the main purpose of killing the Cow Creek people. Many had already died in the Rogue Indian Wars, an armed conflict occurring in 1855 and 1856, which fueled settler-native rivalry. Many who survived this were chased to Table Rock in Medford, Oregon by the calvary and forced off the side of the plateau to their deaths.

The surviving members lived in seclusion and eventually married pioneers, miners and fur traders in the area. Seven families survived, taking or keeping the names Dumont, LaChance, Rainville, Pairseau, Rondeau and Thomason — Rainville and Rondeau are still the most prominent modern names and figureheads within the tribe. 

Though not Federally recognized, the tribe still held their councils and their way of life, ensuring to document these meetings. When the tribe pursued an aggressive approach towards restoration and recognition in the 1970s — an effort my great-grandmother and two times great aunt and uncle all played a part in — they began the process for legal validation of the tribe’s existence. 

Today, the tribe is buying our ancestral land back, owning acreage in Canyonville, Myrtle Creek, Roseburg and the surrounding areas. Seven Feathers Casino and Resort, which started out as a bingo hall in the 90s, now boasts six restaurants, a spa, an RV park and countless events within the various lounges and event centers. 

I grew up intertwined in my tribe’s culture. Until my middle school years, I spent summers at culture camps and Pow Wows, crafting and dancing in ways to honor the ancestors. There are still skills I learned at these that I remember today, my favorite being flint knapping — the art of taking obsidian and sculpting it into arrow and spearheads — and beading. 

The tribe knows the effects of intergenerational trauma and issues; my grandmother and great aunt both passed due to their drug use — both starting in their early teens.

Into my adult years, I have become distant from the culture I grew up in. I distanced myself from toxic people within my family and have not spoken to them in years. I still make my attempts to have connections; reading literature by native authors, using a sage wax melt when I want to cleanse my space, wearing my beaded earrings and keeping my hair long when so many in the past couldn’t.

I still have connections with my tribe, they help pay for my college and they are blood, after all, but part of me likes to think they can’t catch me. I am proud of my culture and the survival of my ancestors, but I choose to uphold my own traditions and my own way of life, far from them and the lifestyles many have chosen for themselves. I am not running from the culture I grew up in. I carry it and the blood of my ancestors with pride and honor. But I am far from those who wish me ill.

This Thanksgiving, think of the people who lived on the land long before the settlers arrived from the New World those years ago, the Murdered and Missing Indigenous Women and Children, the thousands found buried under residential schools. Especially think of those who are in the cycle that was created for them, hundreds of years before they were born. Not everyone is as lucky to break the cycle like I am.

Contact the author at howlsports@wou.edu

Cringe is dead, enjoy what you want

Written by: Claire Phillips | Entertainment Editor

For the past few years, young people have been straying away from trends and exploring their personal style. There is now a place for anyone and everyone to express their identity and interests — the internet. Whether it comes down to curating a unique wardrobe or enjoying a show that dubs you a “geek” or even “Gleek”, it is essential to constantly spark your inner joy and ignore the haters. 

Fandom culture has existed for centuries. Fans of the Shakespeare play “King Lear” rewrote the ending simply because they enjoy the tragic conclusion. Similarly, fans of “Sherlock Holmes” are credited for some of the first ever fanfictions and publicly mourning the death of Holmes. These fans have never been spared from criticism, however, today, Beatles fans will ask teenage girls to “name three songs,” when the original Beatles fan base was mainly composed of teenage girls.

Fans have found ways to connect both online and offline. Conventions have served as a meeting place for people with similar interests. The greatest fans will even “cosplay” as their favorite characters with intricate outfits and props. Cosplay became popular on social media apps, but unfortunately, not every cosplayer was well-received. They’re creatively doing something they enjoy, so what’s the harm?

Actually, there can be harm in being a superfan. Fans of the hit TV show “Glee” popularized the show and started calling themselves “Gleeks.” It was all good and fine until the Gleeks began harassing the actors. The leads of the show already had stressful lives: long days of learning songs and choreography led to exhaustion for both the cast and crew. 

The same goes for other popular television series, such as “Stranger Things” and “Heartstopper.” Otherwise, cringe is dead — feel free to be a Gleek, as long as respect is at the forefront of your intentions.

The difference between the Shakespearean era and today is the glorious invention of social media. If conventions aren’t accessible, there is another option: talking to people online. The days of posting flyers on theater doors are over, now just a five to ten second video can reach thousands. However, if you’re one of the brave few who share their true self online, the result could be subjection to the hateful words of close-minded people.

The truth is, those people are never going to go away. Whether they appear at school, work or online, the haters are everywhere. If their words are taken to heart and people change because of it, then they’re just being proven right, and the negativity will continue to spread. The most effective course of action is to ignore the hate, respect differences and support each other.

The point I’m trying to make is that it’s draining to constantly be a hater. Reach out to the people around you, and you might find something in common. The universe will align to bring people close to you who will love you for all of your quirks. If you like to make weird noises, seek someone who will do the same. 

Whether you’re a theater kid, a cosplayer or a bookworm — there is a place for you. People like you have existed for centuries. Wear unique clothes, find time for niche passions and seek out those who are similar. In ten years, the haters won’t matter, unless you let them crawl into your head and build a home there. What’s important is the people who will let you shine.

 

Contact the author at howlententertainment@wou.edu

Ease your mind, ignore everyday villains

Written by: Liberty Miller | Lifestyle Editor

When I was in high school, I went to a bookstore near my hometown and purchased the prettiest book I could find at the reasonable price of $14.95. I had preemptively placed myself in the philosophy section of the bookstore — in the hopes that I could find a small gem of knowledge that would be more valuable than the allowance I was spending on it. What I wasn’t expecting was for that book to shape one of my most treasured life philosophies — one that I would carry all throughout my years leading up until this moment. 

When I opened the book, I was met with undecipherable chinese characters and an introduction to “The Way.” 

It was a translation of an ancient Chinese philosophy created by Lao Tzu, and when I flipped to page 122, entry 67, I read, “I myself have three treasures at hand; I keep a firm grasp on them, and protect them as I would a child carried on my back. The first, I say, is nurturing love. The second, I say, is unpretentiousness. The third, I say, is not pushing myself ahead in the world. Because of nurturing love, you are capable of courage that flows forth; Because of unpretentiousness, you are capable of being expansive; Because of not pushing yourself ahead in the world, you are capable of having the stature of an elder among people of ability.” (Tao Te Ching) 

The translation of the book, and perhaps the clear and precise manner in which Lao Tzu originally created his work, seemed to be applicable even thousands of years later in the life of a 15-year-old girl. 

The first principle, nurturing love, can be presented in many ways. Unconditional positive regard, loyalty, kindness, compassion and affection are some ways to demonstrate nurturing love in your everyday life. 

As an athlete, I do my best to show this by speaking positively about opposing teams. In my everyday life, I refrain from speaking spitefully and instead, praise and include others with kind regard. 

This is an incredible principle to incorporate into daily life. In a world where there is an abundance of criticism, negativity and needless bullying, one has the power to reject these ideals, reject the idea that complaining or talking badly about others is a rite of passage or means of assimilation. 

There is nothing more satisfying than having love and appreciation for the world and the people in it; it is there that we can find peace. 

The second principle, unpretentiousness — living life humbly and without status. We live in a world where our accomplishments and social standing are measured constantly by those we know or people who live across the world. 

Social media, academic and athletic awards, jobs, internships, houses and apartments, relationships, friendships, money, age and beauty — countless ideals and standards that hold everyone hostage on a daily basis. The way to freedom is to let these things go. 

When ego takes over, it’s easy for one to forget where they started, see where they are and act as if it is their right to be there. How I think about it is, the world is not, in fact, my oyster; instead, it is my classroom. If I let go of my ego — my need for status and adopt the mindset of a beginner — I will be leaps and bounds ahead of those who don’t want to learn, only to achieve. If I lose my need to be better, I can become the best as an individual, NOT comparing myself to others and unattainable standards. 

The third principle — not pushing oneself ahead in the world. Going hand-in-hand with the previous principle, what this means to me is prioritizing the “we”: supporting other human beings over self interest. 

Biologically, our species depends on each other for survival, whether we like it or not. Bonds are what make up what we call life. In the process of putting myself first, I would tend to forget those around me who built the staircase of life that I climb. 

Rome wasn’t built in a day, and it wasn’t built by one person either. The credit for who we are today goes to those who supported us along the way. In this manner, we can follow this principle by giving credit to those who helped build our staircase, helped write the chapters in our story. 

As a disclaimer, no one born on earth in any era will fully claim to have mastered this philosophy. 

We are fickle, we are human and we are flawed. Everyone has been a Regina George — been the opposite of everything we’ve discussed thus far. But, even the smallest of actions can be the building blocks towards a more rewarding and happy life. I think one will find if they try their best to go about life with love, gratitude and friendship, they will be more at peace with themselves than ever before. 

Contact the author at howllifestyle@wou.edu

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Western Oregon University in Monmouth, OR is located within the traditional homelands of the Luckiamute Band of Kalapuya. Following the Willamette Valley Treaty of 1855 (Kalapuya etc. Treaty), Kalapuya people were forcibly removed to reservations in Western Oregon. Today, living descendants of these people are a part of the Confederated Tribes of Grand Ronde Community of Oregon and the Confederated Tribes of the Siletz Indians.

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