Monthly Archives: September 2015
From a purely practical perspective, it makes sense; these cuts will save the college money and Calvin can still claim to have a theatre program. But the decision lacks educational and artistic vision.
Day after day, the actions of Pope Francis nudged at me and called me to be a better person. To live with integrity. To, quite literally, practice what we preach.
I have slept on the second floor of 6830 West Liberty Road for twenty-four years. I am intimately aware of each creak and groan of the house as it settles in the evening.
There’s a large chance that right now I’m making something out of that goal and that moment that wasn’t there. It’s just a game, you’ll say, and you’re right.
“This is not Burger King. You don’t have it your way. You take it Bud’s way.” This was true. There were two items on the menu, a “hamburg” and a “cheeseburg.”
These reflections confirm the intricacies of life, ultimately illustrating the album’s inner strength: that maturity is an act of becoming, often propelled by experiences of both trauma and joy.
I had been living in Boston for about two months at the time, and it only took one week to realize that the gay-to-straight ratio here is exponentially larger than in Grand Rapids, Michigan.
Fable, the pastor with early access to the communion wine, weaving, introduces guest speakers to deliver their personal sermons and stories of salvation.
That’s why I began playing again in Korea; I was looking for friends and I knew that Ultimate people, by and large, are people with whom I like to spend time.
Deep down, I know that there’s no “getting it right.” The most tragic aspect of this segue from youth to adulthood is simply realizing you can’t choose everything.
Hearing my mom talk lovingly about her scooter and all the great happiness it would bring her, my brothers and I all laughed like bullies in the cafeteria.
But mostly when I laughed, I laughed not because of the priest-man’s antics, or because of the students’ enthusiasm for debauchery. Mostly I laughed to hide my uneasiness.
What if a Christian politician actually gave a Christian answer to the refugee question? Yes, the refugees are dusty and tired. Yes, they are desperate. Yes, we will let them in.
You understand the subject, could identify, spell, and define each subsequent word or phrase, and are then met with a verb that can’t possibly make sense in the imagined understanding. What’s left is January North Sea coastline.
“Now,” he says. “I don’t wanna be out there with a root canal. So if we don’t see any whales, and you’re gonna pout about it, I prefer you get off now.”
Strange how things happen. You can put all your effort into living well only to find that you were living just fine the whole time.
So we turned our backs on the ocean and found one of the last things we expected to find on the beach in France: a ping pong tournament.
Confetti from a dropped and spilled 3-hole punch; Crumpled 8.5×11 sheet, blank and inexplicably wet; Crumpled 8.5×11 sheet, Wednesday’s homework, unfinished
He asks the Christian to both hate the world enough to want to change and it and love it without rationality. I do love and hate the world, I realized as I read, and that is something that matters more than I.
I was ten and had three consuming desires in life: a yellow bedroom, an American Girl doll, and a dog. So I was devastated, but prepared to bargain.
There were fifteen of us sitting on the floor, playing Mario Tennis on GameCube, like kids. He stormed in, all sideburns and mustache, and yelled at us like kids.
My team radiates with eldritch powers. Led by the dark priest Roethlisberger, the strength and conviction of disciples such as Eddie Lacy and Dez Bryant shall not fail me.
A new bar just opened down the street. By down the street I mean the on-foot travel time is about thirteen seconds. It was Coming Soon for weeks.
No one believes it. I didn’t believe it, until I grabbed the bumper, tried to lift, and realized I didn’t even know how to grip the thing. I’m writing about an experience I still don’t fully understand, and the sharing of it is even more incomprehensible.
Even though I said last semester that I was going to cut all my extracurriculars to make time for some of my own projects, I didn’t actually manage to quit anything
The whole town’s milieu has changed from German trampers and the Asian tour bus multitudes to people who can’t seem to survive without a beanie on their head.
It’s fun and flirtatious, but even after a couple months of practice, I still haven’t gotten the Cuban motion, the foundational movement and feel of salsa, right.
Mondays & Wednesdays 3:30-4:30, and by appointment, my syllabus says. It’s as if I typed it in my blood, signing a pact with my students.
It is a story about power and colonialization, but also a story about bananas and our insatiable appetite for them, as many as twenty-seven pounds per person per year.