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I spent the past few days fumbling for an idea for my column, Good Morning Miami, and completely blanked. I wasn't in a social commentary mood, and I wasn't in a happy, advice-giving mood either. I wanted to just pick a random topic and write. But, as a journalist, I didn't think that would be fair.
Tyler rests underneath a table on the Armstrong patio, his tail wagging constantly, his mouth hanging open in a wide smile. Sunlight reflects off his black fur, and a red and grey braided leash snakes upwards into the hand of Eastyn Newsome, Tyler's owner, who is dressed in a navy blue shirt and leggings, her short dark hair pushed back with a wide black headband.
In kindergarten, Parker Massman's throw from shortstop to first base broke the first baseman's glasses.
Driving home to Chicago for spring break began quite uneventfully. Music blaring, a hint of road rage (largely from my friend, Emily Cashen, who was providing directions for our journey) and miles of cornfield-framed highway stretching ahead.
I am a psychology major, and no, that doesn't mean I can read your mind, though I've been asked that question multiple times.
Lately, horrible stories of men mistreating women have infiltrated our news feeds and sometimes, it sounds like all men are bad -- like all women should either be scared or definitively angry with them.
It's barely 9:30 a.m. and accounting major Sophie McDonnell is already busy.
Graduating college or discussing the trials and tribulations of senior year aren't things I figured I'd be thinking about as a sophomore, mostly because I don't have enough credit hours or life experience completed yet.
Even if we're really not, it's just easier to say we are. This perpetual superficiality is all too real. It's fueled by the looming and continuous presence of social media and the pressure it brings to make our lives appear better than they are.
a new chapter unfolds
Names changed to protect privacy.
I hate being late. I hate the smell of rain. I hate bugs.
Good morning Miami. It's time for another story. This week, we've chosen one you're probably quite familiar with.
Students filed into Hall Auditorium Monday night, buzzing with conversation and laughter, waiting for Olympic gymnast Jordyn Wieber and activist Rachael Denhollander to take the stage.
Good morning, Miami. It's time for a short story.
Brightly colored tables accessorized with bouquets of red balloons lined the Armstrong Pavilions. Large posters gleaming with pictures of travel destinations were propped against the walls. Students with red bags dangling from their arms browsed the tables showcasing different study abroad program opportunities.
Mention money, and cue the uncomfortable gazes and unanswerable questions. Then cue the uncomfortable situations and conversations because personal financial situations are really nobody else's business.
Some girls on this campus cannot sleep at night.
I spent my summer surrounded by sand and sunshine at a country club summer camp, full of questioning little kids.
