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Wandering into the major I now call home

Around three years ago, I committed to Miami University as an education major.  I had attended Make it Miami, surrounded by lines of chattering high school students — red lanyards with name-tags hung about their necks, accompanied by anxious parents asking countless questions.  It didn’t occur to me at the time that I would want to change my major before I had even gone to my first class. 

Latest stories


Taking center stage: The thrills of a theatre major's first week

The hum of cicadas cuts through the late-summer heat as the sun drops lazily below the horizon, marking the end to another blistering day. As the light fades from the sky and students meander back to their houses and dorms, classrooms and laboratories become vacant -- all except for the Center for Performing Arts.


Lilly and Me: A Farewell Scrapbook

If you've been keeping up with us from the beginning, you know that Lilly and I have been through our fair share of trials and tribulations over the past four months. For 14 weeks, I've used this column to cover topics such as depression, anxiety, alcoholism, fear of adulthood, assuming responsibility and, in our most harrowing ordeal, Lilly running into the woods and remaining missing for five hours. If you'd never actually met us in person, I couldn't fault you for thinking we lead somewhat of a gloomy or cheerless life.


Lilly and Me: learning responsibility

There was still about an hour of light left before the sun set on the weekend, so I grabbed Lilly's leash and led her to the dog park yet again. Now that I've stopped letting her off the leash on our walks, I've been making an effort to visit the park at least once or twice a day since it's the only remaining place she can run freely. I figured that, at this late hour, there would be few other dogs to distract her and we could practice playing fetch, an activity I'm happy to report she is starting to figure out. She's now at the point where she'll chase after the ball when I throw it; the second (and rather important) half of her game still needs some work.


Lilly & Me: The Worst Five Hours of My Life

One of the most helpful quick-tips I've run across for dealing with bouts of depression is to imagine yourself with a stuffy nose. You know when your nostrils are all blocked up and you'd give just about anything for the relief of a clear airway, that thing you suddenly realize you always took for granted? Well, when you're feeling hopeless, when it feels like there's no joy to be ascertained from the world, it helps to recall the agony of a stuffy nose -- maybe nothing has meaning and we're all just floating hopelessly through the void, but hey, at least you can breathe in the fresh air, right? It sounds silly, but you'd be amazed how far you can get with some basic appreciation of everyday comforts.


sex in college: 'A big fucking deal'

Even at the height of the #MeToo movement this past winter, it was difficult to talk about ambiguously consensual sex -- the kind that's technically consensual, but doesn't totally feel that way.


More than just clowning around

It's 10 a.m. on a Saturday and I am bear crawling in a circle around an acting studio with my favorite professor, 12 other students and a certified clown.

Devon and Lilly at the dog park.

Lilly and Me: Separation Anxiety

After about 20 minutes, I felt my fragile sense of calm begin to dissipate, and the world around me started to spin. I fought back a bout of nausea and fumbled to get my phone from my pocket. Dialing, I put the phone to my ear, still scanning the woods and listening for the jingle of her collar.


Lilly and Me

If one of my neighbors were to have looked out their bedroom window last Saturday morning around 7:15, here's what they would have seen: Me, dressed in sweatpants, a gray fleece and moccasin slippers, sprinting across my lawn and around the block, an empty leash in hand.

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