“You want what now looks like?” British and Kosovar Albanian pop superstar Dua Lipa sings on the title track of her sophomore album. “Let me give you a taste.”
Oxford’s sources for local or free groceries are turning into grocery delivery services to eliminate coronavirus contact points. To keep up, they are training additional volunteers.
In the midst of the novel coronavirus pandemic, many are left wondering what’s going to happen next. However, some in the Oxford community have decided to take a different route. Spreading smiles instead of germs, Miami University students are using this pandemic as an opportunity to be creative and look into different hobbies for the remainder of the remote semester.
When I came to college, I thought I was an adult. I thought, as most of us probably did, I had it all figured out. Though I was only 17, I was on my own, free from my parents’ roof. I lived in Hepburn Hall during my first year, and while it was nice, I longed for the day I’d be able to live off campus, avoiding sticky dining hall tables and crowded dorms with communal bathrooms.
All photos courtesy of Sammy Harris
For Ann Fuehrer, director of the Talawanda Oxford Pantry & Social Services (TOPPS), a single day hosts an array of activities. From shopping at Kroger, to making sure the shelves are stocked, to answering emails and phone calls, to supervising volunteers, Fuehrer, who took over as director in July 2019, leads one of many efforts to help those struggling with food insecurity in Oxford.
Even before the stay-at-home order, on GBD last week, uptown was quiet. There were no lines stretching out of Brick Street Bar & Grill. There were no queues spilling out of Bagel & Deli. There were parking spots available. Sidewalks were nearly empty.
Cover photo courtesy of Pixabay
The bathrooms of college students can be downright gross. Toothpaste lines the bowl of the sink, the trashcan overflows and the toilet paper roll is notoriously empty. But, at the very least, Miami University sophomore Seif Boulos can fix that last problem.
Some stories delve deeply into the lives of their subjects. Others seek to capture the human condition in just a few words. Modeled after journalist Brady Dennis’ 300 word stories that explore the unfiltered intimacy of the everyday, these pieces offer a glimpse into the untold experiences of college life.
In a classroom on the second floor of Upham Hall sit 10 students. They drum their fingers on desks, bob their heads and tap their feet while the song “Heading Out to the Highway” by Judas Priest plays. Instead of the regular sounds of muted lectures and shuffling students, the raw chords of the song reverberate throughout Upham’s hallways. At the front of the room, the music video dances across the whiteboard. This is what a meeting looks like for Miami’s heavy metal club known as the Newly Woken Organization Based on Heavy Metal (NWOBHM). The name is a nod to certain metal subgenres like NWOTHM (New Wave of Traditional Heavy Metal).
Drinks? Check. Music? Check. Local vendors and student entrepreneurs? Check. Wait, what?
I’ve always loved a ritual. Proms, bat mitzvahs, confirmations, swearing-in ceremonies, quinceañeras, masses, weddings, funerals. And graduations. Rituals help us take what is ordinary, what is necessary, and transform it into an event. A moment that helps us step out of our everyday selves to recognize that the momentous has happened. Now, it looks like the chance to pause and feel how momentous graduating is might be taken away.
Going off to college, my soon-to-be roommate was texting me, excitedly talking about future plans and how she couldn’t wait to get to Miami. It seemed like all my friends from home were the same way, counting down the days until they would leave for school. I was the complete opposite. I was terrified to leave the only place I had ever known to move 300 miles away and live with complete strangers. When my parents left me, I cried the entire walk from their car back to my dorm, before wiping my eyes and trying to pull myself together as I met the people I would be living with for the next year.
The XT700 Styrofoam Densifier
Photo courtesy of Sammy Harris
After a brief introduction, four dogs ran out onstage to blaring rock music, taking their places on four wooden crates in a line upstage. Dog-loving families had packed the seats of Hall Auditorium to see Mutts Gone Nuts, a traveling comedy dog show, at 7:30 p.m. last Friday. Founder Scott Houghton entered in a red velvet blazer, introducing the dogs to the audience. Their lead trainer, Samantha Valle, stood behind the mutts, directing the tricks and sneaking them treats from her pocket.
I’m not exaggerating when I say I’m a picky eater. I tried to make a list and thought of 25 foods I like. While I’m sure I’m forgetting some, you get the point.
I texted my dad the other day to show him a recipe I’d found – he responded pretty much right away with excitement, declaring he’d try his hand at it in a few days. Waiting to hear how it goes is providing more anticipation than any March Madness prediction he could ever come up with.
Meemaw is not so much a believer in measurements. Or detailed instructions, for that matter. Back when she could still cook, my aunt tried to learn her secrets by watching her do it, but had a hard time interpreting how much a dash of this or a “humping spoonful” of that actually was. No one, to my knowledge, has tried to make creamed chicken since Meemaw became unable to. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the legacy of food, and the ways in which the things we eat as children shape us.