If hard work directly correlated with success, the exorbitantly wealthy would be seen paving roads or bussing tables. Why is it acceptable for an institution, let alone an entire nation, to condemn the hardest of its workers and justify it by hanging an unreachable dream above their heads?
With recent economic inflation making period products even more expensive for students, the university could significantly improve the lives of students by updating its period dispensal system — or even adding period supplies in all vending machines like residence halls do — in its academic buildings.
For students whose only goals at college are to get a degree, network and land a job after graduation, caring about local government may not seem worth it. Plenty of students go their entire academic careers at Miami without ever knowing who sits on Oxford City Council, and more than a few probably couldn’t tell you that the Talawanda School District exists. These institutions matter, though, to students as well as residents.
Did you know there are 17 vape and smoke shops in Oxford? Because I sure did not. When I first heard this number, I thought it was a joke. Unfortunately, it’s true that Oxford houses more vape shops than it does cafes.
As the high school graduates of the class of COVID-19 — I mean 2020 — prepare their caps and gowns, they set out on a path distinctively shaped by the pandemic. The very pandemic that, in many cases, served as a catalyst for the digitalization of the “college experience” here at Miami University (and across the world).
Ohio has the third highest rate of opioid overdoses per capita in America. In Butler County, that rate is even higher than the state average. This puts Miami University squarely in the epicenter of the opioid epidemic.
We need better advocacy for the rehabilitation of a system that is intended to uphold the values of love and honor, yet in its current form leaves survivors of sexual and interpersonal violence feeling unsupported, unheard, disheartened and regretting having sought justice in the first place.
One of the main reasons I decided to attend Miami University was the many career resources advertised to get students good jobs after graduation. What I didn’t realize was the hidden path to get there — not through the career center or career fair — but through my professors and alumni network.
When I heard about Miami University’s decision to part ways with Aramark, I was shocked. This decision was made without any prior student or Aramark staff consultation and is unjust and lacking transparency.
Girlhood is a major topic of discussion following the "Barbie" movie. Should we let boyhood fall to stereotype in its shadow? Kiser Young writes.
The widespread accessibility of AI writing tools, combined with a lack of research as to what ethical use of these tools looks like, has created panic among some members of the Miami University community and has intrigued others.
In the last few years, faculty and librarians at Miami have faced pressures that make it harder for us to do our jobs well: increased class sizes, extra service demands and stressful calls for reinventing, restructuring and closing down academic programs.
As a child, I loved to climb. We had a creek in my neighborhood, as many Midwest neighborhoods do, and one of my favorite pastimes was taking my bike down to the creek and climbing the surrounding trees.
An article in the Sept. 29 issue of The Miami Student referred to “heartbreaking” news that Miami University is considering the elimination of majors in the humanities. On one level — the level of fiscal priorities — this might seem understandable. However, as the article mentions, one of the contributing factors to current fiscal problems is the position of the Ohio state government. The question is whether the state is doing enough to support educational institutions in need of assistance.
The transition to college is hard — this is well-known — and homesickness happens to everyone. Not a single person, including myself, could predict how terribly I would react.
I start the walk to the other hallway, the one that should have 1023, and continue down until I realize yet another mistake: The room doesn’t exist. Where I thought room 1023 would be is actually the janitor’s office.
It was then that I watched a half-full beer can be rifled at my drone from directly below it. Not tossed, not thrown, but rifled.
I have never felt fuzzy about myself. Coming to college, I had all the self-confidence needed to uncover my veils of ignorance and to discover new truths. Almost a year and a half later, I am convinced I knew more about myself and the world when I was 14 than I do now at 20.
If you walked past Armstrong Student Center last week, you likely noticed some unconventional and shocking goings-on. From fake moon landings to condemnations to Hell, the steps outside Armstrong have been the center of political and scientific debate.
In January, the state of Ohio adopted more stringent voter identification laws, and the League of Women Voters of Oxford is worried about the impact these changes will have on the ability of Miami University students to vote in the Nov. 7 election.