"If this is your first time setting foot on Miami’s charming campus, I absolutely envy you. As I enter my senior year, I would do anything to go back three years and start the clock over again."
In this time of constant fear and uncertainty, I needed to show that I wasn’t OK with what was happening. Even though I was just one body at a small demonstration outside D.C., I had helped. If everyone across the country had thought, “What’s the point? I’m just one person,” nothing would have happened.
If enacted, Ohio Senate Bill 1, or S.B. 1, will have broadly detrimental effects. There is a remedy: a petition for a referendum on S.B. 1. If we can get 250,000 signatures, S.B. 1 will be on the ballot this November.
In my first semester at Miami University, I have noticed a few contradictions between what Miami says it values and the reality of its actions. I felt the best way to show these contradictions would be through photos – to let Miami’s actions speak for themselves.
While the idea of a new construction project has certainly garnered the enthusiasm of many top administrators at Miami, students have vocalized their disdain for the removal of such a heavily utilized space. Cook Field should be preserved for future generations of students because it emanates Miami culture, provides a valuable source of green space and exerts a positive influence on student mental health.
Being disabled at 21 is hard enough, but the nasty stares and judgment from complete strangers are, at times, worse than the actual struggles I experience.
I am an older, non-traditional Miami student who has been involved in class work for the past decade. About five or six years ago, a guest from Miami’s DEI department came to my class as a guest lecturer. This was the first time I had been exposed to the staff of Miami’s DEI department. Since many in this class were first years, my guess is that this was also a first-time exposure for many of my fellow students.
Around 8 a.m. on Easter Monday, April 21, I woke up and reached for my phone to check my notifications. There were way more than usual, and the first message I read was from a friend: ‘The Holy Father just died.” Pope Francis had passed away at age 88.
Five years ago, I was racing across campus, camera in hand, chasing the last bit of golden hour before a front-page photo deadline. It was my third year as the photo editor at The Miami Student, and I had convinced myself, as I often did, that the perfect shot was still out there, waiting. That obsession with moments and meaning, with the timing of light and the power of stillness, followed me long after I left Oxford.
At the beginning of the semester, professors go over their syllabus guidelines about technology usage during class, and they specifically make a point to mention phones. However, they rarely interrupt lectures to scold someone. In the majority of my classes, students actually put their phones down and pay attention to the professors and course material.
In an age where injustice is broadcast in real time and hashtags rise and fall within hours, activism has never been more visible – yet, paradoxically, more performative. We are surrounded by curated expressions of outrage, while the gears of oppression turn steadily in the background, untouched and undeterred.
This month, President Donald Trump issued an emergency order to open all national forests for logging to boost timber production. Supporters of this move say that trees are a renewable resource. They can be replaced. Yet many feel outrage at this pillaging of our natural resources. Why? Because they know that cutting down a forest for its trees is a short-sighted solution.
Periodic nationwide protests are starting to take place. However, what’s interesting about these protests is the lack of young participants. Those taking to the streets are baby boomers who have experienced government excess in the past (i.e., The Pentagon Papers, Watergate, The Chicago Seven, etc.)
It’s no secret that literacy is the foundation of learning. It’s how children learn to think critically, solve problems and understand the world around them. Yet, national reading scores have dropped to levels not seen in decades. According to the National Assessment of Educational Progress, reading proficiency among 9-year-olds has declined significantly, with the most vulnerable students being hit the hardest.
When I decided to attend Miami, it was nationally respected, recognized for undergraduate teaching and research, known as a Public Ivy brand and promoted an emphasis on interdisciplinary study. I have seen much of that begin to fade. Will I regret “Miami University” showing up next to my degree?
Recently, I witnessed a student presenting to the class, empty eyes at the front of their face, and that distinct ChatGPT grey highlight glaring around the words on the board behind them. To make matters worse, the student struggled to pronounce all the long words, and they did so in such a way that when class ended, I left feeling deeply concerned.
We have seen big companies and corporations like Tesla face public criticism because of Elon Musk’s political alliances he has shared publicly. We can see this drop mostly among younger generations, who tend to not separate the product from the company owner, just as we do not separate the art from the artist.
To Mike DeWine, you have betrayed the community that built you. I am shocked that a Miamian would directly attempt to turn away a diversified group of people, ideas and experiences.
I therefore write – as an educator with two decades of experience at Miami, teaching geography and urban planning – to express profound concern about the proposal to build a new arena and corporate hotel on Cook Field, especially amidst a budget crisis.