Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Ancient Wonders Replaced in Modern International Vote

WEB-EXCLUSIVE!
By Brandon T. Bisceglia
Op/Ed Editor

The Pyramids lose their place in history.
Photograph Courtesy of www.hartransom.org, adapted by Brandon T. Bisceglia



On July 7, 2007, a Declaration Ceremony held in Lisbon, Portgual announced the results of a worldwide campaign to create a new list of the Seven Wonders of the World.

The ceremony marked the culmination of a project launched by the New7Wonders Foundation, established in 2001 by Swiss-born Canadian adventurer Bernard Weber. The foundation is based at the Heidi-Weber Museum in Zurich, Switzerland, and was formed, according to its website, to “contribute to the protection of the world’s human-built and natural heritage and to foster respect for the cultural diversity on our planet.”

Weber, a filmmaker and lifelong aviator, has spent much of his career reliving history. Among other things, he produced a TV documentary titled “The Desert Prince” in 1995 that retraced Antoine St.-Exupéry’s mail route down the West African coastline – a journey that was to inspire the famous pilot’s 1943 book, The Little Prince.

Weber’s love of history and culture was what ultimately spawned the New7Wonders project. It was aimed at updating the famous list of the Seven Wonders of the World established by Philon of Byzantium in 200 B.C. The original wonders were all located around the Mediterranean Basin – a realm which only included southern Europe, northern Africa, and the Middle East. As such, they were a reflection of a smaller world-view.

The ancient list contained such creations as the Lighthouse at Alexandria, which for centuries was the world’s tallest man-made structure. There was the statue of Zeus, a gilded ivory form that once inhabited the Parthenon. And, of course, there were the Great Pyramids at Giza. Of all the renowned wonders, these pyramids are the only left standing. The Giza site was entered into the contest, and made it to the finalist category. By the time the votes were counted, though, they too had been stripped of their glory.

The newly dubbed wonders were chosen among numerous entries contributed through an open-ended submission process over the internet. At the end of 2005, a panel of expert judges – many of them architects – brought the list down to 21 finalists, which were then put to an internet vote. According to the site, more than 1,000,000 people participated in this vote.

When the dust settled, these were the victors:
• The Great Wall of China, China (220 B.C. to 1644 A.D.): The Great Wall is actually a series of many walls built, torn down, and reconstructed over thousands of years. The walls were meant to be fortifications against invading empires (specifically those of the Turks and Mongols). The original walls, which were built primarily of earth and wood, have mostly eroded. During the Ming Dynasty (1638-1644) new materials, such as limestone and brick, were employed to make the walls stronger. These fortifications represent the modern conception of the Great Wall. Parts of it, too, have suffered weathering, particularly in the more remote and harsh desert landscapes.

• Petra, Jordan (? B.C. to 40 A.D.): If you’ve ever seen Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, you’ve seen part of Petra. The city, once populated by the Aramaic-speaking Nabataeans, was located at a crossroads between several ancient Middle Eastern nations. The buildings were carved and hewn out of the sandstone cliff sides that surround the city, so that many of the structures are part of the cliffs themselves. No records of Petra’s original construction remain, but it did develop over time, blending Hellenistic and other architectural traditions. Its decline came when the Romans took over the area and reestablished sea trade, thus rendering much of the site’s functionality invalid.

• The Roman Colosseum, Italy (70 A.D. to 82 A.D.): The Colosseum, also known as the Flavian Amphitheatre, was built by the Romans to host gladiatorial games. Unlike most other amphitheatres built by Romans and Greeks, this huge structure was freestanding. After the fall of Rome, the building was put to numerous other uses, including as a graveyard. Today, the Colosseum is a tourist site, an internationally recognized symbol of ancient Roman society, and the blueprint for all modern sports stadiums.

• The Pyramid at Chichén Itzá, Mexico (C.800 A.D.):
The city of Chichén Itzá was a major center of the Mayan peoples from the Late Classic through early Post-Classic periods, and is one of the most well-preserved Mayan sites. The pyramid, which is known as the Temple of Kukulcan, was built in step design with stairways on each of its four sides. The outer structure was actually built over an older temple, a practice not uncommon in Mayan society. The pyramid was constructed so that, on the fall and spring equinoxes, a slithering shadow would be cast on the north staircase during sunrise and sunset. This shadow – which can still be seen twice a year - is meant to represent the divine serpent-god, Kukulcan.

• Machu Picchu, Peru (1460 A.D. to 1470 A.D.):
The settlement of Machu Picchu was built in the eastern Andes Mountains at the height of the ancient Incan empire. When the Spanish came to Peru, the city was abandoned and remained “lost” until 1911, when archeologist Hiram Bingham wrote a best-selling book about the city. The architecture of Machu Picchu utilized the shape of the mountain to create terraced steps and walls that appear almost organic. This perception is further aided by its location in the Amazon jungle, which has since enveloped the site.

• The Taj Mahal, India (1630 A.D.):
The Taj Mahal is an immense mausoleum. Mughol emperor Shah Jahen had it constructed as a tribute to his third and favorite wife, Mumtaz Mahal, after she died. The structure is built of white marble and incorporates many Persian architectural traditions. Surrounding the tomb is a garden that is divided into four parts that symbolize the four flowing rivers of Paradise in Muslim mythology.

• Cristo Redentor, Brazil (1931 A.D.): This 38-meter statue stands atop Corcovado Mountain over the Brazilian capital of Rio de Janeiro. It was engineered by Brazilian Heitor da Silva Costa, and then constructed piece-by-piece in France, by sculptor Paul Landowski. The pieces were shipped to Rio, where they were brought up the mountain and put together over a period of five years. The statue is made of soapstone, which is so soft that a fingernail can scratch it, but can stand weathering better than concrete. It is meant to symbolize both Brazilian religiosity and the acceptance of all visitors with open arms.

The New7Wonders website is now hosting nominations for its next project, a list of the Seven Wonders of Nature. The nominations will continue through October 8, 2008. For more information, or to submit an entry, visit http://www.new7wonders.com/index.php.

(All information on the Wonders was acquired through the UNESCO World Heritage website, or through the official web pages for the Wonders.)

Friday, October 19, 2007

Creative Non-Fiction by Senior Horizons Staff

This semester, as the beginners on staff were learning more about newspaper writing, advanced students were asked to write personal essays that would give readers new insight into an important situation or issue. The following are the results of this assignment. Senior Horizons reporters wrote on a wide range of issues, including:
  • finding something to do between classes
  • returning to a treasured spot from childhood
  • dealing with an absent father
  • coping with a rare medical condition
  • the effects of divorce
  • And many more!

Happy Reading!

Professor Steve Mark
Advisor to Horizons

It’s Too Late for I’m Sorry, Dad…

You can’t control your destiny, but you can cope with it.

By Jessica Spadaccino
Staff Writer



My mother and father a few years before I was born. His rockstar lifestyle led him on a "Highway to Hell".
Photo Courtesy of Jessica Spadaccino.


“What’s the most confusing day in Bridgeport?” he asked. I knew what was coming, so I just raised my brow at him and shrugged. “Father’s day!” He exploded into laughter; I didn’t. I hardly knew the man, and that explains why he wasted his breath telling me that ignorant piece of information he called a joke.

Although I didn’t feel it right away, something about that statement seemed to cut right through me, and I had to step out of the crowded room at my friend’s party. I thought about that statement all night.

As I was growing up, it was only my mother and me. I guess when my mother grew tired of my nagging, “Am I adopted?” question every father’s day, she decided to let me meet my maker. I met my father for the first and last time at a broken down McDonald’s in Bridgeport, my hometown, when I was seven years old. My Godmother brought me to meet him because my mother couldn’t stand the sight of his thin frame and pale skin. I was scared upon first sight. I remember it was like looking into a mirror, but he was a stranger to me. He wanted to hold me, but I wouldn’t let him. He compromised and sat me down next to him, as I clenched tightly onto my Muppet Babies Sticker Book (I loved those things). He loosened my grip, opened to a random page, and looked at the colorful characters. “Who’s that?” He asked me, pointing to a fuzzy little creature holding drumsticks. I didn’t know.

Every day I think about my father. His ghostly white skin, the bags under his eyes; I understand now why my mother didn’t want me around him. He died of a drug overdose in an alley by himself in November, just a few months before I turned eight years old.

I know for a fact that there are a LOT of parents here in the Housatonic Community, but are you really there for your kids? How often do you tell your children you love them? How much time do you really spend with your child? According to the U.S. Census Bureau, fifty-nine percent of American children will live in a single-parent home at least once during their minor years. According to www.Fatherhood.org, an estimated 24.7 million children do not live with their biological fathers, and about forty percent of these children have not seen their fathers during the past year. This is a serious issue.

There is a reason it takes a mother and a father to create a child. It has been proven, according to www.dadsindistress.asn/au, that seventy-two percent of adolescent murderers, sixty percent of rapists, and seventy percent of long-term prisoners grew up in father-absent homes. About sixty-nine percent of victims of child sexual abuse came from homes where the biological father was absent. Eighty-four percent of teens hospitalized for psychiatric care come from single parent homes, and seventy five percent of teens who commit suicide are from single parent homes. According to www.children-ourinvestment.org, Eighty-five percent of all children who show behavior disorders come from fatherless homes.

My father wasn’t there for my first steps, or the first time I rode my bike without training wheels. He wasn’t there to kiss my “boo-boos” when I was hurt. He was not there to tell my boyfriends to take good care of me. He never told me I was worth more, or that he loved me no matter what. My father wasn’t present for my proms. He didn’t tell me he was proud on my graduation day. He wasn’t there to protect me from all of the other men who physically and emotionally hurt me over and over again. He wasn’t there when I got my driver’s license, and he won’t be there to walk me down the aisle on my wedding day.

Thinking of these memories is dangerous. I like to think of myself as a strong person, but to this day it upsets me when I see a father and daughter holding hands. When it comes to my father, I put on an act like I know everything, and nothing emotionally phases me, but I am wrong in doing that. I am not a drug addict, an alcoholic, a murderer, or anything else those numbers try to tell me that I am, but I do have emotional problems that will never be fixed.

To all of the parents reading this article that have never met your children before, or have not been there for your children- go out and find them. Look at the statistics above. You can help stop this! You helped to create a human life - and you could help them become something amazing. You will make an impact in your child’s life whether you are with them or not. Even if the child doesn‘t want you to hold her at first, she will still be happy she got to sit next to you for that moment or two.

To the parents who have stuck by your kids no matter what - Thank you. Even if your children don’t always tell you they love you and appreciate you, remember that they do. If I didn’t have such an amazing mother, I wouldn’t have lived this long. My mother has helped me control my anxiety attacks, separation anxiety disorder, and depression that I have been battling since I was five years old.

To all of the parentless sons and daughters reading this article; don’t add to those statistics. I have found that not having a father is by no means easy, but it has made me stronger in ways I never understood until recently. Being angry at the world or at a father who doesn’t care about you is not hurting anyone but you. It won’t be easy to let it go, but it has to be done. The past is called “the past” because it has already passed us by. I try to take the anger and pain of being without a parent and use it to motivate myself. Everyone who knew my father told me I was just like him, and I was determined to prove them all wrong. I will not become a negative statistic, and I hope all of you parentless children reading this article will find peace in knowing you are not really alone.

I didn’t ask to be born without a father, no one does, but there is nothing I or anyone else can do to change their destiny. It breaks my heart to look at the one picture I have of my father, but I can’t let myself become bitter. I need to take a step back every time I have these thoughts and count the things, like my mother, that I have been blessed with.

As much as I want to put my dad behind me and forget all about him, I still wish that there was a way I could tell him that the Muppet Baby Drummer is “Animal.”

I Lost My Sight, Not My Vision


If life’s hard knocks have beat you up to the point that you
rather give up here is a blueprint on how to fight back.

By Gerry Whitted
Staff Writer

Bang! Went the sound in my head when my eye hit the corner of the dresser in my bedroom, after a two-foot free fall. One half of my world went dark instantly and the other half was curious with fear, to find out what happened.

As I removed my hand from my eye to investigate, I realized that the beet red warm liquid sensation in the palm of my hand was blood. I went to the three-quarter-length mirror in the hallway. The reflection I saw alarmed me. I didn’t recognize what used to be my eye, and I knew I was in need of help.

“Oh no,” I said, while my head began to throb and feel like a woodpecker with a headache. I began to bargain with God with the typical, “If you get me through this one I will change.” I began to list some of my shortcomings. If I were to keep my end of the deal I would look like the Second Coming of Jesus Christ.

Do I call 911 or do I look for a neighbor at 8:30 a.m. in this predominantly working class condominium? I chose the latter. I rang the doorbell of Mr. Singh and, as he opened the door, he said with a distinct East Indian accent “Jedee, oh sheet what happened?” I explained and asked if he would take me to the emergency room. He nodded his head yes and put up one finger as to say one moment please.

When he returned, in what seemed like seconds, he was wearing a jacket and I proceeded to my unit to get mine. We moved quickly towards his car on this brisk mid February morning and after a short ride we were in the emergency room. Little did I know that my life was about to change, forever.

The trauma to my eye was so great that, not only was my retina detached, it was outside of the eye. It was determined that I would need specialized surgery and Dr. Stein, one of only five surgeons in Fairfield County qualified, was chosen to perform the task.

By this time my wife, Gail, summoned four of my closest friends. Dwight from the Bronx, Jeff from New Jersey, Mike from New Rochelle and Glenn from Bridgeport. My two sisters, Candice and Judith from New Rochelle and Yonkers, were there, so I was not lacking in the support department.

Dr. Stein, who had examined my eye earlier in the day, came into my room with that positive doctor persona that put us all ease. He put his hands, with manicured nails, on my shoulder and explained the procedure he would use to repair my damaged eye. He also added a piece of information that would crush my world.

Dr. Stein said, “I am not saying give up hope and stop praying, but it is a 99% chance you will not regain the vision in your eye. I’ve done many like this and yet to have one regain their vision. We will know more after the surgery, I just don’t want you to get your hopes up to high.”

I nodded my head and said, “I understand.”

What a blow; I had never felt this way before. At least when my legs were amputated I could get a prosthesis and wheelchair to aid with my mobility. Loss of vision is just that, lost and gone forever.

I would have missed too many classes to go back to school that semester. I would have to quit the Connecticut Wheelchair Basketball team, after training so hard and buying a $1800.00 sports wheelchair. I would have to give up my independence due to not being able to drive. What is the sense of continuing my education? Who is going to hire a no legged wheel chair bound black man with one eye?

The story of my life, it seems, is when things are going great something happens to take away my joy. Did I mention that after almost 25 years of procrastination I decided to go back to college? I even changed my major from Accounting to Journalism after working the corporate offices of IBM, Frito-Lay and The Zales Corp. Obviously my interest changed. Being an auditor was cool but repetitious.

“God what did I do to deserve all of this? Both of my parents are gone, my legs are gone and now my vision. How much more can I take? What more must I do? I try to be a faithful servant to you; yeah I know I can do better. But as I understand it you don’t expect perfection and you will forgive imperfection. Why do I feel you have abandoned me maybe you don’t even exist. Maybe I would be better off being a loser and quitter, while being a negative influence in society. Better yet I’ll stay home and medicate while I am vegetating that would really be cool wouldn’t it? NOT!”

Realizing I had just uttered words questioning the existence of my creator and protector, I grew uncomfortable feeling sorry for myself. I could have lost consciousness and bled to death or I could have hit my temple and died instantly. Though I am one eye from being blind, I am one eye from not being blind. This could have been a lot worse.

At that moment I realized I better make a call before my request to be a loser, quitter and some other negative things I would hate to become. I said “Yo, God you know that conversation we had few minutes ago? I was just venting. I would like to rescind my original request too. Please give me the courage and strength to challenge life’s hardships and challenges in a responsible way.” This was the beginning of the healing process.

After the completion of my successful surgery I called my wife and told her to call school and let them know I would be absent because of surgery. I called my sister Joan and asked her to contact my basketball coach and inform him of the situation.

I returned home after a week of hospitalization and found out how much I had taken for granted. For instance, depth perception, I could not pour any liquid into a glass without concentrating. Cover one of your eyes and do the same and you will fully understand.

My eye healed, and I was cleared to go back to normal duties, whatever that means. The only restrictions were to wear goggles when I played basketball and wear unbreakable lenses in my prescribed glasses.

I went back to school and spoke to my professors to let them know that this was not a visit; I am back. I refused to defer because I was afraid if I chose to, I would never go back. I had to make up at least three weeks of work and, being a full time student,his was going to be a challenge. And a challenge it was.

I could not put it into words for it to justify how hard I worked in spring 2007. I never gave up, though at times I didn’t think I would succeed, but I did.

I finished with a 3.20GPA, so you see there is room for improvement. If I gave up I would never feel the joy that has engulfed my life. Yeah, I have my bad days, but I realize the great days are right around the bend.

This summer I created a newsletter for our condominium tenants, something that has been in the works for about two years. I am still having eye examinations on a regular basis and it was determined I would need a prosthetic eye to make me handsome again.

I have gained a renewed excitement and appreciation for education that has been absent for years. So much that I am, once again, a full time student and working ever so close to meeting my goal to graduate in May 2008.



Changing Currents

As we mature, familiar places take on different faces.

“Long, long be my heart with such memories fill’d!
Like the vase in which roses have once been distill’d: You may break, you may shatter the vase if you will, But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.” - Thomas Moore, Farewell! But Whenever You Welcome the Hour


By Brandon T. Bisceglia
Op/Ed Editor

One recent afternoon, I had to run to the office supply store and pick up an ink cartridge that I desperately needed for a project due the next day. It was no big deal – at this point in my life, I’m accustomed to rushing.

After retrieving the item, I noticed that the sun was going down, and became momentarily nostalgic. On a whim, I changed course, and drove to my favorite haunt: the boat launch in my hometown.

Photograph by Brandon T. Bisceglia

The boat launch is essentially the parking lot termination of a dead-end street. The pavement at one point falls into the marshland mouth of the Housatonic River, which serves as the demarcation between Stratford and Milford, CT – and also Fairfield and New Haven counties. I imagined in my youth that the road must continue under the water, and up the other side of the river. Later, of course, I understood that one would drown.

The rest of the area known as the launch includes several small piers used mainly for fishing and small sail or motor boats. In summer, the parking lot also houses an outdoor restaurant that was once owned by an older Greek fellow who used to sexually harass my high school girlfriend when she worked for him. It’s okay, though; she quit, and I never liked the food much anyhow.

What has always attracted me most to this spot throughout my life is the relative solitude. As a teenager, I would walk down the precipitous rails and planks, and sit on one of the floating docks that wavered near the shore, letting the currents pull me back and forth. Once I owned a car, I would spend my Sunday evenings parked in front of a swath of reeds at one end of the lot, listening to ambient music and watching the wind roll over the stalks as bugs twirled in the infinitely far-off street lamps. If I was up early enough on certain mornings, I would catch the sun rising over the river, painting it in ascending hues.

The boat launch is popular among the locals during the summer. The fishermen prop their poles in chunks of white PVC tubing that are mounted on the pier, then idle through cigarettes as they wait for their lines to bend. Occasional patrons picnic in their cars or on one of the benches scattered around the area. And on the river, the paper wisps of sails glide blissfully down the lolling waters.

During other seasons, though, the place is mine alone, and that is when I enjoy it most. The frosted grasses in winter, the near desolation of autumn – the area tells different stories at different times.

One late October, for instance, a series of torrential rains over the period of a few days flooded certain sections of the town. In the evening, during a lull in the precipitation, I stopped at the launch, parking perhaps 40 feet from the gentle slope where the pavement was subsumed by the river. I watched as it spread slowly outward, crawling up and over the parking lot. I was mesmerized by the sight of the black liquid that, with measured complacency, rose to replace the solid blacktop. Only when it had come well past the limits of my vehicle could I compel myself to discontinue my presence in this ominously beautiful scene.

Throughout the procession of seasons and years, the boat launch has seemed only to change cyclically, remaining in an overall sense the same. Time draws into the more familiar natural step that I expect of it, and stretches out in expanses as endless as the gulf where the river continuously meets the salty ocean.

It was that broadening circular sensation that drew me on my detour from the store.

I sat on the fringe of a wooden walkway, eavesdropping on the entire world. A stocky, gruff fisher walked past me with his bucket and tools, stopping a short distance off to chat with another man who’d just arrived.

“Catch anythin’?”

“Nah.”

“Long y’ben here?”

“Couple’a hours. Not much doin’ today – yuh just get here?”

“Yeah.”

“Good luck.”

As the two went their separate ways, their conversation sparked images I had never associated with this place. I saw depleted fish counts from the pollution upstream, and remembered that the organization American Rivers listed the Housatonic as the 7 th most endangered river in the nation in 2004. I saw the spreading dead zones in the Hudson Bay, and finally, the awesome cesspool that Long Island Sound – where the Housatonic makes its exit - had become. I recalled the tracking of these trends, the alarm and debate all of these issues had spurred. It was all connected, of course, and I’d always known of the environmental problems that coursed deep within the waters of the area. Until that moment, however, such concerns had not intruded on my reveries. Now they sent me on tangents of cogitation.

The walls of my mental sanctuary fell, and I understood that it, too, was part of the forward projection, no longer an isolated realm.

Fish stocks might return. The river would eventually wash itself clean, if given the chance. But a deeper truth lay in the fact that, even if this rejuvenation were to happen, the boat launch could never be the same. Just as Pangaea would never reconstruct itself, just as Neanderthal man had been lost forever on the precipices of the Iberian Peninsula.

Like the phoenix, the reborn river would be a new and different creature.

With this insight in mind, I bid salut et adieu to a place that could no longer match my memory of it. And as I drove away, I realized something else – I still loved it anyway.

Being Imperfect and Loving It

After being diagnosed with a rare birth defect, I discovered that not being perfect is wonderful.

By Samantha Bratz
Editor-at-Large

This is a brain scan showing Arnold Chiari Malformation Type I
Photo courtesy of www.uchsc.edu


I remember like it was yesterday, the terrible pain shooting through my head, the sound of water rushing in my ears. I knew something was wrong but I didn’t know what. I had been to the pediatrician several times over the last few months, but my doctor could not figure out what was wrong with me so he pawned me off to the nurse practitioners in the office. They all said it was “growing pains,” and since I was 14, I was probably just feeling stress from starting high school.

Every other month or so I would end up back in the doctor’s office complaining that the headaches were getting worse and that I was constantly hearing rushing water in my ears. My list of complaints started to grow - I felt off balance all the time (my friends said I looked drunk when I walked down the hall at school), some days I would be incredibly nauseous while others I would be extremely tired. There would be days where I would come home from school, do my homework, take a shower and then be in bed by 6:30 because my head hurt so bad. I would sleep anywhere from six to ten hours a night, and I would wake up exhausted the next day. I knew something was wrong, but my doctor completely dismissed anything I had to say; he would just send me to have blood work done and each time the results came back showing nothing was wrong.

After months of tracking how severe the headaches were along with what I ate and did every day, my doctor still could not figure out what was wrong with me. At this time I could no longer bear the headaches and with the help of my mom we were able to get my doctor to see that there was really something wrong with me. He suggested I see a neurologist to “rule out a brain tumor as the cause of the headaches” – as he nonchalantly put it. I then became a patient of Dr. Peter McAllister. He reviewed my symptoms and after about 45 minutes of talking he made a referral for me to have an MRI.

When the results from the MRI came in he sat my mom and I down and said “I have good news and I have bad news. The good news is you don’t have a brain tumor. The bad news is that you have Arnold Chiari Malformation Type I (ACM I) and Pseudo Tumor Cerebri (PTC).” According to the National Organization for Rare Disorders (NORD) website www.rarediseases.org, “Arnold-Chiari Malformation is a rare malformation of the brain that is sometimes, but not always, apparent at birth. It is characterized by abnormalities in the area where the brain and spinal cord meet that cause part of the cerebellum to protrude through the bottom of the skull (foramen magnum) into the spinal canal.” In layman’s terms, I was born with part of my brain in my spinal cord. Normally the brain rests on the spinal cord, but, my cerebellum is slightly protruding into my spinal cord, therefore my coordination skills and equilibrium are off.

As for the PTC, it literally means “fake tumor.” According to www.ninds.nih.gov, PTC “is likely due to high pressure caused by the buildup or poor absorption of cerebrospinal fluid in the subarachnoid space surrounding the brain. The disorder is most common in women between the ages of 20 and 50.” PTC in basic english means that I have a big ball of pressure behind my eyes. This built up pressure can cause vision loss, which happens to be the major risk with this disorder. PTC is also to blame for the nausea, some of the headache pain, and the sound of rushing water in my ears.

I will always remember the day Dr. McAllister told me what was causing the headaches and all my other problems. I wasn’t upset or worried; I was ecstatic. I finally had an answer. I could actually go on to the next step and get treatment. Maybe I could actually lead a somewhat normal life that didn’t revolve around pain and exhaustion. I will also always remember looking over at my mom and watching her cry. She felt bad that I had suffered so much and she blamed herself for it. I got her a tissue and sat down next to her and said, “it’s not your fault. This was how I was born. There was nothing you could do to prevent it.”

As we left the doctor’s office I started to think “if I have a birth defect then that makes me a defective person. I’m imperfect. I will NEVER be perfect.” I was upset, but as time went on and I grew older I started to realize that nobody is perfect. Everybody has flaws – whether their feet are too big or they have a narcissistic personality. Perfection is what you believe it is. I no longer think of myself as a defect. I joke around about having ACM I and PTC all the time. In high school I wrote about having ACM I for my scholarship essay, and when I was awarded my scholarship I said to my mom “it’s all thanks to Arnold.” She just gave me a look and laughed.

Today I am a healthy 21-year-old college student. I get headaches from time to time, but I have learned ways to handle them. I have learned how to handle stress so it does not cause headaches. I sew, read or I listen to music when I’m stressed. With the help of medication I was able to get the ACM I and PTC under control and I have not needed to see Dr. McAllister since I was in high school.

I think of myself as unique. I figure not many people can go around saying they were born with a part of their brain in their spinal cord. Not everybody can thank dear old Arnold for getting them a college scholarship. I figure I’ll never be alone; I will always have Arnold. I’m special – because I choose to be. I have my flaws like everybody else; I can be obnoxious at times, I chew with my mouth open, and I tend to crack jokes when I attend funerals. I don’t really think of my flaws as “flaws”. They are extensions of my uniqueness. They are distinctive qualities that I possess that make me one of a kind. My imperfections make me perfect; they show that I am human. In the end I have found that yes, I am imperfect and I wouldn’t want it any other way.

It’s a Concrete Jungle Out There!

The HCC Student’s Guide to Keeping Occupied

Suggestions and tips to help the average HCC student stay occupied during the time they have to spare between classes.


By Kristin Gayda
Editor-at-Large

Thumbs up to B.B. the Bluefish, who’s always down to chill between classes.
Photo Courtesy of Kristin Gayda


A mode of transportation is a beautiful thing. If you’re a car-less HCC student, keeping your sanity intact between classes can feel like something of a hopeless situation. But never fear, my bum-riding, shotgun calling friend – you’ve got a professional on your side! Not only have I endured three semesters at Housatonic without a means of getting to and from school, but my attention span can be measured in nanoseconds. With that in mind, here are some suggestions to get you on your way to having fun and conquering Bridgeport’s concrete jungle!

If you’re trying to stay as local as possible, then take advantage of campus. Walking around HCC requires little to no effort because you’re, uh, already there. Rather than waste all of your time in one place (like the Cafeteria), make an “adventure” out of your quest to overcome boredom. For example, take everything in steps. Start in the cafeteria, grab a soda or hot chocolate, and mentally prepare yourself for the hours ahead. Take your beverage of choice out into the court yard, look around for familiar faces, or simply sit on a bench and contemplate the day’s events.

When you’re finished outside, take a walk indoors and scan the newspaper racks. Of course, you should always pick up an issue of Horizons if you haven’t already (what a shameless plug!), but many times you can find editions of Play Magazine, Fairfield Weekly, and The Connecticut Post (among other publications) for free! Free reading, comics, Sudoku puzzles and calendars of local events always equate to at least a good half an hour of time consumption.

From here you may want to check out the HCC Library. The obvious suggestion here is to take out a book; whether it’s applicable to a class you’re taking or simply for leisure is up to you. I bring my laptop with me everywhere I go, so the Library is a quiet, calm place to relax and do my work with a pair of headphones and some groovy tunes. If you really have nothing else to do, take advantage of yet another library perk – the movie selection. It’s free to check one out, and they offer headphones and television sets to aid in your viewing pleasure.

Once walking down the same hallway and seeing the same people over and over again gets to be too much, consider venturing outside. It’s always good to set a goal for these sorts of travels, so have a mission in mind. I suggest hunting for caffeine. If you do it right, the hunt for caffeine can be both extremely rewarding and time consuming at once!

You have several options in the area to choose from, which is nice because it takes time to figure out where to go and allows you to mix it up every so often. The simplest choice – Dunkin’ Donuts – is located directly across the street from the parking garage. While it may not have the greatest service ever, it’s an easy walk and you know what you’re in for. Plus, they have free Internet access for those of you with laptops.

If that isn’t your cup of tea (or, uh, coffee), and it’s before 3:30 in the afternoon, check out Take Time Café or Avalon Café. It takes two minutes (tops – they’re located on State Street) to walk to either establishment from campus and both are definitely worth your while. In addition to providing gourmet drinks in a “café” atmosphere, Take Time and Avalon’s full menus include a wide array of sandwiches, paninis, salads, and pastries guaranteed to satisfy your appetite.

So, where do you go next? Well, if you’re the collegiate type who likes to feel cultured every once in a while, be sure to check out City Lights Gallery and Rainy Faye’s. Both are located just a block away on Broad Street, and are, as far as I’m concerned, hidden gems many HCC students are unaware of. City Lights Gallery is a great spot for all you art enthusiasts out there to visit. The selection is always changing, as the gallery displays a new themed exhibition every six weeks or so. Each exhibition aims to showcase local artists’ sculptures, paintings, prints, and photography. Admission is $0, so feel free to walk in and browse some of the area’s best artistic talents.

Situated a short distance away is Rainy Faye’s. Serving as the area’s only bookstore, it provides much more than a diverse selection of today’s best sellers. Live jazz concerts, poetry readings, lectures, and book signings are offered on a regular basis, so be sure to browse their schedule. If purchasing books doesn’t tickle your fancy, Rainy Faye’s also sells art prints, CDs, handicrafts, and gourmet coffees/teas. Who knew?

Now, if you still aren’t sure as to what you can do to kill the time, then you haven’t been reading carefully. There’s clearly a wide variety of things to do on and around HCC’s campus. Remember, these are only a few suggestions – there’s still a whole lot more to explore in the area! Read flyers for events, ask around, meet new people, and do all you can to quell the boredom (at least until your ride arrives). Believe me, in the end you’ll be a happier, more productive student. Good luck!


The Power of Divorce: How Can You Cope with It?

How to overcome one of America’s most common problems.

Divorce is a growing problem in the United States.
Graphic Courtesy of United States Census


By Vinny DeLillo
Staff Writer

Divorce has the power to turn a once happy family into a broken home. It can tear families apart, it can make enemies out of friends and most of all, it can deeply affect children throughout their entire lives. In this day and age, divorce is becoming more and more common among American families. As a matter of fact, according to DivorceMag.com, 10% of the population in the US is now divorced. That may not seem like a lot, but this number has risen 2% every ten years since 1980. If that’s not enough for you, here is another shocking statistic: According to the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, in 2001 alone, 50% of all marriages ended in divorce, and the number has only been growing as time has gone on. And speaking as somewhat of an expert on the subject, I believe there are a number of ways to cope with it.

Divorce happens for a reason and more often than not, the aftermath can be hard and troubling for some. When my parents were first divorced, I didn’t know what to do. Since I was so young at the time (6 years old), I wasn’t completely sure how to deal with it or whose fault it was. I felt like I should be taking sides, but I didn’t know whose side I should’ve been on. To make matters worse, my parents would often fight, whether it be over the phone or in person, and it took a toll on me emotionally. I had never seen this side of either of my parents and I didn’t know what to think of it, all I knew was that I was confused and somewhat scared of what the future was going to hold.


Most people will find that one of the biggest problems that comes along with parents getting divorced is the realization that you now have “two” families. That is, you’ve got your dad and his family, and your mom and her family. This may seem like a tall task to undertake at first, but if you balance your time correctly, it can most certainly be done. Whichever parent you’re living with, try to visit the other either every weekend, or every other weekend. When my parents first were divorced, I would alternate weekends staying at their houses. It was a good way to still see my mom, whom I didn’t live with, and at the same time spend time with my dad. Also, try to arrange some impromptu meetings for lunch or dinner with the other.

Keeping the lines of communication open are also very important when dealing with divorced parents. As it is with any relationship, communication is key to maintaining a happy, healthy relationship. Try to make time to shoot your parent a text or a quick phone call during the day, just to tell them that you were thinking about them and you love them. It’ll make you feel better and it’ll let the parent know that he/she is still wanted even though they aren’t in your life as much anymore.

Child psychologists also agree that the best way for teens to cope with divorce is to avoid turning them against their parents. Choosing sides will lead to even more dissension within the family and could possibly terminate the lines of communication for good. Family therapist Isolina Ricci agrees with this theory. “When children are free to love both of their parents without conflict of loyalty, to have access to them both without fear of losing either, they can get on with the totally absorbing business of growing up, on schedule.”

While divorce pales in comparison to many other problems to some, to others it can prove to be quite the obstacle to overcome. Coping with it is a day by day healing process that takes the combined effort of both parents and their children alike, but can be beneficial to both if done correctly. After all, in life, what does not kill us makes us stronger.

Life! The Musical

Life is music, music is art... I don’t know where I’m going with this. Just read the damn article.

By Cody Quinn
Editor-in-Chief

Like so many of you Internet surfers out there, I use music to get me through otherwise uneventful days. Yes, the glory of that $300 piece of plastic I so fondly call Harley (What? You don’t name your iPod?) is truly beyond measure. Without Harley, work would be a drab experience, I might have to say, “Hello,” to people when I walk down the halls of our beloved HCC, and, worst of all, I might have an attention span somewhat longer than that of the average squirrel.

However, without the proper listening material, my iPod would be about as useful as President Bush’s diction coach. My precious Harley contains roughly 3,000 songs nestled in her tender little hard drive, with each and every song tailor fitted for all the tiny nuances of my life.

Perhaps at this point you are wondering how you can have a perfect mp3 player like I do. You may also be wondering if I will somehow find my way to giving you some handy dandy examples. Furthermore, you may be curious as to how millions of dollars in untraceable cash could be lost on the way to Iraq. If you are wondering about the last question, you are too smart for this article and must leave before your brain is irreparably harmed. You’ve been warned.

When looking for music to download on to your digital storage device, there are two, and only two, ways to go about it. The first is the easiest: take a look in the mirror. By using the handy tool known as “stereotyping”, you will be able to find music that suits you perfectly.

For example: does your hair come to a laceration-inducing point? Do you wear Che Guevara T-shirts, “Fight the Power” patches, and a jean jacket with the Union Jack on the back and have no clue what any of them symbolize? Then rock is for you. If you haven’t already, look into bands like Bad Religion (older stuff), the Sex Pistols, and the Meat Puppets just to take the edge off.


From the Sex Pistols to Mos Def, you can use any music to describe your life.
Images courtesy of www.theage.com.au and www.dustygroove.com


Can you decipher words that are spoken at roughly the speed of light? Do you believe that, “Pimpin ain’t easy,” and know that it’s hilarious for little kids to be singing, “Skeet, skeet, skeet?” Then rap is surely for you. Of course, trying to recommend rap groups/artists is like tip-toeing across a minefield of allegiances and personal tastes. Having said that, Mos Def, Immortal Technique, Common, and Kanye West are always worth a listen.

The second method of finding music is somewhat more personal: selecting music to suit your many moods. The best way to do this is to find out where your mood most commonly lies. If you’re a melancholy person, you’ll want to load up on artists like Brand New, Snow Patrol, Plain White Ts, or any other band that handles a breakup by throwing on some make-up and clumsily strumming an acoustic guitar. “Sowing Season” by Brand New and “Run” by Snow Patrol are bound to keep you sullenly content.

As in life, if you are of a generally happy temperament, you have more options. A joyous person has more genres to choose from, including 90’s alt rock, rap, and pop. The sky’s the limit for you, but some songs that will never let you down from the cloud you’re floating on are “Steal my Sunshine” by Len, “Taxi Cab” by Gym Class Heroes, and “Calculus” by 2Gether.

Finally, I know lots of you out there are uncertain when it comes to selecting music that best fits your “romantic” moods. Let’s face it: being equipped with the right song can mean the difference between playing patty cake with you partner, or giving yourself a low five. Of course, there are the old standards: “Sexual Healing” by Marvin Gaye, anything by Barry White, and for the super subtle, “Too Close” by Next.

You’re better than that, though, so consider widening your approach to more thoughtful music. Want to make a girl go weak in the knees? Try “Into the Mystic” by the Wallflowers. Ladies, want to show your man you mean business? “I Love My Sex” by Benny Benassi is perfect to let him know he’s in for the time of his life. If you want to have a song on that signifies some kind of “love,” “21 Questions” by 50 Cent is surprisingly sweet.

That is only a glimpse into the process of custom fitting the music world to your particular lifestyle. If, on the very off chance, you find my two methods ineffective in finding music, there are two outside sources that are pretty good at filling out your collection. Websites like www.pandora.com and www.lastfm.com are great for opening your mind to artists similar to the ones you already like, and learning what type of music people like you like.

With that, and to get you thinking in the right direction, here’s a sample of an average day in my life as outlined by songs from my sweet, sweet Harley.

A Day in the Life of Cody Quinn

1. Pure Morning- Placebo
2. Phenomena- Yeah Yeah Yeahs
3. So Fresh and So Clean- Outkast
4. Working in a Coal Mine- Lee Dorsey
5. Joker and the Thief- Wolfmother
6. ABC- The Jackson Five
7. Orange Crush- R.E.M.
8. Don’t Stop Believing- Journey
9. Amphetamine- Everclear
10. Strawberry Wine- Deanna Carter
11. Sinnerman- Nina Simone
12. Tyler- Toadies

Thursday, October 18, 2007

At Least I Am Funny

Me vs. Me
Photo taken by Chris McMahon

What happens when the laughter stops? Uncovering the insecurities masked by a good sense of humor.
By Rebecca Starke
News You Can Use Editor



This idea of self-confidence has always plagued me. I have a loving family, great friends, strong sense of self, and a great sense of humor that I consider my forte. Despite my list of attributes, I have trouble facing certain issues like weight, career, and relationships or lack there of, and replace it with a joke, anecdote, or an impression that will no doubt turn the attention away from these issues and focus on my ability to be witty.

I am going to hit the nail right on the head and address the biggest issue that I think in certain aspects affects the other issues: my weight. My weight fluctuates more than the than the coke scale at Lindsey Lohan’s house. I am not a delusional person. I am aware of the fact that I could stand to lose a few; the step forward was figuring out how I got here and why it’s a reoccurring problem: I eat my feelings. When I am upset, nothing makes me happier that a juicy burger followed by a huge bowl of ice cream. If it’s been a really bad day, I seek comfort in pizza, as if having a salad could somehow make me feel worse. This uplift only lasts about five minutes until I realize that this is the reason I could only wear a black dress/moo moo this summer.

Finding something to wear isn’t my only dilemma, it’s finding the motivation and time to do something about it. I have become one of my biggest pet peeves, someone who constantly complains about something that they are unwilling to change. I will go in spurts of tremendous energy and motivation to get off the couch and exercise. However, those spurts are short-lived and the re-runs of Friends seem much more important when the time comes to make the choice. Hence the fluctuation; welcome to my vicious cycle.

While the rest of my friends made the wise decision to continue higher education, I dropped out when I was 20 to work at TGIFriday’s where my worth was determined by my pieces of flair. I wore 37. I have since quit my job at the home of the Ultimate Hawaiian Volcano and Sesame Jack Strips and moved on to a desk job where the only requirements are that I show up on time, and I don’t get too drunk at the Christmas party. Hats and suspenders are optional. Having a full time job where you are confined to a desk and a phone is a huge element of the weight gain, that and the warehouse guy that insists on bringing in doughnuts every morning,. Thanks, Ron.

I am 27, a sophomore in college, and feeling really behind when compared to those I surround myself with. I wouldn’t say that what I do for a living is an embarrassing job. It’s just boring and not really what I see myself doing for the rest of my life. So to mix it up a little, when I go out with my friends and meet new people, I have adopted an alias thanks to Karen from Will and Grace, Anastasia Beaverhousen, the sex therapist for senior citizens. I am not really proud of this little white lie and I apologize if any of you have been the victim in this little prank, but in my defense, it was really fun.

I am single and loving it! Or am I? I have done a really good job convincing myself that my lack of a relationship is by choice and I just don’t have time for it right now. The truth? I would love to be in a relationship! However, my track record these days consists of a wedding date that fell asleep at the head table at a wedding and a guy who’s engaged, yet failed to tell me. I refuse to believe that this is what’s left for the single gal. The lack of prospects isn’t the only setback; I am surrounded by people that are all married or in relationships. With that being said, my married friends aren’t in the business of “let’s go guy hunting.” There is also the issue of my weight; could that be a reason for the lack of prospects? As I slap myself across the face for being so ridiculous, I remember that although attraction is important, I would like to stay away from those that shallow.

When asked why I am not in a relationship, I usually respond as Bridget Jones would, “Because underneath my clothes, I am completely covered in scales.” That usually ends the conversation! When I do meet possible prospects, by the time I reach that point of interest, this person already thinks my name is Anastasia Beaverhousen, the sex therapist. How does one get out of that lie with an invitation for a date? I might be better off using the “bend~n~snap,” and just tell them my real name.

Despite the fact that sometimes these insecurities get the best of me, I know who I am, and I like that person. I know that regardless of my form, I am a genuine person with a generous heart and I surround myself with people who reflect those qualities. I do know at the end of the day, these issues don’t determine my worth and in the grand scheme of things it’s who you are on the inside that is the measure of a person. But if for some reason I find myself reaching 500 pounds, with a job selling ceiling tiles, and end up an old spinster living with 30 cats, I do know this---At least I will have my humor!






Just Breathe


Sometimes what we think we want isn't always what we need.

By Jessica Rougeau
Senior Staff Writer

This moment seemed to make its way into my life all too quickly. I felt utterly ambushed and came to the startling conclusion that perhaps I was not as ready for this as I thought. The next morning I'd be heading off to college.

As I scanned the old room around me, the room I’d lived in most of my life, I thrived off the comfort that at least things here would be just as I left them when I came home. The leaving really was the worst part in all of this. I'd be leaving my family, friends, and a romantic relationship I knew would suffer, but with mutual promises to work through it, we agreed to stay together. I went to bed that night so nervous I didn't even dream.

Going away to college could have been amazing, if I went there as the person that everyone knew. The person I was before I entered an emotionally abusive and co-dependent relationship. I used to be an extremely outgoing person who welcomed new eye opening experiences, but I found myself holding back constantly and did not have it in me to open up to all these new people I was meeting. As much as I tried to deny it, I knew the cause was this person I was with. This person had been slowly chipping away at all the good parts of me, controlling every single move I tried to make, until I had reached the lowest I'd ever been. I felt like nothing and it inevitably forced me to feel like it was true because I continued to love them and wanted it to work.

This is where everything began to fall apart. I stopped going to class, partied way too much and way too hard, I had an insane amount of trouble sleeping because my mind would race with the worst of thoughts. I kept many of my friends and family up at night worried sick about me, and I was numb to it all for awhile. Everyone did what they could in a powerless situation like this, and the one person I wanted to care the most carried on beautifully without me.

I would come home from school every other weekend to work, and nothing was the way I had left it. My relationship was falling apart. This person was too "busy" to see me, and sometimes we wouldn't speak for entire weeks yet somehow we were still in a relationship. I didn't understand, couldn't understand how a person was capable of treating someone this way. I felt confined and helpless until one night I confessed everything to one of my best friends. I poured out all my pain in front of her, and I finally told her I wanted to die. I was never so serious in my life.

The next morning I heard my mom and brother whispering in the other room. I had an awful sinking feeling that some of what I said last night had gotten to them.

The next thing I knew, I was in a car with my entire family on the way to Yale New Haven Hospital, I was told I'd only stay there a night after talking with a doctor. One night turned into a week. Another car took me to the psych ward and I turned to look out the window at my family, devastated on the sidewalk, as the car pulled away. I repeated in my head "just breathe," like they were the only two words I'd ever known.

During my stay there, I'd met so many girls who had been through much worse, and it motivated me to participate actively in all the programs they had for us and be honest with my doctors because parts of me knew I could do this on my own now.

As scared I was, I know now it saved my life, and my very best friends had everything to do with that. I realized I needed a change of scenery after I returned to school and finished out the semester. I felt it was better to stay closer to home.

I enrolled at Housatonic Community College, supposedly only for a semester, but one semester turned into two and this year I'm beginning my third. Although it took me almost two years to recover from what happened, I know for certain it would have taken longer if I wasn't surrounded by people that love me and good opportunities. My grades have improved, my health and attitude are back to the way they used to be, and my overall outlook on life has completely changed.

I know I've come out of this stronger than I've ever been and learned so much about people, love, and relationships that I refuse to make those same mistakes again.

It's important to persevere through the hard times in order to be grateful for the good ones and to prove to yourself that giving up is not an option.






Dealing with People

Are you a student at HCC who is stressed out from work and people in general and don’t know how to deal with it? Here are some helpful hints.

By Honer Sofi
Staff Writer

I know from experience students at HCC go through stress and pain dealing with customers at work, and just dealing with people in general. I have three jobs and I am a full time student at HCC. Trust me, it’s hard dealing with people all day long, but someone has to do it.

I always start my day off by drinking a medium regular coffee from Dunkin Donuts. That usually prepares me for the day at work. Then I think about how I can get in and out without any complaints from anyone. Anyways, that’s the life you have to deal with when working for a company like Stop & Shop or other jobs that have to deal with customer service and retail. We all have to work to make a living.

So when I am at work I try not to let the upset customer know that I am just as angry as they are. If I do, it escalates into more trouble and headaches. You have to think about the customer too, because they might have had a fight with someone else before they came to you.

What I do is listen to whatever they want to complain about, and try to fix the problem or reason with them. And sometimes I sing, dance, or just make a joke to make them smile. When you see a person smiling and being happy, it helps make your life easier, and theirs.

But if the customer is an ass, then he or she will always be an ass. There is nothing you can do to change them around. I am talking about the people who like to make everyone’s life a living hell. The best thing to do is to control yourself and not to become one of them. These are the customers that come in the store angry at life, the world, and everyone. They never smile or say “hello” or even a “hi” when they walk in the store. Not to mention the way they throw money on the counter and asking for an item with an angry tone. These people can not be changed trust me I tried lots of time. It just doesn’t work.

For example, the other day a customer came to the gas station that I work at and wanted a refund on a prepaid phone card that he bought earlier, even though the policy is no refund on all prepaid cards. So I told him, “Listen man, I can’t just refund a card for $20 without the boss’s permission because I have to pay out of my pocket if I refund the card.”

Then he said “I don’t really give a damn about what happens I need my money right now or else”. Then he said “I am not leaving this store until I get my money”.

At that point I tried to just ignore him. That’s when he threw the phone card in my face, and said, “Listen, if I don’t get my money right now I am goanna hurt somebody in this store”.

At this point I really wanted to fight this customer, but luckily I had someone working with who broke us apart from fighting.

I didn’t argue with him anymore and called the manager to come and handle it ,or else there was going to a fight between me and the customer, if he didn’t come to the store and take care of the customer. This situation could have turned out differently: if I were to argue with him, it probably would have ended in a fistfight. Sometimes you just have to let someone with more power handle the problem, unless you are looking into losing your job, which is not worth it. If you lose your job, the customer wins.

There are several ways to deal with these kinds of people, but I prefer my way: listen to what they have to say even if you know they’re wrong, and always smile. Trust me; it works.

Then there is school, a place where I try to get away from all of these problems. When I am here, I actually have a chance to study and forget about all the headaches of dealing with people and their problems.

By reading my story you all should know how hard it is working part-time or even full-time job for a retail store that deals with customer service, and why school is so important to go to and graduate from. Trust me, from all the experience I had working part-time at Stop & Shop it made me realize that there is nothing more important than school, because that’s the only way you will succeed in life. Or else you will end up working miserably for the rest of your life.


It's My Life!


Why Not Take Control?


In order to change we must be sick and tired of being sick and tired. We must also realize that the power to modify our state of being lies in our own hands.

By Janiece Jackson
Arts & Entertainment Editor

Have you ever dealt with a subtle case of anxiety in which all that is in you wants nothing more than to swiftly make it through the day, yet an incontrollable lackadaisical force overpowers you? I know that feeling far too well. Not only have I defeated my ultra laid-back alter ego; I have mastered a little trait called “all togetherness.”

For the greater part of my 22 years in existence, I battled with lack of motivation. Forget about completing tasks; getting started on them was the hard part! At one point, my parents thought it would be a good idea to change my last name from Jackson to Procrastinator.

I had good grades in school. All I set myself to, I completed and quite well. However, there is no doubt in my mind that motivation, time management and a little extra “umph” here and there would have made my early years of learning fundamentally enjoyable and less mandated.

So shortly after high school and early into my college experience, I decided to alter my way of living. My then current employment at a health facility had quite an impact on my uncompromising need to change.

Being surrounded by sound bodies, minds, and souls, forced me to realize that perhaps I too needed to be one with myself and all aspects that make me who I am. It just seemed like a great notion to be a little more on point. If I could find great motivation in taking care of myself, perhaps I could find even more joy in punctually and fruitfully completing and presenting all that was expected of me.

From that point on I took matters in to my own hands. I took advantage of my gym membership, transformed my physique, and became girlishly athletic. I love waking up and having a great mini-workout in the morning. It allows me to productively make it through the day, and turns my vigor off just in time for a great rest.

At one point in my life, I faced an indescribable case of exhaustion, in which I wanted to give up on all that was before me. The four to six hours of restless sleep were simply not enough to help me make it through my work-filled day. I could no longer live a life that lacked peaceful slumber, so I prepared a schedule for myself that would get me back on a timely and healthy track. My schedule provides adequate time for all of my responsibilities, including the recommended seven to nine hours of sleep.

It’s a common misconception that in order to be healthy we have to give up eating anything that taste remotely yummy and stick to eating things that taste like chalk and grass. However, I realized that chocolate frosted & rainbow sprinkled donuts, and a Capri Sun were far from being a part of a well-balanced breakfast. I scheduled a free consultation with a nutritionist and got some great tips on how to balance my diet. As a result, I now know which foods give me energy to help me sprint my way through my to-do list, and which ones keep me wondering, “Where should I begin?”

The difficult part about changing your lifestyle is coming to terms with yourself and realizing that it is necessary. Once you have taken that step most things in life begin to flow with pleasant consistency.

If nothing else in life, we are presented with an opportunity to take complete control of our physical and emotional states. Unfortunately, we are not provided with an owner’s manual at birth that explains how to systematically live our lives. However, we are blessed with the ability to live up to the highest standards.

Come join me in living a life of healthy bliss. It is important to know what is good for you as an individual and what will keep you on your feet and ready to march forward. I don’t regret changing my lifestyle and what I allow to be a part of it. After all, it’s my life; why not take control?





Little Piece of Home


Sometimes to get ahead you just need a little piece of home to push you through.

By Ashley Chapman
Senior Staff Writer



Let’s take a little trip down memory lane, that broken, painful, tear-flooded lane. I HATED high school (though I secretly miss the simplicity of it all). The only thing that makes high school bearable is your best friend, and the same thing goes for college.

Going into a new school was an extremely nerve-wracking experience. I did not want to go to college - I actually wanted nothing to do with it. I was perfectly comfortable living at home, waking up at six in the morning, going to high school—dealing with the ridiculous drama, then going home and doing whatever.

But when I tried to tell my parents I didn’t want to go to college, they, like many parents, didn’t want to hear it. So we decided to “ease” my way into college and it seemed best to go to a community college first. It would be cheap, close to home, and I wouldn’t have to deal with an annoying roommate. The only problem was that my best friend was attending Western Connecticut State University. Shot to the heart.

None of my other friends were planning on going to HCC either. They decided on an array of different schools. One went to NYU, another to Marymount, one to Post University. I was mortified. I felt like a lost puppy. Who was going to be my study partner? Who was going to sit with me in the courtyard? These ridiculous questions, which were my main concern, flooded my mind. And before I got the answers, school was in session.

Well, first day of class was an experience in itself. I called my mother when I was two seconds away from the building, flipping out. I couldn’t get myself to turn into the parking garage. She told me to basically suck it up and just deal with it. I dealt with it by hanging up with her and calling my best friend, Jessica. Talking to her made me feel more at ease. She was my little piece of home intertwined in that very cell phone. As we were talking, I ended up in front of my class. It was the moment of truth. It was game time. I was officially a freaked out college student.

The whole year is still kind of a blur. I went to class, did my work, got good grades and counted down the days until all my friends were coming home. I was not myself at all. I was rather quiet, which is unlike me, and I didn’t really go out of my way to make friends. Some people may say that I was insecure, but I don’t think so. I just think I was broken hearted, to be honest.

I called Jessica every day. We would talk about how much we didn’t like school, our problems that were going on, and her new friends. I went to go visit her a lot, but it wasn’t the same. Then I made it my mission to grow up and apply to Westconn.

In the midst of applying, working retail, and doing my school work, Jessica called me and was telling me about what was going on in her life. The conversation ended with her telling me she was moving back home and going to enroll at HCC. We both were really excited. We both had declared the same major when we were around five, so we knew we would be taking basically every class together, and our grades would boost. That’s the thing with having a true best friend. A best friend makes up for your shortcomings. And that is exactly what happened.

Stepping into school with Jessica felt like stepping into a new life. We actually wanted to learn, and we looked forward to class. On my off days, when homework was the last thing on my mind, she pushed me. When she didn’t feel like going to class because she was too tired, I showed up at her house with a coffee in tow to give her an extra little boost. It was amazing, and still is.

We have been going to school together now for three semesters, and we obviously have taken every class together. Of course, there are times when we goof around, or take the day off—but we always do really well. I really can’t stress enough how important I think it is for people to feel comfortable at school. My comfort is Jessica.



10 Years Apart

A Story of Two Brothers
By Rob Sheftic
Staff Writer

On a crisp autumn day in the fall of 2001, a fourteen-year-old boy is outside playing with his neighborhood friends when he sees his older brother stop by to see the family, shortly after moving out of the house. As his older brother walks up the driveway and past his younger brother with a “ hey what’s up little bro” the boy realizes that there really isn’t much a brother-brother relationship going on here; in fact, there hasn’t been any type of relationship going on at all. The one thing that stands out between them is that they’re both sporting their favorite football team by wearing their New England Patriot hats.

When you and your brother are ten years apart, in most cases it will be difficult to really form any kind of bond. When you’re ten and he’s twenty, you’re really not going to be spending much time together or hanging out because there’s just too much out in the world that a twenty-year-old can be doing. You as the younger brother have your own friends,. and there just really isn’t any reason that you would be hanging out with a twenty-year-old. There isn’t much that you can talk about because with an age separation like that, you’re each experiencing completely different things and you couldn’t possibly relate to each other. One thing that we did have in common, and really all that seemed noticeable was that we were each brought up to be fans of the New England Patriots and up until 2001; that was all my brother and I had.

That same day in the early fall of 2001 as my brother was getting ready to leave, he asked me a question that 1. I had never heard before and 2. Left me in shock... he asked me to come over the next day and watch football with him. Now just the question alone had left me with a feeling I really never felt before. My brother who looks forward to every Sunday, watching his team go out onto the field and compete, and here he is asking me to be a part of that with him. I played it "pretty cool" simply saying “yeah that sounds good, I'll see you at game time." Meanwhile, inside I'm ready to burst because I'll get to experience a Sunday during the football season with him. As I went to sleep that Saturday night, I remember finding it very hard to shut my eyes because all I could do was imagine what the day would be like ahead of me.

The sun came up that morning and I simply couldn't sit still. I had to go for a morning run just to get moving. I was just too excited to sit around and wait for game time to roll around. I arrived fairly early to watch some pre-game with him, and the rest is all history. Since that day in 2001, there have only been two or three instances where we didn't watch the Patriot's games during the football season. There just isn't much that's going to stand in our way of not watching the games together. From blizzard weather conditions during the winter all the way to a severely sprained foot (where I could not drive and he came and picked me up.) If I count it up, that would make this on-going season the seventh season that we continue our tradition.

What makes this whole story perfect for me is that it’s more than just football. Since that first game together were able to talk about anything that not just brothers would talk about, but best friends. We talk on the phone or text message now nearly every day. In 2005 he was married and I was the best man at his wedding, and shortly after his wife had a baby boy. I am proud to be the boy’s Godson. Day in and day out you see a relationship that for about sixteen years just wasn’t there. He’s always there if I need to talk, as I am there for him. For me it’s really tough to put into words that you can understand, it’s simply just been a blessing and a joy for me knowing that I now have that brother that I technically always had, but that I now have that brother-brother, actually more like best friend to best friend relationship.


Perfection?

The Truth about Christianity
This article challenges the misconception that Christianity and perfection are somehow linked.

By Sarah Hooper
Senior Staff Writer

“He who thinks that he is finished is finished. Those who think they have arrived have lost their way. Those who think they have reached their goal have missed it. Those who think they are saints are demons.” (Henri Nouwen, The Genesee Diary)

As a little girl, I didn’t believe in impracticable things, at least not for long. I saw the world in small increments and, unlike other kids my age, the impossible seemed impossible to me. Everyone talks about their view of God as a child, but I didn’t really know God.
Make it personal; It’s about you and God!
Photo courtesy of www.holyghostonline.com

My Nana, my great-grandmother was the first person to talk to me about God and to take me to church. I was eight years old. Her impact wasn’t from the things she told me about God or the church she brought me to; it was who she was. Looking back, she seemed different from the rest of my family,having been the only Christian.

It was a span of nine years until I went to church again. My Nana died and any hope she had in me breaking the generational curses in my family seemed to have gone with her. God and the whole idea of being a Christian appeared unattainable to me; so when I walked into church again at 17 years old I felt completely out of place. I was a colossal screw up and my background wasn’t filled with Sunday school and youth groups. As these thoughts multiplied, so did my feelings of inadequacy.

If these people only knew who I really was, what I come from, and what I’ve done. What was I thinking coming here? My sins wouldn’t even compare to theirs. Four years later, I now know I was wrong. What separates Christians isn’t sin: it’s repentance.

Romans 5:12 says, “For all have sinned and fall short.” Therefore, the connection between Christianity and perfection is a myth. The belief that once you except God in your life you never make mistakes again is untrue. Becoming a Christian doesn’t mean you stop being human or suddenly have it all figured out. This fallacy is what made me feel insufficient and what I think separates people from God in general.

Two years ago, my faith lead me to do something that I alone would have lacked the courage to do; After 19 years of silence I wrote my father a letter and initiated contact. Two years later, I can barely remember a time when he was gone. That transformation revealed to me the power of prayer.

This past year has been the biggest test of my faith since I’ve become a Christian. Now I am forced to figure out what Christianity means in my life.

Someone told me once that relationships are always in constant motion, always moving, whether it’s forward or backward. A relationship with God is no different.

I think for so long I only saw what was above the surface. However, accepting God isn’t about image, it’s about relationships, a relationship with him. Therefore, your childhood, your past mistakes, even your future ones, are not enough of a reason to not know him and they don’t make you different. Your relationship with God will never be perfect, because nothing is, but it will flourish.

My ability to make colossal mistakes still creeps up on me. The little girl who couldn’t look ahead is still there and because I had no picture of God as a child sometimes he feels unattainable. However, the realist in me knows that when I was 17 years old my life changed forever.

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

The October Chase Begins: A Baseball Playoff Preview

WEB-EXCLUSIVE!
By Rob Sheftic
Staff Writer

These pitchers will be looking to carry their teams to the promised land.
Photo courtesy of www.sportsline.com

As the dog days of summer have come to an end ,and the cool crisp October nights begin to take place, the long awaited baseball postseason begins. From February to September baseball teams go through a daily grind just looking for one thing: to be able to play in October and obtain a World Series Championship. The American League and the National League will both be represented when the playoffs begin, with each team vying for that opportunity to pop the corks and toast the champagne when all is said and done.

The American league is all set with Boston, Cleveland and Anaheim winning their divisions. The wild card spot is filled by the dreaded New York Yankees, meaning, yes boys and girls, it will be yet another October where both the Red Sox and the Yankees will be heading for the ultimate prize: a chance to play in the World Series.

In December, Boston was declared the favorite to win it all this year. They made the biggest splash during the off-season when they signed free agent Daisuke Matsuzaka, a Japanese pitcher who joined a pitching staff that already featured starters Josh Beckett and Curt Schilling. The Red Sox also have one of the youngest premier pitchers in the sport to pitch their ninth inning in Jonathan Papelbon.

With all their pitching as well as an offense that still has names like David Ortiz, Manny Ramirez, and Kevin Youkilis, it seemed as though Boston would have an easy trip through the season, into the playoffs, and to a second World Championship in four seasons. The Anaheim Angels, Cleveland Indians, and, especially their century-long rivals, the New York Yankees will all be looking to derail Boston’s chances of capturing another World Series title.

The Anaheim Angels in the post-season is becoming a nice tradition for all their fans, having won their third divisional title in four seasons. Led by slugger Vladimir Guerrero and his 27 home-runs and 125 runs batted in, he will continue to be counted on to be one of the most feared hitters going into the postseason. One aspect that Anaheim has that none of the other teams going in can compare to is their speed. Chone Figgins, Orlando Cabrera, and Reggie Willits all finished in the top 20 in stolen bases this year according to espn.com. These three will be looking to reach base and run havoc around the base paths causing problems for any opposing pitcher.

The Cleveland Indians are one the most surprising teams to be heading to the playoffs this year. This will be their first playoff appearance since 2001. The main reason Cleveland is heading into October is because they have the best one-two punch in starting pitching that baseball has to offer. C.C Sabathia and Fausto Carmona combined to win 37 games this season. Sabathia posted a career high in earned run average (ERA) with a 3.21 according to sportsline.com. Carmona also had an ERA of 3.06. Each pitcher has consistently shown the ability to dominate and will be tough to beat. Throw in the fact that a team could potentially see these feared starters two times each in a postseason series and that could make life hard for the opposing hitters.

What kind of October would it be if the New York Yankees weren’t apart of it, besides a pleasant one? All kidding aside, the Yankees are back yet again. They started out their season pathetic by fans’ standards as well as Yankee standards. After the all-star break, that was all forgotten. The Yankees were one of, if not the, hottest team in baseball during the second half of the season. They even came as close as one and a half games behind the Red Sox. Although they were unable to catch them, they easily won the wild card. One name carried their offense through all the struggling times and all the way to their postseason clincher: Alex Rodriguez or, what most people will be calling him when this season is over, MVP. A-Rod only led all of baseball in just about every category: home-runs (54) RBIs (156) and slugging percentage (.645). Nobody is discrediting the season that A-Rod put up, but in the back of every Yankees fan’s mind is the fact that since A-Rod has arrived in New York, his offense has disappeared in the playoffs. If he can’t produce in the playoffs like he did during the season he will undoubtedly face more public scrutiny. I know which way I’ll be rooting for.

The National League had what some people may think of a “below average” season of sorts. The Chicago Cubs tied for the best record in the league with 90 wins while each team to win a division in the American League won at least 94. One quote that everybody who has a mind for baseball repeats in their head once the playoffs start is, “Once you get to October, anything can happen.”

That’s the exact mindset that the Cubs are taking as they head to the playoffs chasing a World Series Championship, a championship that has eluded them since 1908. Chicago’s offense was exactly what was expected of them after bringing in prized free-agent outfielder Alfonso Soriano. He recently set a major league record for home-runs by a lead-off hitter in the month of September with 14 according to chicagocubs.com. After Soriano follows Derek Lee and Aramis Ramirez both of whom had solid offensive seasons each hitting above .300 respectively.

There’s one key for a team to be successful in the postseason and that’s successful pitching. Chicago will feature a one-two combo of Carlos Zambrano (18 wins during the season) and Ted Lilly (15 wins). Those two pitchers coupled with Chicago’s potentially powerful offense lineup could be the reason the Cubs win a Championship for the first time in nearly 100 years.

Arizona is also a team that caught many by surprise. The Diamondbacks really don’t stand out to many people, but they do one thing that’s essential: they win ball games. They have an ace pitcher in Brandon Webb who, during a span between July and August, went 49 innings without allowing a run, which lasted five consecutive starts. They don’t have a flashy offense like some of the other teams, but they do enough to win the games they need to. They don’t make many errors, they run the bases well and they know how to finish out the games led by closer Jose Valverde and his 47 saves.

In one of the most memorable “collapses” in baseball memory, nobody will ever forget what happened on the final weekend of the baseball season. The New York Mets had a seven game lead in their division with 17 games left to play on September 12. The Mets had seemingly punched their ticket to October since there was no way any team could let that lead slip away.

WRONG! The Mets went 5-12 during their last 17 games only to see the Philadelphia Phillies catch them leaving each team with identical records heading into the final game of the season. The Mets never showed up to play and were bludgeoned by the Florida Marlins 8-1 while the Phillies took care of the Nationals, easily winning 6-1. Since the beginning of the season the Mets were assumed a shoo-in to be playing when the postseason began, proving once more to everybody out there that no lead and no team is a guarantee to make the playoffs. The Phillies never stopped playing out their season, and due to an embarrassing collapse on one team’s part, they will be one of the eight teams left playing in October.

The Colorado Rockies and San Diego Padres took a different approach then the other teams did in making the post-season. For only the seventh time in baseball history the playoffs were not set in stone after the 162 game season. With Colorado and San Diego tied with the same record, a one-game playoff had to be played after the season concluded with the winner getting the final spot in the National League. In one of the most entertaining games that I’ve watched in a long time, these two teams weren’t ready to go home after the traditional nine innings. Both teams were tied heading into the 13th inning when San Diego scored two runs to go ahead in the top-half of the inning. Colorado was down to their last breath and it wasn’t getting any easier when San Diego’s prime time future hall-of-fame closer Trevor Hoffman coming into the game to do what he does best: finish the game and send the opponents home packing.

Colorado had a different idea. Backed by a home crowd that never stopped cheering since the beginning of the game, the Rockies ran off a string of three hits and a sacrifice fly to surprise everyone and punch the final ticket to the 2007 Major League Baseball Playoffs.

One month...Eight teams....One trophy...Enjoy the ride