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(01/10/12 5:40am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>From his pullout bed in the middle of the living room floor, Bryan stirs beneath his soft World Wrestling Entertainment blanket.After a few minutes, his stomach starts to growl. He ate a bowl of cottage cheese before going to bed last night so he wouldn’t be hungry this morning, but it didn’t work.Soon, he’s up, the buzz of the alarm clock pulsing as he and his younger sister Amber roll off their bed mats.Amber’s stomach hurts. It rumbles. It contracts. It whines. She’s hungry and would rather have her breakfast right away, but she has to wait until they get to school, where she’ll eat a free hot breakfast. Today she’s craving waffles, but she won’t get them. She hasn’t had waffles in a long time.Bryan and Amber’s mom, Tammy, coaxes them into the silver truck before the rain soaks their clothes. She’s not working, so she has the time to take and pick them up from school most days.In the car, Bryan thinks about lunch, his favorite part of the school day. By the time school starts, lunch will only be four hours away. The words “hungry children” usually evoke images of children in Africa, stomachs bloated and rib cages protruding from thin flesh, but there are hungry kids who go to school less than two miles from IU’s campus. Fairview Elementary is within throwing distance of gourmet restaurants, organic grocery stores and dorm cafeterias overflowing with ethnic foods.Like 92 percent of the students at Fairview, Bryan and Amber take part in the free and reduced lunch program. The rate at Fairview is significantly higher than the state average of 45.3 percent, according to the Indiana Department of Education’s 2009-10 school year data. The National Food Research and Action Center survey results place the national average at 63 percent, a number that is likely higher than what most presume.The program at Fairview serves foods such as French toast sticks for breakfast, apple slices for a midday snack and chicken fingers for lunch. But they can’t always provide for their students. Saturdays and Sundays turn into a time when food, especially fresh fruits and vegetables, becomes an uncertainty. Bronwyn Shroyer, the social worker at Fairview, spends her days making sure students are taken care of, which includes finding them food. In front of her desk, she holds a box of Rice-A-Roni and Hamburger Helper, asking a female student which meal she would prefer to take home. The boxes hang heavy in Shroyer’s hands. She wishes she could give her both. When the students leave school grounds, she wonders if they’ll have enough food for dinner that night. Shroyer keeps extra snacks in her room inside a large cardboard box. Today, the box is empty. She has already passed out the extra stash of granola bars and prepackaged cookies. But today is also Thursday — backpack day.The Community Kitchen of Monroe County, a nonprofit organization that provides daily food services to those in need, delivers backpacks of weekend food supplies for students to eat throughout the weekend.Each backpack contains around eight pounds of food. There’s protein — a can of chicken, tuna, beans or peanut butter; a grain — Quaker oatmeal, pasta and miniature boxes of cereal; maybe a meal helper and always fruits and veggies, which sometimes come in cans or plastic cups. With the exception of a fresh produce item that is purchased some weeks, all of the food is donated.Thursdays at Fairview are like Christmas morning. Kids linger outside Shroyer’s door to peek at their bags but will wait to get them until they’re called down with their class. “Can I get my backpack now?” a young boy asks Shroyer.“Not yet,” she says, a soft laugh masking her tired eyes.He knows he has to wait, but that won’t stop him from asking her nearly 20 times that day if he can get his backpack. He speaks up, saying that he’s hungry, and she worries about whether he gets enough food at home.While six schools participate in the Backpack Buddy Program, Fairview became the program’s first school in August 2005. The Community Kitchen approached Jennifer Kamstra, who was Fairview’s social worker from 2005 to 2008, about its idea to help students in need of food during the weekend. Based on the number of students who received free or reduced lunches, Kamstra said Fairview was an obvious first choice. They asked Kamstra to identify certain children she thought were in need of extra assistance and have parents fill out permission slips to enroll them in the program.When it started, 30 students signed up to receive backpacks. Now there are 43 backpacks, which Shroyer estimates help feed 100 people.***It’s raining outside. It’s actually pouring. But Julius Lee, operations manager at the Community Kitchen, has 43 backpacks to bring inside Fairview, and the fat drops of rain are an insignificant detail.For kids like Bryan and Amber who woke up this morning feeling hungry, what he’s dropping off matters.From the car parked on West Seventh Street, he slings bundles of backpacks around his arms, thumping up the wet concrete stairs and pushing open the rain-streaked glass doors. The beads of rain cling to the fibers of his knit cap as he drops the first load of backpacks on the ground of Shroyer’s bright orange office. He lets out a breath before he gets the second load of backpacks, which will be followed by a third, until the floor is covered with the bags, each marked with a number in slightly faded white ink that corresponds to a certain child. Amber and Bryan are number seven.The last thing Lee plops down is a plastic tub full of pears in Ziploc bags. “When children have food to eat, they are psychologically better at whatever tasks are set before them,” Lee said. “We’re just helping make it easier for a parent or guardian to prepare a balanced meal.”Bryan and Amber share the duty of retrieving backpack number seven. This week, it’s Amber’s turn. When her class is called down to get their backpacks, her classmates zoom down the hallway, jumping down the stairs and singing songs about how it’s Thursday. Amber walks slowly and drags her hand against the wall.Amber’s second grade teacher, Joshua Livingston, knows the majority of his students eat both breakfast and lunch at school. These two meals may be all that some students will receive that day. During free time, kids pull out miniature boxes of Honey Nut Cheerios, but Amber runs to play monkey-in-the-middle with two of her classmates. However, Livingston notices times when she will rest her head on her desk, stare off into space and sit quietly. He assumes the signs of fatigue relate to being undernourished. He says Amber is humble and knows exactly what she has. She keeps her thoughts about hunger to herself.When Amber gets to Shroyer’s office, she walks over to her desk and stares. The other girls in the room snatch their backpacks and start rummaging through to see what they got this week. Maybe they have Cheetos or Chef Boyardee, but please, let there be macaroni and cheese.Shroyer encourages Amber to go get her backpack, but Amber can’t seem to find it. She crawls over the bags and turns them over sideways. She’s convinced it’s missing. Shroyer’s intern, Holly Paul, grabs the one near Amber’s foot and hands it to her. “Here it is.”She blushes and throws one strap over her shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispers. At the tub full of pears, Amber pulls out the sack on top and wrinkles her nose. “I hate pears.” Her eyes soften. “But I’ll take some because my Mom likes them.”Amber and her dad used to pick pears in their neighbor’s yard. There were always extra pears, and the neighbors didn’t seem to mind. Even though Amber doesn’t like to eat pears, she had fun because she picked them with her dad. Two years ago, they had to move from their trailer to a house.Amber swings the bag of fruit in her hand. “That’s when we stopped picking pears.”***Amber thinks healthy foods have a lot of vitamins — grapes, chocolate milk, apples. She says drinking milk makes your muscles strong, but she’s not sure why. As long as something tastes good, she’s happy to eat or drink it. When the family’s not in the kitchen, they’re in the living room. It’s the room they like the best. There are three bedrooms in the house, but the four of them choose to sleep in the living room some nights. Bryan and Amber sleep on the floor. Mom and Bladen, her youngest son, sleep on the two couches. Spending time in the living room reminds them of their dad, Bryan.For six years, their dad suffered from diabetes and congestive heart failure. Toward the end of their dad’s life, he got to the point where he could hardly walk, so they moved his bed into the living room. That way, he could watch his kids and eat dinner with them. He died last year on Thanksgiving.Bryan and his dad, whom he was named for, shared a love of Salisbury steak. Mom gets Bryan the frozen Salisbury steak dinners that he can pop in the microwave. They used to buy the meals in packs of five. “We only buy four now,” Bryan says, his eyes following his swinging feet that don’t quite touch the ground. ***Outside of Fairview’s cafeteria, the Wildcat Café, the kids wait at the door with their hands cupped, applying a pump of Purell before they can get their lunch.Two women place cartons of fish sticks, turkey with noodles and french fries onto each Styrofoam tray. The kids can grab containers of salad or grapes, but nearly everyone takes a small plastic cup filled with cheesecake. Around circular tables, Bryan and the other fourth-grade boys pretend to wrestle, throwing in the occasional old school dance move, such as the sprinkler. Multitasking is essential.But lunch is only 30 minutes, and Bryan is a slow eater, so it seems shorter. Midway through his noodles, he looks up to find his classmates gone. At Amber’s table, between bites of fish sticks and grapes, she talks about her dad with her friend.The other girls giggle as Amber tells her friend how she used to eat strawberries with her dad. Her friend slowly nods her head, but her gaze is fixed on the girl shouting about the pudding.Amber was happy with today’s lunch, but now, she really wants strawberries. But it’s not in their Backpack Buddy. With her pink school bag over her shoulders and her navy-blue Backpack Buddy hanging from her elbow, she runs out to the silver truck, slings her backpacks into the backseat and jumps in. Soon, it will be dinner time, and she’s already hungry.
(01/10/12 4:05am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>From his pullout bed in the middle of the living room floor, Bryan stirs beneath his soft, World Wrestling Entertainment blanket. After a few minutes, his stomach starts to growl. He ate a bowl of cottage cheese before going to bed last night so he wouldn’t be hungry this morning, but it didn’t work. Soon, he’s up, the buzz of the alarm clock pulsing as he and his younger sister Amber roll off their bed mats. Amber’s stomach hurts. It rumbles. It contracts. It whines. She’s hungry and would rather have her breakfast right away, but she has to wait until they get to school, where she’ll eat a free hot breakfast. Today she’s craving waffles, but she won’t get them. She hasn’t had waffles in a long time. Bryan and Amber’s mom, Tammy, coaxes them into the silver truck before the rain soaks their clothes. She’s not working, so she has the time to take and pick them up from school most days. In the car, Bryan thinks about lunch, his favorite part of the school day. By the time school starts, lunch will be only four hours away.
(12/01/11 5:39am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>They were born swimmers. They used concrete-filled coffee canisters for weight training, endured 5 a.m. practices and dominated their competition for three decades.IU’s historic success in men’s swimming is largely attributed to world-renowned former Coach Doc Counsilman, who led the team to six straight national championships.With the direction of current IU Coach Ray Looze, the legacy continues as members of the swim team travel to Atlanta for the USA Swimming Winter Nations today. But the swimmers from Doc’s era, which lasted from 1957 to 1991, know the real magic came from Doc’s wife Marge’s lasagna.Marge was a mom-away-from-home, showering the swimmers with unconditional love as they gathered around the family table, laughing and savoring forkfuls of rich marinara. Her undeniable influence on these swimmers — including my father, who swam for IU in the mid 1960s — is evident as they reflect on their time at IU and how Marge adopted them into the Counsilman family.Dec. 28 would have been Doc’s 91st birthday. He died from Parkinson’s disease in 2004. Now 87, Marge honors her husband daily at 7:30 a.m. as she glides through the glassy waters of the Monroe County YMCA pool. Swimming connects her to her husband.“He wasn’t perfect. No one is,” Marge said. “But I thought he was.” She said she lives to talk about Doc, about his passion, his dedication, his excellence. Beneath her crystal-blue eyes and soft smile, she is too humble to acknowledge her impact on Doc and the team.Marge grew up in Ohio, where baseball was the long-hailed sport, and knew nothing about swimming until she met Doc at the pool on the first day of summer after high school graduation. He kicked her out for eating a milk chocolate Clark bar but asked to court her a month later.“When I first met Doc, I didn’t quite know what to make of him,” Marge said. “He kicked me out of the pool. I didn’t know anything about swimming, competitions. I knew nothing about such an animal.”When they married in 1943, she quickly became immersed in the swimming world. After moving to several Midwest universities where Doc had coaching positions, they came to Bloomington in 1957 before Doc took the role as head coach in 1958.From 1957 to 1991, Counsilman’s team won 20 consecutive Big Ten Titles, won six consecutive NCAA championships and produced 47 Olympic medals.Coaches from around the world traveled to IU to watch practices, curious about the team’s “special sauce.” They were drawn to Doc’s use of underwater cameras and his invention of the swimming pace clock. What they didn’t see was Marge — supporting her husband’s new techniques, raising a family of four and acting as a motherly figure to hundreds of swimmers.“We were parents to them,” Marge said. “We would laugh at one another, and they felt like they could talk around us and give their opinion.”Jesse Steinfeldt, a professor of counseling and educational psychology at the IU School of Education, focuses on the psychological development of student athletes. Steinfeldt said he sees the coaching staff as playing a vital role in the athlete’s identity, having the potential to nurture values of togetherness and high self-esteem.“If the team atmosphere is one of respect and comfort, it can help the athlete in other aspects of their life,” Steinfeldt said. “Sports are the perfect laboratory to teach people interpersonal skills that can create a better lifestyle.”There wasn’t a swimmer on Doc’s team who did not visit the Counsilman home at least once. In fact, not a day passed without a few swimmers sitting at the dinner table. Sometimes Marge would stay up until 2 a.m. to help one of the swimmers finish an English paper.Chuck Richards, who swam for Doc from 1964 to 1967, left his home in the state of Washington to venture into the heart of the Midwest.“A lot of us, especially from my generation, started to head to Indiana from farther away places, and Marge played a bigger and bigger role in the lives of the swimmers,” Richards said. “She created a bit of a home away from home.”Other IU coaches’ wives did not want the pressure of inviting athletes into their homes. One day, when Marge invited a group of them to lunch, they confronted her.“They accosted me, telling me to quit,” Marge said. “But I told them, ‘I’m not. It works. I have a good time. They have a good time, so I’m not going to stop.'"And she never did.Marge recalled meeting future Olympian Mark Spitz for the first time, a somewhat shy teenager knocking on the door of her hotel room during a winter training trip to Florida in 1968. Marge remembered how Spitz’s father wanted the opposite of whatever his son desired, including a career as a TV star. As Spitz became comfortable with the Counsilman family, Doc and Marge were able to create a relaxed environment for the future nine-time Olympic gold medalist.Together, the husband-and-wife duo were at the forefront of the swimmers’ lives, encouraging an appreciation for classical music, comforting those who came up short in Olympic trials and teaching them the value of hard work by building pace clocks in their basement.While Marge might not have been at practices, she made it to every home meet, typed Doc’s manuscripts, ran the summer swim programs and had numerous gatherings at their home.“She was very much on the team,” Richards said. “She wasn’t just Doc’s wife. She was part of the crew.”Alan Somers, one of IU’s most decorated swimmers from the early ’60s, remembered Marge as a quiet but constant presence, a woman who made sacrifices to take care of her family while Doc was head coach.“The biggest thing Marge did was that she allowed Doc to do what he thought he needed to do,” Somers said. “She never made any demands that distracted him from his needs as a coach, but I also never detected any sense of martyrdom.”In 2004, Marge received the International Swimming Hall of Fame’s Grand Dame Award, which praised the “surrogate mother” of IU men’s swimming. In 2005, Somers also created the Marge Counsilman Swimming Scholarship as a tribute to her role in the program’s achievements.“I did it because I think she had as much to do with the success of the program in her own way,” Somers said. “All the swimmers know that.”Every year, Marge writes more than 200 Christmas cards to former swimmers who now live around the world.I remember receiving a Christmas card from her every December as I grew up. I yearned to listen to my father’s stories about Doc and Marge and how he found a sense of family in Bloomington with the Counsilmans. I laughed when he told me about flinging kickboards across the pool and wolfing down entire roasted chickens at the Cousilman table. One year, Marge sent him her lasagna recipe, which is safely nestled in my recipe-card box.When I came to IU from Portland, Ore., in 2008, my father had just passed away from a heart attack while doing what he loved most: swimming. When I arrived in Bloomington, Marge was there to ensure I felt at home, just as she was there for my father more than 40 years earlier.Her descriptions of my father as a “very handsome guy whom all of the ladies wanted to date” always makes me smile.Richards, who now lives in Oregon, still said he considers Marge a motherly figure. He calls Marge every few months and stops by her house first when he visits Bloomington. Living alone in a house filled with Doc’s collection of rare Audubon prints and black and white swim team photos, Marge is eager to visit and reminisce with any of Doc’s former swimmers.“Marge was the underpinning of what enabled the team’s excellence,” Richards said. “She was the meat and potatoes behind Doc and the team. She was a great person to talk to and provided a sense of home.”
(11/15/11 4:01am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>On Saturday mornings, she’s in a sea of preteens scurrying around a room of blue wrestling mats, body odor seeping into the cloth straps of their black headgear. A young boy will inevitably look up to find that his competitor is an unusual suspect: an 11-year-old, dirty-blonde, 100-pound girl — Erica Chapman. He’ll do a double take and look back at his coach. Caught off guard and unprepared, the boy will have no excuse. Erica is one of the more than 5,000 girls nationwide who are on school wrestling teams. Since Title IX passed in 1972, a law demanding gender equality in any federally funded school activities, girls have slowly appeared on the roster of scholastic wrestling teams. While Erica is the only girl who competes on the Bloomington High School South Elementary Dual Team, she said she sees herself as just another competitor, just another kid who wants to wrestle. Erica said she doesn’t label herself as a tomboy, but she’s not “girly” either. Some days, she wakes up early to fix her ponytail just right. Other days, she’s climbing trees, four-wheeling or wrestling on a mat with a boy crushed between her legs.Erica does most things with her family: her 15-year-old brother Matthew Edwards, her 22-year-old sister and IU student Tiffany Coleman, Tiffany’s husband Chris Coleman and their 1-year-old daughter Alora Coleman. Tiffany and Chris gained custody of Erica and Matthew two years ago, after Child Services in Delaware County, Ind., found their mother incapable of raising themAfter school, Boys and Girls Club and wrestling practice, Erica goes home and eats dinner with her family. Erica said she hopes it’s an enchilada bake or Tiffany’s “upside down pizza.” They make a point to always eat together.At about 9 p.m., she crawls into her bed and buries herself beneath a Strawberry Shortcake bedspread. She said she likes to get enough rest before another day of school, recess and wrestling. She’s supposed to read for a half hour each night, but she would rather sleep or listen to Justin’s Bieber’s “Baby.” Erica’s life isn’t similar to the scenes on the Hannah Montana posters that hang in her room. A taste of her life would not be described as sweet like strawberry shortcake. For as long as she can remember, Erica has been wrestling with what life has thrown her way. * * *At tournaments, Erica is used to her coach shouting at her to remember her “stance” — to keep her head up and distribute her weight evenly between her feet.A sloppy stance makes it easier for her opponent to take her down. Being sloppy won’t help Erica with her wrestling. To do her best, she must eliminate the distractions that rush around her.But Erica has distractions. Two years ago, when she opened the door to her house in Delaware County, she was met by an infestation of swarming fleas. The dishwasher had mildew growing inside; fungus covered the bathroom and there were animal feces on the floor. The only remnants of food were crumbs lingering in the cabinets.Erica tries not to think about that home anymore.She lived there with her mother, Mary Jordan, until Jordan was put in jail on Aug. 22, 2009. She was charged with possession of illegal drugs and neglect.Erica and her brother Matthew were immediately placed in foster care. They were only at their first foster home for two days. Their foster parents had forgotten to give them their behavioral medication.On the second try, they were placed with 80-year-old foster parents who would forget to feed them breakfast. Matthew started stealing food because he wanted to make sure he could take care of Erica if their foster parents couldn’t. Erica didn’t grow up with much support or high self-esteem. She has learned to be resilient when it comes to taking care of herself.* * *When the referee blows the whistle at the start of a match, Erica already knows what move she’ll go for: the double leg takedown. It’s her most aggressive move. She will wrap her arms around one of his legs and spring upward like a slingshot. When he tries to gain balance on his free leg, Erica will thrust her weight into his side. When they topple to the ground, Erica feels a rush and knows she’s coming out on top. “That’s right, Erica. Take him down. Turn him on his back,” Chris yells. From the sideline, he is usually shouting advice. Even though he’s not her father, he cheers her on like the rest of the dads of the team. He’s always at Erica’s mat during a competition.Next to him is usually Tiffany, who supports Erica in any activity she’s involved in. They share a special bond as sisters. Tiffany is also a victim of their mother’s neglect. She was kicked out of the house when she was 14. “I had always told myself I was going to go back and get Erica and Matthew. When I got the voicemail that they were in foster care, I knew it was time,” she said. On Sept. 22, 2009, Tiffany and Chris went to the courtroom in Delaware County for Erica and Matthew’s placement hearing. Despite the fact that Tiffany was 20 and Chris only 18, after proving that they had a big enough house and steady sources of income, they were given custody of Erica and Matthew.Erica didn’t see her mom before they left for Bloomington. All she wanted to do in the car was close her eyes and fall asleep.Erica was on her way to a safe, clean house in Bloomington. That was all she cared about.* * *When most people think of women’s wrestling, it’s usually messy — women wrestling in plastic pools full of mud. But women have been wrestling for sport since ancient times.Archeologists have found Etruscan bronze statues from 330 B.C.E. depicting scenes of women wrestling with men. Erica’s wrestling is just keeping up with tradition. For her, wrestling is a bit of a family affair.Erica remembers Chris talking about wrestling, a sport he practiced for nine years.Curious, Erica said she wanted to give it a try.Tiffany and Chris agreed wrestling would be a good way to build Erica’s confidence but warned her she would probably be the only girl on the team.From October to May, Erica goes to practice twice a week and competes in tournaments on weekends.When Erica started, her former coach, George Schermer, said he didn’t treat her any differently from the boys. “When Erica first joined the team, for me it was just like any other wrestler,” George said. “For the new boys, I think some may have been a little surprised.”George’s wife, Betty Schermer, is president of the Bloomington High School South Wrestling Club and has watched Erica develop as a wrestler during the past year. She said Erica’s tenacious personality and ability to strategize on the mat moves her one step ahead of her competition.If Erica thinks the boys are going easy on her, she won’t take it. Sometimes, she’ll push the guy’s face down and call him a wuss. “When I’m in practice, I can pull them down and, I don’t know ... smack ’em,” she said.* * *A slick, bronze medal hangs on a loose nail above Erica’s bed. She won the third-place medal at a tournament last year. She said she holds it from time to time to fuel her desire to keep winning.She won the medal after she nearly broke three fingers, which, as she will proudly show, are still fully functioning.Her competitor was a boy who was roughly the same height, weight and skill level.From the start, Erica controlled the match with a series of double leg takedowns, but this boy wasn’t about to “go easy” on her because she was a girl.The crowd of eight shouting Erica’s name soon grew to 20. The only girl at the meet was beating a guy. This they had to see.But her muscles began to tense up. Her head felt heavy. In a decisive moment, he went for the take down and pinned her to the floor. She tried to hold on, but when his weight sank onto her arm, squeezing her hand down until it hit the back of her fingers, she couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. That day, she didn’t win the match. But it was a moment when she tried her best, when she kept pushing against her competitor for as long as she could. A moment when she realized that some challenges are bigger than her, and that it’s okay to let go, as long as you get back up and keep trying. So that’s what Erica does. She gets up and keeps on going. Whether she stumbles with her grades, moments when she has to talk to her mother on the phone — even though she doesn’t want to — or when she feels like she isn’t that “awesome girl” Tiffany always tells her she is.Her deficit in her self-esteem has taken a toll. She has seen destructive relationships and heard name-calling from birth to 9 years old.But she’s working on it. The other night at dinner, Erica sat at the table and wrote a letter to herself, telling herself why she is awesome. She came up with that on her own. In her letter, she wrote that she’s an awesome wrestler, is part of an awesome family and has an awesome life. She keeps her letter in her backpack and pulls it out once in a while, reminding her that when she’s wrestling, she only has room to gain, not lose.
(11/07/11 4:46am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>While Occupy protestors are equating the stock market with greed, a group of IU students is using investing for philanthropy purposes.The Virtu Project, an organization founded in 2006 by students in the Liberal Arts and Management Program, creates and manages philanthropic investments to raise funds for the non-profit Timmy Global Health. Through donors who pledge money as mock investments in the stock market, Virtu accrues donations to help medically under-served children in Third World countries. “Most people see capitalism as full of greedy businessmen, but we want to show how you can use investing to support philanthropy,” said senior Andrew Morrow, president of Virtu.In the last three years, Virtu raised more than $35,000. These donations were fueled by the pledge each donor makes to match the returns in his or her investment made in Virtu’s mock portfolio. For example, if a donor were to pledge $10,000 and the fund yielded 10 percent, the donor would give $1,000 to the foundation.Andrea Wolf, IU senior and investment director for Virtu, said she is impressed by Virtu’s ability to fund social entrepreneurship through business. “We will never have another time when we can take these types of risks with investing, learning about portfolios and being able to have the impact that we do,” she said.Members of Virtu, ranging from sophomores to seniors, are LAMP students who have applied for the organization to receive hands-on experience in networking, investing and creative-problem solving. Members start as associates who learn about Virtu’s operations. They become managers who do research and conduct presentations about Virtu’s investments. The final step is a Virtu partner, who teaches the Virtu curriculum to the associates.Every Tuesday evening, Virtu members gather at the School of Informatics and Computing to discuss the stock market as they plan their investment strategy to raise funds for Timmy Global Health, formerly the Timmy Foundation, which works to expand access to health care. At Virtu meetings, there are no briefcases or three-piece suits. But despite their college-student looks, the students’ conversations contain stock market jargon.The junior managers give presentations about their stock portfolios in their assigned market sector. These reports help teach members about the companies they have invested in. The reports focus on the performance, history and any major news that is effecting members’ investments.Currently, the project has shares in 24 holdings ranging from Apple to Tempur-pedic International.Discussions are also guided by weekly readings from “The Intelligent Investor” by Benjamin Graham, the same book that inspired business magnate Warren Buffett. It highlights the practice of investing with a sense of rationality and stability rather than with emotions.From the book, Virtu members have learned that, as average investors, they will always win and lose. The losses, while unavoidable, shouldn’t deter them. If they speculate, they are bound to lose. In their discussion, the group came to the consensus that because the market is always going up and down, being disciplined is what matters. Their discipline about their responsibilities for Virtu is anchored by their close ties to Timmy Global Health, Morrow said. Senior Brynne Underwood, the organization’s secretary, had the opportunity to travel to Guatemala with Timmy Global Health last year during spring break. There, she saw the impact Virtu’s returns made in helping the lives of people in need. Underwood said she remembers talking with a mother and her two children, who were waiting for parasite medication treatment. When the mother questioned if they were all going to be able to get the medicine, Underwood was able to tell them.Underwood said she remembers the mother looked like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Some Virtu members have also taken a trip to Indianapolis to see Timmy Global Health headquarters. They had the chance to see the supplies that were purchased with the help of the money they raised.While the majority of Virtu members said they don’t plan to work on Wall Street, their investment curiosity allows them to make philanthropic contributions on a larger level.Underwood said her involvement in Virtu is her opportunity to “learn while doing good.”
(11/02/11 2:25am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>A thin layer of white fog drifted across the black platform stage and rolled under a velour curtain. The warm vapor curled around his feet. He knew it was time.Emerging from the darkness, six feet of muscle and soft skin were covered in a mass of bright fuchsia ruffles. He could have been in a show on the Vegas strip. No doubt his outfit was inspired by Lady GaGa’s latest picture in Vogue.His glossy blonde hair was straightened, then curled, then hair-sprayed so that it appeared like a halo around the sides of his foundation-covered cheeks. Maybe he was born with this beautiful complexion. Maybe it was Maybelline. For him, it probably was Maybelline.The DJ gave him a slight nod, and his plump lips, coated in a layer of coffee-colored lipstick, began to mouth the lyrics of a remix of the Beatles’ “Can’t Buy Me Love.”* * *Most days, you’ll find James Aldrich sipping coffee instead of classifying it as a shade of makeup. Typically, Aldrich is lathering hair and trimming bangs at The Best Little Hair House in Indianapolis, the salon he has owned for the past 16 years. When he wipes the last bits of freshly clipped hair off customers’ shoulders, he said he always watches them stare at their new reflection in the mirror. He’s just given them a little present: a new attitude and way to see their beauty, which is amplified through a simple change.* * *During weekend nights, Aldrich is the one who changes, like a chameleon turning from forest green to candy-apple red. Aldrich, known as Miss Montana Melons, is a drag queen performer at Uncle Elizabeth’s Nightclub on West Third Street in Bloomington. Originally from Waverly, Ind., Aldrich moved to Indianapolis when he was 18 and has been performing at drag shows since age 21. He currently performs with the West End Girls, who take the stage every Friday at 10 p.m. at Uncle Elizabeth’s. Donning his tight-fitting velvet dress and the glimmering jewelry that covers him from his Adam’s apple to his cleavage, he recreates the magic of 1930s Hollywood and the dazzling showgirls of Las Vegas. Like David Copperfield’s white-hot magic, he provides the biggest illusion. As a young gay man in the ’80s, he said he saw drag queens who stunned audiences with their ability to sing and entertain. He said the queens he knew were good people, always involved in the community. * * *His wide eyes scanned the room as his smile gleamed at the chairs full of middle-aged men cradling bottles of cold Budweiser. Most were wearing jeans and cotton T-shirts. He was dressed to impress.As the tempo kicked up a notch, he turned his back to the audience and dropped his fuchsia coat, revealing a navy blue velvet dress covered with hundreds of pink rhinestones. The dress hugged his curvaceous hips and DD breasts. He looked like a human disco ball.His hands glided over his bosom, stroking his flat stomach and sliding down his hidden thighs. While none of his skin was showing, his outfit left little to the imagination.The clapping and hollering sounded like thunder, producing the perfect tempest. He became the storm chaser, pushed by his own adrenaline and chasing the intoxication he received from the crowd. Some nights, when it’s slow, he said he falls into a void of boredom. On Sept. 9, that was not the case. He let himself become absorbed into his character, saying goodbye to his five o’clock masculinity and hello to his midnight femininity. That night, he said he planned to win someone’s attention. Looking to his left, he spied his first fan of the evening waiting for him at the edge of the stage. Maybe he would be the one.A man in his 20s wearing a camouflage trucker hat and a sweatshirt with a cream and crimson IU logo smoothed the crease of his folded dollar bill. Placing the faded green single between his loosely clinched teeth, he tilted his head back and waited.Floating to the left side of the stage, Aldrich gently placed his long fingers on the man’s slightly stubbly cheek and lowered his neck in a sweeping motion. Face to face, he bit the edge of the dollar and slid it out of the man’s mouth. Blindly placing the bill into his hand, he kept his gaze steady. Three seconds of hypnotic, bass-blaring beats passed before he kissed his admirer. People clapped and shook their heads; booming laughter mixed with deep guttural shouts of “Heeyy!” and “Right on!” from the men seated at the bar. Maybe they got a rush. Maybe they were jealous.Everyone was entranced by the thrill of his costumed body, but he needed to concentrate. Some drag queens let liquor fill their mouths and form a haze of triviality around their shimmering eyelids. Only one cocktail for Aldrich tonight. It’s his job, and he takes it seriously.Arms outstretched, he swayed his hips rhythmically to the music and stood in the center of the stage, flamingo pink heels tapping the carpet beneath him.As he repeated the chorus “Can’t buy me love, can’t buy me love,” he thought about how he was ending his performance with a fitting image that challenged the song’s message: He let money buy him love — or, at least, that’s what he led them to believe.He closed his eyes as he mouthed the last words, his white eye shadow covering the fragile layer of skin between his eyelashes and eyebrows. Taking a deep breath, he let the sweet euphoria of his performance sink in.“Let’s give a big hand to Miss Montana Melons!” the emcee squealed.* * *At 42, Aldrich said he isn’t tired of dressing up and performing for audiences in Bloomington as he has done for the past 21 years.“I love the impersonations and the illusion,” he said. “Because underneath it all, I’m just a big, old, bald-headed man.”
(09/06/11 1:49am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>A man with silver hair and black tattoos stood before a small crowd as he beatboxed, making a greasy-haired biker turn back on his route, sit down on the warm asphalt and listen.The man in front of the microphone had a story to tell, and through the power of his voice he took his audience on a journey to a village in Sierra Leone. As part of the 35th annual Forth Street Festival, the Bloomington Storytellers Guild touted tales to curious college students, agile children and tie-dye clad adults on Saturday. They wove messages from urban legends and mythical tales into theatrical narratives.Formed in 1974, the Guild was founded to keep the ancient, oral tradition a thriving art within the Bloomington community.The Guild is composed of members who have a passion for stories. Every month, the storytellers meet to study and craft their tales into pieces that can amuse, entertain and enrich listeners.While storytelling can take form around the flickering flames of a campfire or on the lumpy feather pillows of giggling girls at a sleepover, the practice of storytelling is incorporated into teaching methods in a variety of ways.Guild Coordinator Ginny Richey began storytelling for her job. Working with troubled teens in inner-city Louisville, she needed a way to make a quick and positive connection between hostile groups of school children. Storytelling, she said, was the way to do it best.“Storytelling is a shared experience between the teller and the listener,” Richey said. “In the teller’s mind, they have a vision that is more than just the words that come out. Then the listener creates a world in their own mind that moves past just the words they hear.” Storyteller Stephanie Coleman, 47, is the children’s librarian at the Monroe County Public Library. She tells personal stories that range from her childhood experiences growing up on a farm to tales about Hoosiers involved in World War II.This weekend, she told a story with a “not so very happy ending.” As she pretended to practice voodoo magic, waving her hands around to concoct a death-producing elixir, her lyrical voice sang the disturbing tale of a husband and wife who wanted a divorce after taking a trip to Haiti. Women laughed and listened with their eyes wide open as Coleman engaged the crowd with her articulation and emotion. While her audience this weekend was mostly middle-aged women, Coleman initially wanted to learn storytelling as a motivational tool that would help her encourage children’s desire to read. “It’s important because there is a need for face-to-face connection, where one person is telling a story to others,” Coleman said. “It’s not important just because of the rise of technology, but more because it’s a unique way to convey the importance of articulation, setting and format.”One memory Coleman recalled was of going to an elementary school to tell stories to a group of students. They would come up and tell her, “I remember you! You told me that story,” and she says friendships were formed.Storyteller Patty Callison, a 62-year-old librarian originally from Kansas, piped up Sunday with a tale told in an Irish accent. At times, she closed her eyes and shook her head in such rage that her face turned a rosy red. Between sudden outbursts of laughter from the crowd, passersby would set down their plates of Indian curry to listen to Callison’s whimsical and comical tale.Later, she pulled a “Ready-to-Tell Tales” book out of her reusable red and green bag and explained how she uses stories like those out of the book to get inspiration.“The bones are there and you keep in the things you’re good at and throw out the things you can’t pronounce,” Callison said.She said her favorite part of storytelling is getting a reaction from the audience. “Storytelling is about enchantment,” Callison said. “When enchantment happens, it makes the audience forget that they’re sitting in a chair in the middle of Fourth and Dunn. A story can allow the mind to go somewhere else. Wherever I go, everyone else gets to come with me.”
(04/20/11 2:38am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Today, my mantra comes from the words of John Denver because he said it best: “Country roads, take me home, to the place I belong.”While taking advice from this ’70s classic might seem a bit unconventional, there is truth in its lyrics.Nestled within the Tuscan hillsides, a thought hit me that instantly reminded me of my home nearly 5,000 miles across the Atlantic.But how could I be nostalgic for the Midwest while I’m among some of the world’s most amazing art, architecture and culinary masterminds?When I think of Bloomington, a town smack in the middle of our nation’s heartland, I’m reminded of the endless countryside, rustic houses and warm summer evenings when friends gather around a campfire at night, telling jokes and reminiscing about the past.While people may not see Italy as a likely comparison to the Midwest, there are more similarities than meet the eye.Last weekend, as I biked down the gentle sloping hills of Chianti, an old woman gathering vegetables from her garden reminded me of the benevolent landscape — how Italy generously bestows a fruitful harvest to her people who have maintained a respect for her natural beauty.From my seat on the bullet train to Naples, I saw the Tuscan farm country, full of life and color, men greeting the morning sunshine, tending their flocks of sheep in the bucolic surroundings. These men have diligently worked the land — a thin layer of rich soil permanently imbedded within their tan-leathered skin, pressed between every laugh line and wrinkle.While most tourists seek the more well-known Italian cities like Rome, Florence, Milan and Naples when traveling to Italy, at the heart of this old country is the countryside — the home of families who have produced wine since the mid-1300s, the miles of silver glistening olive trees whose fruit have nourished Italians for centuries, the crumbling villas whose white stucco walls resound with the stories of a girl’s first heartbreak, the cries of a newborn child and the screeching bombs that rattled the town in World War II.In the Tuscan countryside, a way of life presents itself that isn’t clouded by the material — the lines of two euro shot glasses and miniature copies of the statue of David.Like the United States, Italy has become commercialized to the point where a traveler may forget the places and people who built and continue to fuel the country.The pastoral, encapsulated by visions of lush fields, blistered hands and families joining around a wooden table for supper, has become more of a dream than a reality.Yet, go back to the start of any country or community and you will find the building blocks within the people who diligently worked the land.It is this heartland that has given us the ability to flourish — this heartland that continues to remind us of our roots, extending back to generations of men and women we never met but who gave us the security and possibility to live an abundant and prosperous life. Living in Tuscany has taught me to appreciate the art of living simply, to acknowledge and explore the ethereal beauty that exists within the fields, hills and valleys.While the cities provide us with commerce and industry, it’s the heartland that reminds us of our beginnings.If you have the chance to wander through the Tuscan countryside or the rural Midwest, let the roads lead you home, to a place where you have and will always belong.
(04/06/11 4:07am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>His hair was gelled, he wore gold-rimmed aviators and on the back of his pants, in lime green print, “Frankie says relax.”With just one glance, Italian men, famous for their time spent primping and accessorizing, are legendary for knocking the socks off of most American women. But it’s more than just their well-groomed appearance that makes this group stand out: They greet each other with a kiss on each cheek, they sit next to each other on the bus with their knees touching, they even shed tears when emotional.From my observations, Italian men have popped the bubble of personal space, inviting people to see their multiple sides, from sheer excitement to vulnerability.After growing up in the United States, where men are taught to be tough, falling somewhere between the image of the Brawny Paper Towel man and G.I. Joe, it’s almost refreshing to see men who giggle and wear capris.The lines between gender norms seem fuzzy in Italy, softened by Prada cashmere sweaters and frothy cappuccino foam.Looking in the window of a Florentine trattoria, it’s entirely normal to find two men sipping red wine and sharing a plate of bruschetta, savoring the relaxing lunchtime hour catching up on events in each other’s lives.Italian men aren’t paralyzed by the thought of being mistaken for homosexual.When they have affection for someone, male or female, they show it.This sentiment is very fitting with another observation I have made about Italian men: They know what they want. They exude confidence, which seems to be most evident as they walk down the street with their chests stuck out, eyeing women up and down and making “cat calls” whenever they feel like it.As an American woman, this observation might be different from the average perspective, but nonetheless, Italian men, as compared to American men, are more aggressive and actively voice their opinion.It has become a running joke among classmates in my study abroad program to see who has heard the most interesting pick up line — “Excuse me miss, would you like a café, dolce, me?” while serving a Margherita pizza in the shape of a heart. They don’t necessarily expect to receive attention from these women, but nonetheless, they exercise their ability to say what they what, wherever they want.But with this “gift of gab” comes a more likable present: a caring side that reveals a sensitive gentleman. As I walk to school each morning, I pass countless fathers who walk hand-in-hand with their young daughters, donning a small pink backpack along with their leather briefcase, stopping now and then to tie a shoelace or look at the newest Hello Kitty toy in the window display.Italian men wear their emotions on their sleeves. Imagine an Italian soccer game. During the final seconds when the game has gone into double overtime, a player makes a final attempt to score a goal and fires the winning shot right past the goalieThe streets of the town begin to fill with men, rejoicing as they jump up and down, dance and hug each other as if celebrating the birth of their newborn children. Their happiness can be seen and heard from miles around, and they don’t shy away from expressing this joy at this decibel.Yet these are only a few observations on the mysterious breed that is Italian men. My attempt to generalize this group will forever fall short of their inexplicable style and character. And while I wish I could sum up their brilliance in one article, their unique qualities need to be seen for oneself, for they far outnumber the endless varieties of pasta or gelato that exist in this beautiful country.
(03/23/11 3:41am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Squished like an airtight can of crammed sardines, hundreds of people gathered on the uneven stones of Piazza Signoria to celebrate the 150th anniversary of Italy’s unification. Green, white and red lighting draped the walls of the Palazzo Vecchio as triumphant strains of “Fratelli d’Italia”, Italy’s national anthem, sailed through the starlit sky.“Let one flag, one hope, gather us all.”As I stood on my tiptoes, my face shoved against the coat of the man in front of me, I scanned the hordes of Italians who celebrated the unity of a nation that was for centuries a land composed of individual, warring city-states.As an American witnessing this unique event, I wished I was Italian.Throughout my time in Italy, I have had countless introductions from those who pride themselves as Florentines, Venetians or Romans, in addition to being Italian.Yet regardless of which city they are from, Italians continue to be connected to their roots through cultural traditions, which have been practiced for centuries.A child learning the recipe of his great grandmother’s Bolognese sauce, a Sienese man beating his chest in triumph as the horse of his family’s contrade wins the Palio, watching an opera by Puccini in his hometown of Lucca — these are all images that serve as emblems of a national spirit that seems intrinsic to all Italians. As a foreign traveler, experiencing the magic of these events is something that leaves you craving more than just a bowl of succulent spaghetti — it brings a desire to absorb what it truly means to be an Italian.Across the Atlantic, the culture of the United States is not as easily defined. We are a country made up of a variety of people — people who have immigrated from every city, town and village, spanning the farthest reaches of the globe.In the United States, most college students are third, fourth or fifth generation Americans. While they might know what countries make up their nationality, they do not usually possess strong cultural ties to their families’ homelands.An American teenager might know more about the marital relationships of today’s movie stars than the hardships their ancestors faced during the massive famine in Ireland.To be blunt, Americans generally know little about the people and places they come from. They seem to be detached from their past and choose only to look toward the future — whatever is chic, popular and technologically advanced.When visiting a country like Italy, maybe it is a sense of nostalgia that Americans crave, a longing to see a group of people who find little separation from their family’s past and who they are today. It was this feeling that swept over me when I happened upon a performance by a group of 20 men singing with a low bravado the strains of Italy’s history — her rich past, her resilience, her generous gifts to her people. Their voices resonated within the covered corner of the palazzo, reminding passersby of the importance of paying homage to their homeland. For Italians, the 150th anniversary of Italy’s unification allowed for a weekend of festivity and maybe another excuse to pop open a bottle of Prosecco, but this sense of cultural pride is not a rare occasion — it can be witnessed any day of the week at any time of the year, in a café, at a clothing store or around the dining room table.As I watched the fireworks streak across the sky above Piazza Signoria, it made me curious about my own heritage. While I may not be Italian, I hope I can glean from these people the importance of national pride and how you should never lose sight of your heritage, the history of the people and places you come from.
(03/02/11 4:29am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>When eating a meal in Italy, you are never just consuming quality ingredients served in stunning presentation — you are absorbing the rich flavors of Italian tradition and history.At an unsuspecting restaurant in an alleyway in Florence, I discovered the beauty of Italian culture enveloped between two layers of flaky focaccia, thick slices of mozzarella and a generous spread of pesto.Aside from Salumeria Verdi’s display-case boasting countless Italian dishes (pasta with marinara, ribollita — a white bean and cabbage soup — and fresh vegetables sautéed in glassy green olive oil), the true magic resides in chef and owner Pino, who has run the establishment for the past 20 years.Food was an integral part of Pino’s life growing up in Naples, a city in southern Italy known for its coastline, crime rates and cuisine.With a soft smile on his face, Pino recalled childhood memories of his mother in the kitchen, spending endless hours cooking meals for the family.Every day, without exception, she set the table for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Young Pino was constantly at her side, tasting each dish to learn the difference between oregano and basil, the texture of a ripe tomato and the proper consistency of ragu.Meals served at the family table were a testament of her love for her family and a vehicle for the stories of her Italian heritage.Her recipes were never scrawled on note cards. Italian culinary art is an oral tradition passed down through laughter, whispers and playful banter, an education that Pino gleaned from his mother’s example rather than in the confines of a culinary school.After growing up with such values of unity cultivated around the family table, owning a restaurant and enoteca was a way for Pino to put this message into practice within his community.Since opening Salumeria Verdi, Pino has enjoyed his long days of serving locals, tourists and hoards of university students with insatiable appetites.After eating my first caprese panino, I was captivated by my meal, and witnessing Pino’s enthusiasm made the greatest impression. In search of guidance on what constitutes the “glue” of a strong Italian family, Pino has taught me that lessons shared through food are ones that inspire personal growth, deepen relationships and impart a sense of comfort and security. “Eating together is something that unites the family, an event that brings them closer together,” Pino said.However, as longer work hours have become more common in the Italian lifestyle, eating meals together can be difficult.Yet, even after a 12-hour workday, Pino still has time to sit down for dinner with his wife and child. No matter how long the day may drone on, nourishing one’s body and enjoying time with friends and family are moments that Pino says are worth living for. This act of communion through food, shared around the family table, should take greater priority in our daily life. Not a day has passed since my arrival to Florence that I haven’t shared a meal with my host mother, roommate or friend. These are the moments I will remember most about my life in Italy, ones that I will be able to recall simply by enjoying a meal with those around me.Thanks, Pino. With your wisdom in mind, in my house, someone will always be coming for dinner.
(02/16/11 3:24am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Drops of blood slowly fell into a single white tissue as she cupped her head into her hands, listening to the buzz of jittery middle school students. She was there to deliver a message, to tell her story — a story of how she lost her brown locks of hair, how she moved from Rome to Florence during her teen years and how she wakes up each morning with a sense of hope and rejuvenation.On Saturday, I had the opportunity to hear Serena Catalano, a 22-year-old cancer patient, share a message about passion. Although she leaned against the table, fighting the fatigue of chemotherapy, she spoke with a strong and steady voice as she stressed the important choice we make when we wake up each morning: to give power to fear and anxiety or to see life as a beautiful spectrum of infinite possibilities. Each morning, when treatments cause her body to ache, Catalano chooses to see joy.The choice to live each day to the fullest potential is something I have found very prevalent in the streets, schools and living rooms of Florence. Since I have been studying in Italy, the things that have made the greatest impression on me haven’t been the grand sight of the Duomo, the ubiquitous gelato shops or the towering statue of David. What I am most amazed by is the generous amount of time Italians take to spend with each other. They do not seem to hesitate about savoring another half hour with a friend over a cappuccino or going to their neighbor’s apartment to see if they need any extra soup for their supper.In attempt to live la vita Italiana, I have embraced the value of living life for relationships and seeking inspiration within the community,instead of spending hours worrying about tests, bills from lawyers or prepping for the next 10 steps of my career plans. I don’t see it as a choice between being careless or regimented, but rather as the opportunity to gain insight about the world and who you are through friends, neighbors and nature.Sometimes you need to turn your gaze away from the pangs of reality and look toward your dreams and the things that make you happy.Alongside Serena was a young painter, Tomasso, who spoke about the presence of color and emotion that exist in all things. He said we have the choice to see nero — black — the absence of color, or bianco — white — the culmination of all colors. It is a choice to become overwhelmed with grief or acknowledge that beauty that surrounds you, a beauty that is unconfined. “La bella vita,” a frequently used expression, represents a part of the Italian lifestyle that emphasizes the importance of living with spontaneity and freedom, rather than succumbing to doubt, obsession or greed.Life is beautiful when you choose to see it that way.Whether your car breaks down, you fail a test or you are turned down from the internship you have wanted for months — life still goes on. All of these things may put a blemish on your vision of perfection, or even normalcy, but they cannot move your spirit, drive you to thinking negatively or cause you physical harm. You hold the power to your happiness. Light your fire and keep it burning.
(02/02/11 1:44am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>A few nights ago, I gave in because as everyone knows, Italians do it best.As of last week, I am no longer a vegetarian.Before coming to Italy, I was perplexed by the horrible methods American industries use to produce food in faster, greater and more marketable quantities to amaterialistic public.In addition to these malpractices, America has also done wonders with pushing the concept of dieting. We have become obsessed with counting calories, buying non-fat, sugar-free products and watching waistlines like a broker watches the stock market.In effect, America is steering citizens away from eating real food and is drowning them with chemically produced, “food-like” creations, which either clog arteries or magicallyevaporate fat.With all of these worries related to food, I became a vegetarian, sticking as closely as possible to locally grown, organic foods in order to avoid added growth hormones and other strange chemicals.Food became something to worry about rather than something to enjoy.I came to Italy with hopes that this mind-set could change, knowing that I was entering an utopia of culinary excellence.Nights spent dreaming about chunks of mozzarella and silky tiramisu gave me enough reason to justify studying abroad and discovering what authentic cuisine is all about.However, I came to Italy with some extra baggage. I wondered if I would be able to enjoy all of these wonderful foods without going to the gym every day. Would eating a steaming bowl of risotto fill me with guilt rather than pleasure? What would I do if they offered me meat?So when the night came that my host-mom set a beautifully roasted chicken on the table, I knew I had to make a choice. The answer, however, was clear — eat the meat.In Italy, the idea of genetically modified foods does not exist. Produce is grown with care and Italians pride themselves on fresh and quality ingredients.When I explained to my host-mom why I practice vegetarianism in the United States, she told me my hesitations would be unnecessary here. The fruits and vegetables are bought from the man down the street. The meat is from the butcher who has raised livestock for years. The pasticceria a few blocks away supplies our daily dose of panettone, a light and fluffy bread filled with dried fruit.Suddenly, I was immersed in the magic of eating food that brought joy to my life instead of butterflies to my stomach.The Italians eat amazing meals, yet their focus on quality ingredients erases the need to over-indulge or feel any guilt.Lunch and dinner are spent savoring each bite, mindful of the robust flavor that fills a piece of tomato-covered bruscetta or a spoonful of creamy hazelnut gelato.Instead of being haunted by the thought of using whole versus skim milk, I now delight in the savory cream that slightly coats my plate of tagliatelle. As my focaccia soaks up a small pile of glassy green olive oil, I smile knowing how healthy and authentic the cuisine is that I am eating.Foods in Italy don’t merely provide nourishment for the body; they provide sustenance for the soul. A meal is not a matter of convenience; it is a means of showing a love for one’s health, a connection between friends and a pride of one’s homeland.My new Italian mantra: Forget calories. They are a man-made concept to induce worry and to see food as a number rather than the value it brings to your health and wellbeing.Eat real foods and enjoy them with your friends and family. Life is too short to spend it cramming in five hours a day at the gym or eating a microwave dinner at a “table for one.”Find the balance and raise your glass. Buon appetito!
(01/19/11 4:17am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>I’ve contemplated this idea before, but now it’s official — I was born on the wrong continent. Although I marvel at the snow-topped peaks of the Rockies and the skyscrapers that illuminate the Manhattan horizon, I can’t help but feel a perpetual smile dance across my face when I breathe in the aroma of freshly baked focaccia bread and rich Italian espresso. It’s not that I don’t love my home in the United States. It’s just that I desire a lifestyle with European values, or what I refer to as the Italian trinity: family, friends and food. Just five days ago, I arrived in Florence, Italy, home of the Statue of David, the towering Duomo Cathedral and a community of Italians who seem to live for friendships, existential moments and making guests feel like part of the family.After spending the last two years struggling with the question of, “What is a family?” I hope that my semester abroad will allow me to experience this beautiful image of the “famiglia Italiana” — a mix between “The Sopranos” and the little grandmother from “Strega Nona.”After meeting my host family, I am learning what the image of a close-knit family resembles. They embody the phrase, “La bella figura,” meaning the beauty that thrives in all things Italian.Loredana, my host mother, has three children and five grandchildren, most of whom joined us for dinner on my first night in Florence. Sitting around the long wooden table, we leisurely sipped glasses of red wine and twirled spoonfuls of pasta coated in a juicy marinara sauce.From my first observations about the Italian family, I can tell that the stereotypes are true; you would be hard-pressed to find another unit that is bound by pride for their homeland, heritage and traditions. Loredana is passionate about her family, which is overtly apparent at dinner time. She knows the kitchen is her domain. When she cooks, she uses the harvest of her fellow Italians. She is in command at the supermarket, leading us through the aisles, armed with, not one, but three grocery carts full of vegetables, fruits and fresh pasta. When she greets her family, each kiss is full of care and sincere joy of their encounter. The typical American teenager might reel at the thought of spending four hours with their family for a Sunday lunch, but Loredana’s grandchildren seem secure of their family connections and don’t feel the need to rush even a typical activity.And this hospitality isn’t a rarity only I stumbled upon. Each of my classmates on the program has told me of their similar experiences: meals where their host mothers insist that they take another serving of pasta, mornings filled with cappuccinos and conversation, evenings where family has gathered to celebrate their arrival.Even though I’m not Italian by blood, I feel new roots beginning to grow as I learn the strength that resides in a family and of the joy that family experiences bring.As I think about the rest of my time in Italy, I know I will absorb the value of togetherness that will lay a foundation for the rest of my life. It’s a skill that can’t be learned in the classroom, it needs to be experienced and acknowledged. Your family is a major component of your environment, and it deserves attention. This idea seems to become more lost in American culture as twenty-somethings venture toward college and away from their hometowns.Italians have embraced the concept of family for thousands of years, and tomorrow, I’m taking my lesson with an extra shot of espresso and a healthy serving of Parmesan.
(12/09/10 4:43am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Five times a day, heads of millions of Muslims bow toward Ka’aba, a giant black structure built by Abraham, the father of the Israelites. IU students involved with the Muslim Student Union join the masses in this practice.In mid-November, an undulating wave of people encircled the sacred Muslim site, marking the Hajj, the annual holy pilgrimage to Mecca, Saudi Arabia.While most IU Muslim students did not make the trip in November, they reflect on their spiritual growth throughout college and honor religious traditions. The MSU provides a community to serve as a catalyst for that growth.Senior Sohaib Sajjad, a member of the MSU community, said practices like the Hajj are what Islam stands on. Similar to the Hajj, Sajjad said he feels his faith is a journey that requires time yet is rewarding.Sajjad remembers growing up in Pakistan with his grandfather reading to him from the Qur’an. “When I was taught how to pray, I didn’t even understand what I was saying,” Sajjad said. “I felt like a robot.”After moving to the United States in 1999, Sajjad said attending college helped him free his mind and discover why Islam is important.“I went and explored why I pray and what it means to me,” Sajjad said. “When there are no parents and no siblings to watch over you, it tests how strong your faith is.”While he sees IU as a liberal campus, Sajjad said it helps to be surrounded by fellow Muslims who share the same values and level of faith.Senior Taufik Chhotani, vice president of the MSU, described the 70-member group as a close-knit family. The students reflect on the importance of the Hajj but also focus on other traditions that don’t require them to deviate from their studies.This year, their focus is to change the perception of Muslims on campus during times of adversity.“Many are not familiar with Islam,” Chhotani said. “We want to open that door to them.”In participation with other faith-based campus groups, the MSU helps sponsor several events throughout the year.For a group that strives to bring its members together in a social and spiritual way, gathering to reflect on religious traditions and practices is a reminder of the millions of Muslims around the world who are concentrated on the Hajj.“Everyone is together, which shows so much acceptance within the community,” Sajjad said.Amidst a hectic college schedule, many Muslim students also pray five times per day, which, along with the Hajj, is one of the five pillars of Islam.At 3 p.m. on Fridays, the MSU organizes a prayer service at the Indiana Memorial Union called Jumu’ah, the weekly Muslim congregational prayer. Before Jumu’ah, Sajjad remembers that prayer is a blessing, drawing his priorities to the forefront.Both Sajjad and Chhotani said maintaining their Muslim principles can be very difficult for college students, especially with parties, temptations and studies.However, junior Omar Malik, outreach chair of the MSU, sees this as a positive challenge.“College serves as a test for many students, putting strain on our morals and our beliefs, pitting social obligations against religion obligations,” Malik said. “In the end, it’s our religious obligations that should be held above everything else.”Malik said he has grown in his faith by keeping the basic principles of Islam close to his heart: being kind, understanding and giving. He said he feels practicing these traits in college is how the Prophet Muhammad taught Muslims to live their lives.“I think most Muslim students on campus regard their religion as their best friend,” Malik said. “Sometimes you might forget about it, but at the end of a tough day, month, year, it’s always there for you. “That’s what Islam is. We might forget about it, but it’s always there for us, to take us back and help us live our life the way it should be lived.”
(11/17/10 5:09am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Legs, black and white apparel and the smiles of 13 energetic ladies reflect in a large mirror of a music practice room. After singing scales, one turns around and shouts, “We’re hot!” ... and she’s right.This Friday, the members of Ladies First, IU’s premier female a cappella group, will perform their fall concert at the Buskirk-Chumley Theater.Ladies First will sing a mix of classical and contemporary songs, from the rhythm and blues of Rihanna to the rock and soul of Journey.While many students are familiar with IU’s male a cappella group, Straight No Chaser, the all female group, which started in 1999, gives weekly performances and sings at countless events on campus and around the country.Junior and IDS staff member Rachel Cerrone has been a member for nearly three years and is the group’s manager. Since she was 6 years old, singing has been her passion. When she came to IU, her love of music and desire for a career in journalism seemed at odds with each other, yet when she heard about Ladies First, she soon became attracted to the range of contemporary songs the group performed.“We sing songs on the radio and make them better,” Cerrone said. “We add our own flare. What more could you want?”Cerrone said Ladies First is not a typical a cappella group that focuses on older tunes. Their goal is to involve the audience and to engage the crowd in their performance.This year, the ladies have sung at numerous philanthropic events. One of their favorite performances was at IU Dance Marathon, raising funds for Riley Hospital for Children.“It was at a point where we weren’t just learning more music, but we were feeling comfortable,” Cerrone said. “The crowd was great — dancing, moving their arms and cheering. We feed off of the crowd’s energy.”From their laughter, banter and constant string of compliments, it’s also evident that these ladies draw strength from each other.In a University of more than 40,000 students, finding people to connect with can be intimidating.Cerrone said she wanted a small, intimate group where she could feel a reason for being there. Ladies First has provided her with a new sense of family.“We have a reason to be here, for each other,” Cerrone said. “It’s not just to sing, but to be with your friends and have fun. Everyone in the group is my best friend.” With only one music major in the group, their diverse backgrounds create strong bonds through music.For sophomore Kelly Fritz, singing is a cathartic practice and a big stress reliever from the chaos of schoolwork and activities. Singing in Ladies First is a place where she feels balanced.“It’s such a good niche on campus,” Fritz said. “It’s a place to be if you want to expand your friendships and be with people who have similar interests.”When half of the group’s members graduated last year, they were unsure if they could fill the gaps, but the addition of seven new members has given Ladies First a fresh face.Ladies FirstWHEN 8 p.m. Friday, doors open at 7:30 p.m.WHERE Buskirk-Chumley TheaterADMISSION $7 for students and $12 for general admissionAt Friday’s performance, Fritz said the show will be a unique opportunity to hear the group’s full musical range.“Regardless of your musical taste, there will be something to resonate with everyone,” Fritz said.
(11/10/10 4:37am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Director Murray McGibbon never directs college productions. He directs plays.On Nov. 12, the Ruth N. Halls Theatre will become the venue for a band of ill-behaved British characters from the 1920s, engaging in a fast paced comedy of bad manners in Noel Coward’s play “Hay Fever.”McGibbon, who has been teaching and directing theater at IU for 15 years, came to Bloomington from South Africa with a passion for Coward.In addition to being a famous playwright, Coward was also a singer, composer and director. If you were to examine McGibbon’s CD collection or attend one of his acting classes, you would find evidence of Coward. “It’s a labor of love,” McGibbon said. “He is a playwright I adore.”McGiboon said directing “Hay Fever” has been an exciting challenge for him as he has guided a cast of college students to become a comical bunch of eccentric Brits from the 1920s.But there is nothing complicated to this play, which McGibbon described as a “gentle walk in the park, a stroll down the Champs Elysees.”McGibbon said the beauty of the play is that there is no concrete message.“If you are human and know how good it is to laugh, everyone can enjoy it,” McGibbon said.IU’s production will also feature the American debut of renowned British actress Sandra Duncan.Born in Liverpool, England, and trained at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art, Duncan has entertained countless audiences in England and South Africa, where she won 15 “best actress” awards.After working with Duncan in South Africa, McGibbon asked her if she would be interested in making the trip to the Midwest.Duncan replied with an enthusiastic “Yes.”After arriving in Bloomington on Oct. 7, Duncan’s first steps on U.S. soil have been filled with four intense weeks of rehearsals. The members of the IU Department of Theatre and Drama is thrilled to have Duncan as part of their production. McGibbon describes her as being in a class of her own.After playing the role of Judith Bliss at the Pitlochry Festival Theatre in Scotland 12 years ago, she said this production is a completely different play than her previous experience.“The students are not professionals, and it’s wonderful.” Duncan said. “It’s everything I hoped and more.”With a less rigid production, Duncan said she has more opportunities to become an extra outrageous character.“It’s a very silly play — saucy and light,” Duncan said.In her British accent, Duncan described Bliss as a “scaffy” woman who can switch into drama mode at the drop of a hat.“This has been huge fun for me,” Duncan said. “It’s been strenuous, but it has kept me active.”This weekend, McGibbon said the actors will take the audience to a stress-free, humor-filled environment, just as Coward intended his audience to experience the play years ago.“After London was bombed to bits in World War II, Coward wrote plays to cheer people up,” McGibbon said. “His plays still cheer people up. It’s pure, unadulterated fluff.”The play, which is considered a period piece, is one that Duncan feels the audience should embrace. Whether it is curiosity or desire, the style of “Hay Fever” should not be missed.“It’s all a big laugh,” Duncan said. “I hope they’ll enjoy it.”
(11/09/10 3:12am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Caroline Otter, a freshman at Bloomington High School South, never imagined being at risk for disease by drinking the water out of her kitchen faucet.After being issued a “faith challenge” at a Christ in Youth conference this summer, Otter, along with three other Bloomington high school students from Sherwood Oaks Christian Church, are raising $10,000 to build two wells in Zambia, Africa.“It has really made me be thankful for what I have,” Otter said. “I don’t ever have to worry about drinking dirty water.”Elizabeth Moore, assistant for student ministries at the church, said the conference emphasizes compassion described in the Christian gospels.“All students had the opportunity to open a ‘kingdom card,’” Moore said. “Once you opened it, you were committed to doing whatever was on your card.” Otter’s card challenged her to raise $10,000 in one year to help a nonprofit organization called Active:Water build wells in the Ndola region of Zambia. Ndola is particularly vulnerable to water contamination due to a highly concentrated population living in slum-type communities, according to research by Active:Water. “When I first opened it, I was really scared,” Otter said. “I didn’t know how I was going to do it. But then my friend said, ‘We can do this. I’m here with you; God’s with you. You can do it.’”John Ray, a sophomore at Lighthouse Christian Academy, and David Sheldon, a sophomore at Bloomington High School North, also attended the conference and watched a documentary called “Zambia’s Song.” “The video presents good information on what it’s like for people to acquire water in third-world countries and how hard that is,” Moore said.The video inspired them to help the cause Ray and Sheldon said.For their first fundraiser, the students planned an evening at the church where close to 200 attendees played games based on the television game show “Minute to Win it” and watched a shortened version of “Zambia’s Song.” That evening, the attendees contributed more than half of the students’ projected goal.“Within an hour we raised over $6,000,” Otter said. “I couldn’t get over it.”Since their first fundraiser, the students have also had a car wash for donations. So far, they have raised close to $9,000.Although the students are close to their initial goal, they have decided to keep raising money beyond the $10,000 and are planning to have a Jujistu martial arts tournament, bake sale and auction to raise additional funds.Before the next conference, the students will send the donations to Active:Water and might travel to Zambia to help build the wells.The students say their efforts are worth it if it improves the life of just one person.“If I can help give a village in Zambia a clean drinking-well and someone in that village goes and does something great, it would be awesome if that could happen,” Sheldon said.
(11/02/10 12:47am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>For the past 20 years of my life, if I were to close my eyes and picture “home,” I would automatically think of Portland, Ore., and the house I grew up in — its crimson front door, the kitchen where I spent countless dinners laughing the night away with my family and friends, the backyard where I would stay up late playing badminton by starlight. My house seemed to be a magical dwelling throughout my childhood years, and even as I got older, it felt secure to return to its warm embrace every time I pulled into the driveway. In my house, nothing could harm me; it would always be there no matter where I went and forever possess the same sense of comfort beaming through its sturdy walls and high vaulted ceilings.This past year, however, my indelible image of home evolved.In the span of five years, I lost my mother to ovarian cancer, and just before my freshman year at IU, my father passed away from a heart attack. As I left my house in Portland in August 2008, starting college at IU felt like a fresh start, a place where I sink my feet into the community and find a new sense of home. Between meeting my hall mates in my dorm, walking onto an athletic team and attending all on-campus events possible, I delighted in wrapping myself in the Bloomington community. I tried hard not to think about my house in Oregon, concentrating my focus on Bloomington as my new and only home.Each day seemed to add an additional brick to the foundations of my newfound sense of home at IU. I came here knowing no one, yet I was soon building a family that I could laugh and share with. Life continued this way until last November, when I was suddenly hit with the realization that my house in Portland had to be sold and my father’s estate closed. All of the stress was too much to deal with halfway across the country, so I decided to spend the spring semester in Portland to take care of business.Over the next seven months, I worked hard to get my house on the market, and on Sept. 2, the keys were placed in the hands of their new owner.As I drove back across the country to IU, a new anxiety began to fill me: now that I no longer have a house in Portland, where is home? For the past two years, I had considered Bloomington to be my home, but had always felt the security of having a house as my “true home” back in Portland.Although I had tried so hard to distance myself from referring to Portland as my home, my attachment to Oregon lingered somewhere between the cool Pacific Ocean and the sun rising over Mount Hood on a fall morning.When I started college, I thought I had to choose to view home as being in Portland or Bloomington, but I’ve come to find that home is not an all-or-nothing concept.As college students, we are fortunate enough to cultivate multiple images of home. It doesn’t have to be embodied in the house where you grew up and need not be attached to an address. It can be found in the laughter you share over a late-night ice cream with your roommate. It can be found in cheering on your team at the homecoming game. It can be found in a philosophy discussion with your classmates and professors. Why settle for one definition of home? Why work hard to make home a solitary, immovable concept? For our college years and the rest of our lives, let’s find a sense of home in wherever we go. Whether your distance from your hometown is three hours by car or 10 hours by plane, know that you’re not as far away from home as you think. In fact, you’re there right now, and if you carry that sense with you wherever you go, you will always be at home.
(10/29/10 3:36am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>After many late nights of rehearsals and hours spent memorizing lines in iambic pentameter, 13 actors in tailored business suits are ready to take the stage ... if you can call it a stage.University Players, IU’s student-run theatre organization, will open its 2010-11 season with “Julius Caesar: A Corporate Tragedy,” by senior Robert Casey Ellis, an adaptation of William Shakespeare’s play “Julius Caesar.” Inspired by Orson Welles’ 1937 adaptation of “Julius Caesar” as a comment on fascist Italy, Ellis, a telecommunications and theatre major, said anytime there is an abuse of power over people, the themes of the play are relevant.Taking a look at the influence and control of today’s major corporations, Ellis found Julius Caesar as a medium to express current sentiments toward the business world.“The play is a comment on the corporate bailouts,” Ellis said. “It’s taking a look at corruption, ambivalence and betrayal to examine the powers of Wall Street.” In this production, the character Brutus deals with conflicts of loyalty, reputation and pride, and the play centers around a plot to take down Caesar, whom Brutus, among others, believes is trying to unethically save his corporation with a bailout from the Senate. Unlike most theatrical productions at IU, the play will be performed in a lecture hall in the Kelley School of Business.Freshman Chelsey Sorbo, the stage manager, said with limited spaces for performance on campus, room 219 has been an interesting space to stage a show.“The play already has a business feel to it,” Sorbo said of Ellis’ adaptation. “Performing in the business school makes it kind of special.”Sorbo, who became involved with University Players at the beginning of the school year, was asked to take on the role of stage manager. “The University Players does a really good job of giving people opportunities to do things that they normally wouldn’t have the chance to do,” Sorbo said.A chance to see Shakespeare in a new and accessible light is exactly what Ellis desires for the audience of his production.“Shakespeare wrote these plays for the common man,” Ellis said. “The plays were not intended to be just for academia but to express contemporary, relevant and universal ideas so that everyone could take away something.”While the play will be in contemporary fashion with the setting and costumes, actors will be performing the direct lines from Shakespeare’s original play.“I want people to see these immortal words and that they still hold weight today,” Ellis said.While Ellis’ adaptation offers a corporate commentary through the production, he finds that a Shakespeare play is malleable to whatever relevant issues are at hand.“If people take something away, that will be great,” Ellis said. “But our primary purpose is to entertain.”