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(01/28/11 6:19am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>It’s dark and freezing at 6 a.m. Wednesday, but in the middle of the School of Health, Physical Education and Recreation track is a scene of sweat and organization. Jim Gordon, cadet battalion commander, leads a circle of cadets in sit-ups.This summer, at the Leadership Development and Assessment Course at Fort Lewis, Wash., 11 senior cadets from IU achieved the highest possible rating. The achievement ranked the students among the highest 16 percent of the 5,200 cadets who participated in the five-week evaluation course, Lt. Col. Michael Ogden said.During their final semester, the seniors honored for their physical, academic and leadership abilities still wake up each morning before daylight to lead a gym full of young men and women.The ROTC trains students to become commanding officers after graduation, but it’s not a requirement that all cadets join the military.After Gordon graduates from IU with a degree in history this May, he will become an infantry officer.It’s the position he’s dreamed of since he was a little boy. He said he was easy to shop for at Christmas because he always asked for GI Joes.“He’ll be like the executive of a corporation,” 2nd Lt. Jamie Hartman said. “He will plan what his unit does and be in charge of training a platoon.”Gordon wants to work in Afghanistan, but for now he’s shouting commands to cadets who will sit with other students in classes today. The current senior class holds an average GPA of 3.25, Ogden said.“After seeing what these cadets are going through, I would recommend ROTC over Westpoint’s total immersion,” Master Sgt. Richard Meiers said while watching Gordon run through the drills. “You get the college environment here.”When Gordon graduates and heads into military life, he’ll walk away from a class of seniors who all received a placement at one of their top three military branch choices.The leaders this year helped establish an all-female team for the elite Ranger Challenge, considered the “varsity sport” of Army ROTC, Ogden said.Rachel Wertz, the team’s captain, said she was surprised and excited by how many women tried out for an event that has featured squads of eight men and one woman in the past.Gordon said he and the other senior cadets are handing down skills by training juniors to take the lead.At a weekly leadership lab Thursday, Gordon stood under a bright red “Hoosiers” banner in the University Gym. He spoke to the entire battalion of about 150 cadets, who sat cross-legged on the court floor dressed in army combat uniforms.In a gym steeped in University spirit, the men and women in the room were learning about working as soldiers across the ocean.As one of the highest-rated cadets in the nation, Gordon himself is preparing to take that trip.
(01/12/11 5:42am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>On the first anniversary of the magnitude 7.0 earthquake that shook Haiti and rocked the world to attention, Haitians still shuffle among rubble and live in tents.And what do we Americans do?We ask what happened to our money.We gave hundreds of millions of dollars. Two IU student groups gave $25,000 to one organization, Partners in Health, alone.The news tells us that little has changed in Haiti, and we’re angry because last time we saw that sad place on the news, we gave. More earthquakes could be in Haiti’s future as tectonic plates continue to shift, said IU Professor of Geological Sciences Michael Hamburger.But Haiti was there between those news broadcasts, and its survivors shambled along, frustrated too that they couldn’t do more for themselves and their country.Like us, when Haitians see a desperate situation, they respond. Haiti is a country that gives.A mother gives birth to a screaming child, then stands up, sweating, and drags her IV across the floor to a chair. There is one bed for birth. She made room for the next woman in line.A man looks up from his rows of corn, sees you are a guest, and yells to his wife to buy cold Coca-Cola for these travelers, using the handful of gourde coins they’ve saved.I saw these scenes in my two visits to Haiti in the past two years.We ask, “We threw you money, why didn’t you fix yourself?”We should be asking, why does a country just an hour and a half from Miami by plane look like a war zone? And why, after endless media coverage, did we stop paying attention?We grew tired of your brokenness. We grew tired of your crying because we only see what we gave you, not what you give us.At IU, you give us The Creole Institute, the foremost research center on the Creole language in the world, led by Albert Valdman, a renowned linguistic scholar.Haiti, you gave us Nick Andre, a former IU Creole professor and father of five who sang and performed at arts events around Bloomington before moving home to take care of his family.You inspired our local organization, Bloomington for Haiti, to arrange a film festival at the end of this month to honor your people.You sent us your children, adopted as babies into this community.You gave us Solfils Telfort, a research assistant at the IU Creole Institute. He was born in Haiti and grew up there before attending IU in 2008.He has never grown tired of Haiti, nor of the Skype conversations with his family who lives in Cape Haitian, far north of the earthquake-shaken Port-Au-Prince.Today, he asks why the world only pays attention to his country when there is a disaster.Haiti is a place, not a tragedy. The Haitian earthquake was a tragedy, but the country is not. There is hope because Haiti is a place that gives.
(11/29/10 7:45pm)
He lost a $6 million business, his house, and his cars. He kept his family and found a voice. As a 30-year-old freshman and the star of next semester’s opera, Andy Lunsford became.
(11/29/10 5:34pm)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>James Madison, an IU professor who teaches a class on Indiana history, has seen it all. He’s watched every attempted IU mascot—a guy in a cowboy hat, for example—falter and flop over the years. One of the problems is that no one knows just what a Hoosier is. “I think it’s very important that we disagree on what Hoosier means so that we continue to have this conversation.”Point taken. Let’s continue.If Madison could design a Hoosier mascot, he says he might pick the buffalo1, which is on the Indiana state seal. But he knows, too, that most animals are already taken by other schools.“Whatever animal you come up with, you’re repeating, unless you come up with a mythical creature with an Indiana identity,” he says. He’s got a better idea.“How about a pork tenderloin sandwich? Is this a question to be serious about, or humorous about?”We’d like to know, too. Whatever the IU mascot could be, it needs to be rooted in something specific to Indiana, he says.“We’re the state school. Purdue can’t do it. They’ve got some godforsaken boilermaker.”
(11/08/10 6:06am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Home-lake advantage means they know where the fish hide. It means they’ve scouted out spots and they call a few “lucky.” And it means grandma is watching.With family and Hoosier fans cheering them on, the IU Bass Fishing Club’s Jesse Schultz and Dustin Vaal sealed their second straight victory in the FLW College Fishing Central Regional Championship this weekend on Lake Monroe. Twenty teams competed.The two-man team traded in a three-day total of nine fish weighing a collective 31 pounds, 7 ounces for a $50,000 prize. Half the money goes to IU, and half goes to the team. The top five teams in each region will compete nationally in April.Schultz and Vaal both said they try to fish as one fisherman. Side by side at the front of the boat, they cast out and reel in rhythmically. When one hooked a bass, the other netted it. On Saturday, Schultz was the net man for Vaal, who caught all three of the final day’s fish. But Vaal said he needed his teammate out there. After frigid daily launches at 8:30 a.m., the two stayed energized by moving around to their favorite sweet spots on the lake and finding a pattern of casting to lure the fish.That pattern, which the two guarded until the end of the tournament, was deep-fishing over timber, Vaal said. They used a deep-diving crankbait.The event itself was like a carnival for fish enthusiasts. The National Guard sponsored the event and provided a festival in the tailgating fields, high-quality highlight reels and camera crews following the fishermen.Professional fisherman Justin Lucas was a host of the event. He weighed each team’s fish and said he had been watching the IU team’s excitement grow since the two fishermen qualified in May for this weekend’s championship on Kentucky Lake in Gilbertsville, Ky.“They’ve been chomping at the bit for this to happen for a long time,” he said. Schultz said the excitement sprang from having the event at home — on their lake with their family and friends nearby. That allowed the club to help out and draw in bigger crowds. Free pizza after Saturday’s football game lured fans to the final weigh-in.Clint Shireman, a junior in the fishing club, watched the crowd grow after the game. He helped set up tents and ran a casting competition booth at the festival. He said the victory is huge for the team, and he hopes to use some of the winnings for future club travel events.He and other members of the club made up part of the crowd that cheered on the fishermen at the final weigh-in. Schultz’s and Vaal’s family members held signs hand-drawn in marker, saying “Find Lunkers and Win” and “KY Lake or Bust!” And, on a huge sheet of red poster board, “Memaw says: Go Jesse.” Grandma Darlene Schultz, who bought Jesse his first fishing pole, now watched him win his second consecutive college fishing tournament. Home-lake advantage means the memories are close, and this weekend, knowledge of the lake paid off for family and team alike.
(11/08/10 5:46am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Home-lake advantage means they know where the fish hide. It means they’ve scouted out spots and they call a few “lucky.” And it means grandma is watching.With family and Hoosier fans cheering them on, the IU Bass Fishing Club’s Jesse Schultz and Dustin Vaal sealed their second straight victory in the FLW College Fishing Central Regional Championship this weekend on Lake Monroe. Twenty teams competed.The two-man team traded in a three-day total of nine fish weighing a collective 31 pounds, 7 ounces for a $50,000 prize. Half the money goes to IU, and half goes to the team. The top five teams in each region will compete nationally in April.Schultz and Vaal both said they try to fish as one fisherman. Side by side at the front of the boat, they cast out and reel in rhythmically. When one hooked a bass, the other netted it. On Saturday, Schultz was the net man for Vaal, who caught all three of the final day’s fish. But Vaal said he needed his teammate out there. After frigid daily launches at 8:30 a.m., the two stayed energized by moving around to their favorite sweet spots on the lake and finding a pattern of casting to lure the fish.That pattern, which the two guarded until the end of the tournament, was deep-fishing over timber, Vaal said. They used a deep-diving crankbait.The event itself was like a carnival for fish enthusiasts. The National Guard sponsored the event and provided a festival in the tailgating fields, high-quality highlight reels and camera crews following the fishermen.Professional fisherman Justin Lucas was a host of the event. He weighed each team’s fish and said he had been watching the IU team’s excitement grow since the two fishermen qualified in May for this weekend’s championship on Kentucky Lake in Gilbertsville, Ky.“They’ve been chomping at the bit for this to happen for a long time,” he said. Schultz said the excitement sprang from having the event at home — on their lake with their family and friends nearby. That allowed the club to help out and draw in bigger crowds. Free pizza after Saturday’s football game lured fans to the final weigh-in.Clint Shireman, a junior in the fishing club, watched the crowd grow after the game. He helped set up tents and ran a casting competition booth at the festival. He said the victory is huge for the team, and he hopes to use some of the winnings for future club travel events.He and other members of the club made up part of the crowd that cheered on the fishermen at the final weigh-in. Schultz’s and Vaal’s family members held signs hand-drawn in marker, saying “Find Lunkers and Win” and “KY Lake or Bust!” And, on a huge sheet of red poster board, “Memaw says: Go Jesse.” Grandma Darlene Schultz, who bought Jesse his first fishing pole, now watched him win his second consecutive college fishing tournament. Home-lake advantage means the memories are close, and this weekend, knowledge of the lake paid off for family and team alike.
(11/06/10 9:09pm)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Nine bass and a knowledge of the home lake meant victory for the IU Bass Fishing Club this weekend. Senior Jesse Schultz and junior Dustin Vaal won their second consecutive FLW Central Regional Championship and $50,000. The memory of last year’s success combined with high expectations for the home team were on their minds during the three-day tournament, Schultz said. The two fished against 20 other teams on their home lake, Lake Monroe.The University and the fishing club will split the $50,000 earnings in half. The final weigh-in, at 3 p.m. Saturday, was located on the tailgating fields near the DeVault Alumni Center. Fans leaving the football game stopped for free pizza and cheered on the fishermen as they weighed their day’s catch. The team won with a three-day total of nine fish for 31 pounds, 7 ounces.
(11/05/10 9:29pm)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>On day two of a three-day regional fishing tournament at Lake Monroe, IU bass fishermen Jesse Schultz and Dustin Vaal fueled on donuts and a deeper hunger for monster fish.With knowledge of the lake on their side, they are currently in second place among five final teams angling for a $50,000 prize. The two men won this tournament last year on Kentucky Lake near Murray, Ky.They’ve caught six fish for a two-day total of 20 pounds and 3 ounces.Zack Wojtowicz, a fellow IU Bass Fishing Club member who follows the team in his boat during the tournament, said the fishermen have been bagging their best near the end of the day.On Thursday, they caught two within the last 15 minutes of the day and today they caught all four after noon. The cutoff time is 3 p.m.The final day is Saturday. Schultz said he and Vaal will continue their technique of hitting all their favorite spots quickly. “When the fish aren’t biting, you have to move around a lot,” he said. “It’s not really luck but going to spots that you have confidence in. You can’t count luck out of the picture, but you have to work harder than it.”Truman State University is in first place with 10 fish and 21 pounds, 15 ounces. The top five teams out of an initial 20 will advance Saturday for a shot at the money.At 8:30 Friday morning, the temperature was just at freezing and the fishermen ate a quick donut breakfast. They waved to their parents and fellow club members, then launched their boat among the other competing schools at the Cutright boat ramp. FLW Outdoors and the National Guard sponsor the event and a fishing festival in the tailgating fields near the DeVault Alumni Center from 9 a.m. to noon Saturday. Final weigh-in, which Schultz said will hopefully draw in the post-football game crowd, is open to the public at 4 p.m. Saturday at the fields.
(10/26/10 3:20am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Dustin Vaal kissed his fish. He hauled the 5-pound, 5-ounce largemouth bass into the boat just long enough for a picture and a weigh-in, then puckered up before dropping it back in Lake Monroe on Friday.“You give me two weeks,” he said to the fish. “Go eat, and then come back to me.”This weekend was the IU Bass Fishing Club’s last time to spend on the lake before the FLW College Fishing Central Regional Championship. The championship is Nov. 4 to 6 at Lake Monroe. After Sunday, the team isn’t allowed to touch the water until practice day Nov. 3.Jesse Schultz and Vaal, the two IU fishermen who will defend their regional title from last year, didn’t miss a moment to spend on the water, fishing all three days this weekend. On Friday, they fished from 8:30 a.m. to 7 p.m., catching four fish and scouting their favorite banks.Last year, IU Bass Fishing won $50,000, including a new boat, in the regional tournament on Kentucky Lake near Murray, Ky. Now, they’re looking for a win on a lake they know better than any other team.The home lake advantage is about knowing the good spots, Schultz said. The team looks for shallow water against banks where trees and rocks provide shelter. Wind pushes schools of small fish to shallow areas, where the bass swim to feed.Vaal’s favorite season on the water is fall. But in weeks, days or hours, a lake can change. Rain and wind can shift the movement of fish and personality of the water.“We know where all the cover is,” Schultz said. “So if the water rises, we realize what’s under it.”Although they can’t control the weather, Schultz and Vaal said they can focus on how they fish.“We have to be one mind working together,” Schultz said. “We don’t argue. We become like one fisherman.”Schultz and Vaal fished again from 8:30 a.m. to 7 p.m. on Saturday, catching nothing until they found a new sweet spot and caught four fish in 30 minutes, Schultz said.On Sunday, the club fished a tournament among members, with Vaal and Schultz fishing in two boats to cover more water. Schultz came in third. First place went to Zack Wojtowicz and second to Chris Weiss.It only took a 6.8-pound fish to win the tournament, Schultz said. This could be a sign that the regional tournament will result in fewer or smaller fish, but Schultz said he and Vaal want to be the fishermen catching them. In the May division qualifier, Schultz and Vaal placed second behind Purdue on Kentucky Lake. The other division qualifiers will gather at Lake Monroe for the 3-day tournament that will send the top five teams to compete nationally.
(10/12/10 3:08pm)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>In a record-setting crowd of nearly 2,300 runners, junior David Burton made a simple fashion statement in Dunn Meadow. He wore only tight black short-shorts, socks and sneakers, and an American flag draped around his neck, superhero style.With about 2,140 registered runners and another 150 estimated tag-alongs, the Nearly Naked Mile drew the biggest crowd of its three-year history, said Mollie George, vice president of philanthropy for the Student Alumni Association.The Homecoming Week streak, organized by the Alumni and Student Alumni associations, required participants to donate clothing or $10 to United Way of Monroe County and run a course through campus in their skivvies.Burton chose to accessorize with stars and stripes, because he is a member of the United States Air Force. “The shorts are for comfort,” he said before the race. “The socks are a necessity, and the flag is for this country.”At seven minutes to 10 p.m., Burton walked with other racers to the start line. Legs stretched out of duct tape bikinis and lined up next to tutus and man-thongs, the nearly-naked spanned the entire block between Sixth and Seventh Street on Indiana Avenue.Someone started the chant, “Hoo-Hoo-Hoo-Hoosiers!” and after a few rounds, it turned into “U-S-A, U-S-A!”When the crowd opened up to run, Burton and his friends stuck with it around the corner of Indiana and Seventh and headed to Showalter Fountain. Burton jumped in, then realized he might soil his flag in the icy water.“I was soaking, but I tried to hold my flag up,” he said. “I had to make sure it didn’t hit the ground.”Burton bounded out of the water and ran the route behind the Indiana Memorial Union and through the Sample Gates to the finish.Although he wasn’t the first across the tape (that honor went to sophomore Michael Nussa), Burton said he ran the race for his country and its military.Every participant received a yellow armband, the entrance ticket to after parties at either Kilroy’s or BuffaLouie’s, where runners could choose from free breadsticks or French fries. The top five finishers received free entry to Wednesday’s cornhole tournament in Dunn Meadow.Brad Baughman, SAA’s director of philanthropy, said the racers blew away the attendance goal of 1,000. He said that students have started to think of the race as a tradition. The SAA, he said, advertised the event on Facebook, sold T-shirts and spread the event by word of mouth. An online form simplified sign-ups, and the near-60 degree fall night set a comfortable race scene.Burton donated T-shirts and sweatpants. He kept his flag.
(09/29/10 12:59am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>IU President Michael McRobbie said 10,177 words in his State of the University address on Sept. 28. We weren’t there for the speech, but we found the text here and pasted it into our favorite word jumbler, Wordle. Out popped your president’s words, in visual form. The more he said it, the bigger it is.
(09/17/10 4:13am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>She entered the world on a rainy morning in Bloomington and never stopped moving. She learned to ride a bike at age 5, drove a truck with a stick shift and danced in a red dress at prom. She squeezed in bike trips between hanging out with friends and working at the Student Recreational Sports Center. She rode alone because no one could keep up with her.On May 31, 2000, she ate a bowl of cereal in her kitchen, strapped on her shoes, hopped on her new bike and never came home.Details of Jill’s life were batted around in court and discussed on television and in the paper. Her senior portrait smiled at the family everywhere. But the Behrmans aren’t missing a victim. They miss Jill.* * *Eric and Marilyn Behrman never know when a memory of their daughter will wash over them.Marilyn liked the name Jill because she heard it in Shaun Cassidy’s version of Da Doo Ron Ron. I met her on a Monday and my heart stood still.When Marilyn took Jill home from Bloomington Hospital, 2-year-old Brian wasn’t sure about his baby sister. He smashed a toy train on the floor when he realized he was no longer the only child. As she learned to crawl and then walk, Jill knocked over his blocks and followed him everywhere, so Marilyn put a gate across the door of his room.When Brian learned to ride a bike at age 7, Jill learned two weeks later. She asked her dad to take her training wheels off, and he ran alongside her while she circled the yard. She found the road and looked back to see her dad had let go.Eric drove the family to church every Sunday at First United Methodist in Bloomington. As the children grew, they left the nursery and sat with their parents in their usual seats in the balcony.In sixth grade, Jill sailed off her bike and landed braces-first into the pavement. A mess of blood and teeth, she had to have root canals and a bridge. She didn’t tell her friends that one of her teeth was fake.In high school, she still slept with her baby blanket under her pillow. The one with the silk edge she rubbed between her fingers.She wore a little mascara but never blush because she was rosy from working out. Boys were easier friends than girls.At 16, when she got her driver’s license, Jill picked out an old red truck. A stick shift. Her father took her to the IU Memorial Stadium parking lot to practice with the clutch. Eventually she got better.Her best friend Jessica Merkel remembers when Jill drove her to Louisville, Ky. for a volleyball tournament with the truck windows rolled down. They belted out songs from the “Now and Then” soundtrack with their hair blowing in the wind.Jill surprised her dad when she asked to go prom dress shopping with him. Usually she took him shoe shopping because she knew he would buy what she wanted. But a prom dress was different. They went to a shop on Kirkwood Avenue, where Eric picked a red sleeveless gown. He thought it made her tan skin and dark hair look beautiful. She held it by the hanger and said he only picked it because it was IU crimson. He put it back on the rack. Later, she tried it on. Dad was right.She was self-conscious about her athletic build and was a picky eater. Baby carrots were a meal with Crystal Light or lemon-lime Gatorade. She would push away a turkey sandwich if her mom put mayonnaise on it, but she allowed mustard. Microwave Rice Krispies treats were the one dessert she wouldn’t give up. When her mom heard her throwing up in the bathroom, Jill confessed she was binging and purging. Group therapy helped.Her dad thought she might go to college out of state. During her senior year at Bloomington South, she walked into the living room where her dad was reading the Sunday paper. When she said she wanted to go to IU, Eric threw the paper over his head in joy. He had been worried about out-of-state tuition costs. And he wanted her close to home.That summer, as she prepared for a bicycle trip through the Blue Ridge Parkway, she longed for a $1,200 Cannondale bicycle. It was an R500, a sleek black and white road bike. Her parents split the price with her. She told her mom, “You know this is an investment in my future.”When Jill trained, her friends couldn’t keep up. That’s when she started to ride on her own.* * *Whenever he sees a girl running or riding her bike alone, Eric thinks of his daughter. Not long ago, when Brian realized his sister’s 30th birthday was approaching, he stayed up late thinking about what Jill would have been like. Usually he doesn’t allow himself to dwell on thoughts of how much he misses her.“It hurts too much.”He thinks of other things. “I want to think about what Jill is doing now,” he said, referring to the organization in her name. Jill’s House is a home for patients undergoing cancer treatments at the Midwest Proton Radiotherapy Institute in Bloomington. A 5K run/walk named in her honor raises money for Jill’s House and a leadership scholarship. The race is Oct. 23.If Brian does allow himself to reminisce about his sister, he still thinks of her as a teenager. When he holds his 15-month-old daughter, he wonders if Jill would have children now. He named his daughter Lainey Jillian after the aunt she will never meet.* * *Jill was terrified of strangers. She would run inside at the sight of an unknown car. At her freshman orientation, she walked to the Big Foot gas station to buy a cold drink. A man outside glared at her, and she ran into the store, ducked behind the counter and sat at the cashier’s feet.At IU, she wanted to study business, but accounting class weeded her out. Beer was not her thing, but she developed a taste for rum and Cokes. Brian, a junior at IU, invited her to his Delta Upsilon parties. He wanted to keep an eye on the boys who were interested in his baby sister.For her 19th birthday, her dad organized a surprise while he was out of town. Brian, his accomplice, made Jill stand on a chair in the middle of Wright Food Court while the original Straight No Chaser a capella group serenaded her. She blushed uncontrollably, then later told Brian she wanted to marry a man who sang.That May, she prepared for a summer job at IU Alumni Camp Brosius. In her room, she stacked her jeans and shirts and kept a list of what still needed to be done. On one of her last days at home, her mom took her to see the movie “Return to Me.”On the morning of the 31st, Jill ate a bowl of oat bran. Marilyn was getting ready for work and asked Jill to mow the lawn before she headed to her shift at the SRSC. Jill was more focused on her cereal.She didn’t show up for a late lunch with her dad and her grandfather. Her bike wasn’t at the SRSC when Eric went looking for it. When Marilyn came home in the evening, her first thought was Jill hadn’t mowed the lawn. Then she saw her bike and shoes were gone. Jill never rode at night.No one had heard from her. In the morning, Eric drove to the police station to file a report. Brian walked to an on-campus computer lab and printed off the first flyers with his sister’s picture. Three days later, a Cannondale was found undamaged in a field near a favorite riding route. Eric had gone to Bikesmith’s to check the registration number on the bike they had sold him. The Cannondale tossed in the field was Jill’s.Three years later, in 2003, two hunters found Jill’s remains in a wooded roadside area in Morgan County. In 2006, John Myers II was found guilty for the murder, and he is now serving a 65-year sentence at the state prison in Michigan City, Ind.* * *At church last Sunday, Eric and Marilyn sat in the balcony where they used to sit with Jill. Eric gazed at a white memorial candle on the altar. Its flame has burned since Jill disappeared 10 years ago.After the service, Marilyn said she thinks a 30-year-old Jill would live in Colorado, where people love the outdoors and sports. Jill would drive to Fishers, Ind., to play with her niece Lainey Jillian.Today, the family will celebrate her life quietly. Eric and Marilyn will look through photo albums, and Brian will eat dinner with his wife and daughter.Jill might have asked for a Snuggie for her birthday, her dad joked. She always loved a blanket. She would probably receive birthday messages on her cell phone and Facebook profile, neither of which 19-year-old Jill had.For nearly a year after her daughter disappeared, Marilyn kept the stacks of jeans and shirts in Jill’s room, untouched. When she finally boxed them, she placed them on the top shelf of Jill’s closet. Beneath the shelf hangs the red prom dress.The interviews for this story came from Brian, Eric, and Marilyn Behrman, Jessica Merkel and Becky Shoemake Griffin.
(07/26/10 6:01pm)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Port-Au-Prince, Haiti—Nick Andre knew he needed to stay in Haiti. His wife and five children were there. And even though he had a job teaching Haitian Creole at IU and was pursuing a master’s degree in French Linguistics, something told him he needed to be home.That was last summer, before he knew the earth would shake. Five months before the quake, he didn’t know one wall of his house would fall. He didn’t know then that his wife and children would survive, although thousands of Haitians would die January 12.In May, I visited Haiti to learn about a tree-planting project and visit friends. I made a trip to see Andre, who had taught me Creole during the 2008-2009 school year. I found him outside of Port-Au-Prince in a small office where he hunts for jobs. Before the earthquake, Andre had hoped to find work in education somewhere in Haiti. At IU, Andre earned an MA in French Instruction and was working on another in French Linguistics when he decided to return to be with his family. Higher education achieved abroad doesn’t guarantee work, especially in Haiti, a country where more than two-thirds of the population doesn’t hold a formal job.After the earthquake, Haiti needed doctors and construction workers more than it needed professors. But Andre has been able to find work as a translator for visiting aid groups. Andre’s fluency in Creole, English, and French make him an ideal translator for working with educated Haitians as well as those who speak only Creole. The work, however, comes and goes with the visitors.Andre’s struggle to find lasting work represents one of the great frustrations of Haitian life: even if you find an opportunity for education, you will return to a country that isn’t ready for your work.Or perhaps Haiti most needs people like Nick—people who have gone and returned. Nick has lived comfortably in Bloomington, but returned to Haiti because it will always be his home.“It was a good decision to stay with my family, but it also is hard to stay and not have a job when I need to help my family,” he said.His on-and-off job as a translator means he has time to pick up his children from school. Their classes have started again after the earthquake, but sessions are held outside in the schoolyard. Students and teachers are still scared the buildings will crumble.But the students learn. In their yellow shirts and khaki shorts and skirts, the students sit in rows and learn about their history.As they grow, they will face a struggle similar to Andre’s—finding a meaning and a place for their education and the experience of living through the quake.IU’s link to Haiti is a strong one. The Creole Institute, where Andre was a research assistant and teacher, is a prime source for Creole language materials that have been used by government officials, aid groups, and students since 1964.As long as IU shares this link to Haiti, there will be a community of support for people like André who have been part of the Bloomington family and returned to where they are most needed.
(06/10/10 3:32pm)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Marc Fishman is a junior and an assistant editor for Inside magazine.He plans to read:“Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter” Seth Grahame-SmithWhat if the president who freed the slaves was motivated by vampires? This book makes history a little more interesting ... and supernatural.“The Edge of Physics: A Journey to Earth’s Extremes to Unlock the Secrets of the Universe”Anil AnanthaswamyAn exploration into the questions that keep physicists up at night.“My Queer War” James LordThe author tells the story of one soldier’s sexual awakening during WWII.Natalie Avon graduated in 2010 and is the former editor-in-chief of the Indiana Daily Student.She plans to read “Pride and Prejudice” for the fourth time.She’ll also check out:“The Help”Kathryn StockettAn uplifting novel set during the Civil Rights Movement in Mississippi.“Outliers: The Story of Success”Malcolm GladwellAnother of Gladwell’s economic, social, and political fusion books that asks why some people are successful and others never achieve their potential.Isak Nti Asare is a senior and the president of the African Students Association.Isak plans to read a slew of Ernest Hemingway books. “I started reading For Whom the Bell Tolls, and thought to myself, ‘I like the way this guy writes— maybe I can read everything he ever wrote,’” he said.His ambitious list:“For Whom the Bell Tolls”“A Farewell To Arms”“In Our Time”“The Sun Also Rises”“The Nick Adams Stories”“Across the River and Into the Trees”“The Torrents of Spring”Nti Asare will also read Norman Fairclough’s “Language and Power” to prepare for an honors thesis in Linguistics.Titilayo Rasaki is a sophomore and the founder and president of IU’s Amnesty International Association.She plans to read:“The White Man’s Burden: Why the West’s Efforts to Aid the Rest Have Done So Much Ill and So Little Good”William Easterly“Burden” explores the long-lasting effects of humanitarian aid.“A Thousand Splendid Suns”Khaled HosseiniThis book is the follow-up novel to bestseller “Kite Runner.”“Riot: A Love Story”Shashi TharoorSet in modern-day India, this work reveals the religious and cultural tensions on the subcontinent.
(06/09/10 3:20pm)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>My friend Emma and I love to share a big plate of rice and a vegetable bhaji. We always laugh about our friends and talk about our future plans. We’ve been doing that since the first day we arrived on campus because Emma was my randomly assigned roommate. We both entered that lottery and came out with a lasting friendship. Here’s how we did it. Chat earlyThe first thing I did when I found out my roommate’s name was find her on Facebook. I sent her a message that started, “Hope this isn’t creepy…” Thankfully, she didn’t think I was a stalker. Instead of starting to lay out rules for our year, I asked her questions about herself. What was she studying? What was she doing that summer, and what was she interested in? I remember her telling me she liked clothes, cities, and coffee. Awesome. I told her I liked dinosaurs and books. We started off silly and honest, and that made us closer.After a few conversations, we began to talk about who would bring what. We didn’t talk about rules or expectations, but said we would be glad to when we met. This made us excited to see each other but also respectful of the discussion we would have in the future. Be giving before you’re demandingEmma and I had to talk about our sleeping habits. We had completely different schedules. She liked to be in bed by 11 p.m. and up by 7 a.m. I concentrate best when everyone else is asleep and the birds are thinking about waking up.I knew keeping my light on into the wee hours would annoy Emma, so I tried to work in the library or our dorm’s computer lab. Getting out of our room helped me make friends and was less distracting, anyway. If I did work in our room, I read or wrote quietly and without much light. Likewise, Emma went about her morning routine without waking me up. Care, but don’t be annoyingNot everyone wants to be best friends with her roommate. But it isn’t too much to ask how her day was or what she working on. Plan roommate-only time to eat and talk if you two have grown close, but don’t force someone to talk or tag along for all their activities. Emma and I had a bunch of mutual friends whom we would hang out with together, but we also had a few friends of our own. We didn’t get jealous or annoyed if we needed some alone time. Don’t complain on your floorYour floormates don’t need to know about every missing sock or dirty dish. Talk about that with your roommate. If you really need to vent, call your mom or talk to a friend outside of the floor. The last thing you want is word getting back to your roommate and starting needless drama. If Emma and I ever got frustrated with the other, we would talk about it and both agree to help. That meant sometimes she would vacuum and sometimes I would wash dishes. We shared responsibilities. Remember this is collegeIf your roommate has a significant other over and forgets to put a belt on the door, laugh a little. If he blasts music from time to time, dance along. People are annoying sometimes. It’s true. Just remember it’s his or her first time living alone. Forgive and have fun. Your roommate could be a lasting friend or future housemate. At the very least, share the fun of freshman year and then part peacefully. Here are a few more tips: Do: Get to know people together. It’s fun to have a group of friends. Don’t: Expect your roommate to pick all your pals. Make friends in your classes, and get to know other people on your own. Do: Talk about what food you are willing to share and what’s yours. Don’t: Label every item in your room with your name and an angry face in marker. Seriously, it’s rude. Share a little. Do: Go out of your way sometimes. My roommate made me soup and watched movies with me when I was sick. Don’t: Act like your roommate’s mother. They’re learning to live on their own, too.
(05/03/10 12:18am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Twelve students pulled their drivers’ licenses out of their pockets, placed their shoes in gray trays and hung their hands loose as they walked through metal detectors on just another Friday before class. This time, the guard said a few shirts were cut too low. Zip up those hoodies, the students heard. The students weren’t entering Ballantine or Woodburn Halls. For the last time in their second eight-week class, the students entered the Putnamville Correctional Facility to join their 16 classmates within the prison.The Inside-Out Prison Exchange Program is the first of its kind at IU. Micol Seigel, assistant professor in the African American and African Diaspora Studies Department, completed instructor training last summer. Inside-Out is a national program with courses taught in nearly 40 states, according to the program’s website.Putnamville is about an hour’s drive northwest for students. In their weekly classes, they discuss the weight of words. “Inside students” are called just that, not “prisoner,” “offender” or “criminal.” IU students are called “outside students.”Inside and outside students learn side-by-side. They work together on projects, read, participate in discussions and write papers. Inside students choose whether they are graded on an honors, college or high-school level.Their final ceremony on Friday morning featured guest speakers and student reflections.Lindsey Krantz, a senior outside student who spoke at the ceremony, said the class sessions have made her more mindful of words and their power. The students sat together in the prison’s common classroom space, T-shirts and sweaters next to tan institutional jumpsuits.Donald Avance, an inside student, addressed his classmates by speaking about the “us versus them” mentality between men serving time and the guards who run the prison.“We’ve all been so busy solidifying our position that we have lost the vision of education, respect and understanding,” he said. He spoke of the candid discussions about power and control he had throughout the past eight weeks.Another inside student, Forrest Ferguson, read poetry about his son, two outside students sang a heartfelt rendition of a Yolanda Adams song and guests from the prison and University spoke.Khalil Muhammad, assistant professor of history, emphasized that prisons today are based on a system of isolation and dehumanization, from high fences to unwritten rules of control. He urged the inside students to demand political and economic equality once they walked out of prison.The prison is a low to medium-security facility, meaning the inmates have a shorter criminal history, according to the prison’s website. Bruce Lemmon, superintendent of education at the facility, said all inside students are scheduled for release within the next decade but face a four in 10 rate of returning to prison.Cortez Brookins, an inside student serving a seven-and-a-half-year sentence, said he thinks programs simillar to this are important for both inside and outside students. He said the students developed communication and trust in each other, something he wants to pass on to his three children.As students and guests ate cookies and drank punch at the closing of the ceremony, Brookins explained his goals. He wants to study accounting so he can help his mother open a day care or start a catering business. He wants his children to know and respect him as a committed father. He doesn’t want to be part of the system of control and power he sees in prison.Seigel said she appreciated the students’ commitment to their reading and writing.“I just had such a profound feeling of awe for the wisdom of people in the inside,” she said. “It gave them a lot more hope and made them optimistic about getting out.”
(04/13/10 1:00am)
1. Get licensed to kill.
(04/13/10 12:51am)
When Colin Farlow picks up the knife he forged, it fits in his hand. His fingers fill the smooth curves, and it balances just right. But Colin’s knife is a tool, not a bragging right.
(04/12/10 3:59am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Call John Henderson a silversmith. Call him a guitar player, a rodeo rider or a Navajo man. Those roles are true, but first, call Henderson a teacher.Henderson, who lives on a Navajo reservation in New Mexico, has traveled to IU to recruit student-teachers for about 33 years, he said. Through IU’s American Indian Reservation Project, Henderson engages students with the Navajo culture. Students teach for a semester of 17 to 18 weeks at boarding schools in Arizona, New Mexico or Utah.This weekend, Henderson spoke to students who will teach at the reservation next year. The School of Education’s spring workshop allowed students to interact with Henderson, who answered questions such as, “How many students will be living in the dorms?” Eighty to 100. “Do they go home on the weekends?” Yes. “What do we do on the weekends?” Don’t sleep 'til noon. Get out and do something.To show students the creativity among the Navajo, Henderson also brought along his art. He pulled out a pad with pencil sketches of the red rocks and tall trees of the reservation. He showed students his silver bracelets, pressed with a design of three stars. At the reservation, he teaches students to think of patterns in nature and simplify them.Laura Stachowski, director of the program, said she sees IU students grow from interactions between Navajo students and IU teachers.“For the first time in their lives, they are a minority in terms of race, culture and language,” she said. “It will forever change how they look at the world.”Tabitha Havlin, a senior teaching in Shonto, Ariz., this semester, functions as the Shonto Preparatory Technology High School’s sole history teacher. In the evenings, she tutors girls from the local elementary school. She said she hopes to be a source of knowledge for kids whose family lives are tough.“I’m not the white savior,” she said. “But I want them to have a good experience with school and life and know that there’s a lot more out there beyond the reservation.”After she graduates in May, Havlin said she plans to return to Arizona and continue teaching.Henderson said he, too, will make teaching his life work. His lessons, both on the reservation and annually at IU, define his legacy.“The joy of being here and doing things with this program is knowing that’s what I have done for mankind,” he said.
(04/07/10 1:30am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>For more than two hours, Colie the dog stopped a revolving door. Colie didn’t growl or bark to protect her territory. She waited for her master.On a day that reached 85 degrees, she sat on the cool marble on the outside floor of the IU Art Museum’s revolving door. She never once tried to go inside. Colie had a black coat and a thick white fur collar that made her look like a queen.Around her neck was a chain collar with two dangling tags. One was a blue rabies vaccination tag. The second explained dog thoughts in human-talk: “I’m not lost, just waiting!” Listed on the tag were her name and the number of her owner. A call to the number went unanswered. It was a scene of nature’s calm power. Instead of pushing Colie to move, visitors to the museum re-routed and used the two side entrances.Passersby stared or smiled at Colie, and sometimes said something in surprise. “That just proves that nobody ever uses that door,” one woman said. When people stopped to pet Colie, she raised her head slowly so they could scratch her chin. She didn’t beg or lick; she allowed a rub and then laid her head back down. From her spot, Colie could see inside the foyer of the museum. She saw a peace lily plant and a sign for this month’s special exhibit, an American landscape painter. When she saw people walking up and down the slanted steps, she raised her ears a little. Neville Vaughan, the museum security guard who sat inside, watched Colie and the people who passed by. None of his supervisors were upset, he said, but they wondered where the dog came from and where she went. He said he thought Colie arrived around noon and was gone by 2:30 p.m.