As much as I want to make this next piece a little less about The Elements of Journalism and a little more about the item I’m actually reviewing, I can’t deny that Jo Kadlecek’s A Minute Before Friday is an ideal companion to Kovach and Rosenstiel’s text.
K&R have a thorough and valuable philosophy of journalism between the covers of their book, but what good is theory if it cannot be applied? Kadlecek’s novel celebrates K&R’s philosophy in a way that is practical and entertaining.
Minute provides great insight on the discipline of verification. I will be brief in this section, as my review of All the President’s Men addresses this topic thoroughly. Suffice to say that Jonna Lightfoot MacLaughlin’s persistence in chasing the story down dead end after dead end embodies the discipline as K&R envisioned it.
Jonna might be flawed – she can’t pull it together and quit smoking, she can be a real space case at times, and her sense of style is nothing short of hopeless – but if there’s one thing she’s got right, it’s her dedication to the truth. Fledgling and jaded journalists alike should follow her example.
Minute also shows how journalism can fulfill its watchdog duty. In their top ten elements of journalism, K&R include “Journalists must serve as an independent monitor of power.” Jonna learns that the Ivy League school Regal University is laundering money and immediately recognizes the story’s importance.
It’s bigger than her friend/love interest David Rockley’s job, which he lost for investigating these claims. It’s bigger than her own job at the Clarion, which she risks by pursuing the story even after her editor urges her to kill it. It’s bigger than her reputation, which she jeopardizes every time she chases down an informant who has already refused to inform her.
But most importantly, Minute confirms K&R’s fears that “independent journalism may be dissolved in the solvent of commercial communication and synergistic self-promotion: corporatism.” This is precisely the process that begins at the Clarion when Walter Wood arrives from the media firm and takes over.
Jonna’s roommate and coworker Hannah X. Hensley, an even more principled and prodigious reporter than Jonna, is furious when Wood tells her, “The more colorful your stories become, the more likely New Yorkers will pick up the Clarion.”
“The only thing he cares about are dollars, not news,” she rants. Sadly this is the state of affairs in many newsrooms today, whether the medium is print or television. What our culture craves is not news but entertainment. If it’s not sensationalized, no one wants to read or watch it, and therefore no one in news wants to run or air it.
Reporters and news people like Jonna and Hannah exist, but they seem to be few in number. Therefore we must take it upon ourselves to be the kind of journalists we ourselves would trust to tell a story. As Jonna told her subway worker friend, Emma, "There are some big mountains to tackle." But as Emma told Jonna in reply, "That's why you're there. . . . This city needs you."
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Non-Christians Live and Unplugged at Gordon College
Photo: Freshman math major Caitlin Schwanda shows how going against the mainstream evangelical trend at Gordon can make some students feel disconnected.
Sarah Grimes hasn’t been to chapel this semester. Even when she used to go, she said it was like being force-fed a Bible; now it just doesn’t seem relevant. Grimes, a senior sociology major from Terryville, CT, was raised by a Christian family in a Christian sub-culture and studies at a Christian college, but she considers herself a “Christian agnostic” at best.
Students in similar positions pepper the Gordon community, though sparingly. Most of them prefer to keep under the radar. Gordon may be a liberal arts institution, but the non-believers of this evangelical community say they feel a lot of social pressure.
“It’s hard to feel plugged in, even though I love people,” said Grimes. “I feel different. [But] I’m very good at playing the game.” She doesn’t talk about her beliefs with many of her peers, not for fear of judgment but because she doesn’t want them to feel sad for her.
Grimes isn’t the only Gordon student questioning, doubting, or even distancing herself from her childhood faith. “It doesn’t really add up for me,” said a senior philosophy major who asked to remain unidentified. He began to see Christianity as “an emotional substitute for something for which there is no evidence.”
As he excavated his faith in search of answers, the back-burner doubts of his adolescence flared into unpalatable problems. Six months ago he admitted to himself that he wasn’t a Christian anymore – but, like Grimes, he’d rather keep this knowledge to himself.
“[When they know you’re not a Christian,] people already have their minds made up about you and you don’t even know their name,” he said.
This is not to say that non-Christians are utterly alienated at Gordon. The student handbook says this school is to be “an atmosphere of free inquiry,” and students agree that it is. They said most professors allow – indeed, invite – faith-related inquiry in the classroom.
“Gordon is liberal enough,” said Grimes. “It’s not all fire and brimstone. But a lot of people could stand to be more open-minded.”
According to Professor of Christian Ministries Mark Cannister, listening should be the priority in interactions with peers who have different denominational backgrounds or no faith at all. The conversation should not begin with an accusation, but with a question.
“It shouldn’t go, ‘You can’t believe this and that at the same time,’” said Cannister, “but ‘help me understand how you can believe these two things at once.’ People want to be heard. You get a lot more mileage out of asking a question back.”
Zach Capalbo, a sophomore computer science/philosophy major, invites Gordon students to ask a lot of questions. Capalbo, who considers himself a Christian, co-founded the “Atheist Society” to provide a forum where beliefs not normally explored at Gordon can be discussed.
“I’m not even sure what truth is a lot of the time,” said Capalbo. But he is sure that a surprising number of students have expressed interest in the Society. The group is not comprised of atheists, as the name suggests, but of students interested in dialogue – students who want, as Cannister suggested, to listen.
The Society hopes to engage Muslim, Wiccan, neopagan and other beliefs, not by subscribing to them but simply by understanding them. The point is acceptance, not agreement.
Refusal to converse about other beliefs tells those who are different, “there are some people we believe God doesn’t love,” said Cannister. This attitude is the inverse of the gospel evangelicals claim to believe.
The question of world religions is not new to Christians. The query behind the query, according to Cannister, is not “are there other ways to God?” but “are you always right about everything?” The Atheist Society accepts that they might be wrong by engaging other perspectives.
Many of the students who, like Grimes, are questioning their faith grew up in Christian settings. Cannister noted that this seems to be the pattern: students who became Christians in high school tend to be on fire for their faith, while those from Christian homes begin to question it.
“The new Christians are shocked by the complacency of those who grew up Christian,” he said. “There’s diversity of what it means to be Christian.” All of the different histories, denominations, and questions that shape this campus can create tension between the burning and the burnt out.
“I appreciate the Christian setting [at Gordon] because I don’t want to give up the faith,” said Grimes. “Talking about faith is an opportunity here. I don’t want to lose hope. . . . I want to remain in Christianity without necessarily subscribing to it.”
Monday, November 30, 2009
"All the President's Men"
Alan J. Pakula's 1976 movie All the President's Men is a good and bad example of how to do journalism. It is a great testament to the discipline of verification mentioned by Kovach and Rosenstiel in The Elements of Journalism as it highlights the importance of persistence, preparation, and asking the right questions. The movie also wrestles with journalists' "obligation to exercise their personal conscience," another element of journalism discussed by Kovach and Rosenstiel, but in this area the heroes do not always excel.
Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein are flawlessly disciplined in the art of verification (the "essence" of journalism according to K&R). They track thousands of tips, leads, and names to break the Watergate story, following trails one would only expect Sherlock Holmes to find. Librarians and old acquaintances from social events become valuable sources of information. Woodward risks his own safety to meet with his informant, Deep Throat, who gives him specific instructions to keep their contact a secret, while Bernstein is unafraid of tarnishing his reputation by acting pushy if it means tracking down the truth. Together they sort through a year's worth of library records in search of one man's history to confirm that he did research on Senator Kennedy. Although many informants turn them away and the editor wants to kill the story, Bernstein recognizes that "this is a goddamn important story!" and perseveres.
We can also glean from this film the value of preparation. Woodward perpetually has a notepad ready and records even the minutest details in case he should need them later. When the two journalists visit informants at home, they arrive with background knowledge of names, professions, connections, and other relevant information. They never waste time on basic questions; this would be disrespectful of the people whose stories they cover and, especially in the midst of a scandal like this, would fail to get them through the door. Revealing that they have some knowledge prompts some people, such as Kenneth Dalhberg, whose $25,000 check ended up in one of the burglars' accounts, to reveal more information.
Woodward and Bernstein also show us the value of asking the right question. I often find myself going into interviews with a list of questions, thinking it may be a contrived conversation, but at least I'll have something to write about later. Woodward and Bernstein have a knack for choosing just the right question, often on the spot. Sometimes that question can even be the leverage that opens further discussion. "You're a lawyer," Woodward says to Markham in the courthouse. "If no one asked you to be here then why are you here?" Later, when a woman tells Bernstein "people sure are worried," he instantly responds, "which people?" The questions seems so logical and obvious coming from another reporter's mouth, yet I know in the same situation I would not say such a sensible thing.
But the heroes of the film are flawed journalists, too. They both persist in asking questions of informants who insist, often multiple times, that they have nothing to say. This appears to be good reporting until one considers the feelings of the people being questioned. They are uncomfortable and even afraid to reveal their knowledge. Which is more important, respecting the people you cover as you yourself would want to be respected, or serving the greater public by getting the story no matter the cost? K&R say a journalist's first responsibility is to the citizens, but does that eliminate the need for personal sensitivity? K&R also say that "practitioners have an obligation to exercise their personal conscience." It seems Woodward and Bernstein err on the side of insensitivity, as a coworker tells them "I don't have the taste for the jugular that you guys have."
Woodward and Bernstein are also guilty of listening in on phone conversations via a second line and bluffing to get informants to confirm information. They even outright lie, telling one person's wife that their questioning is for her husband's own good. She and they knew that wasn't the case and she called them on it. Both of them draw conclusions very quickly, and while they may be logical and wise conclusions, they're still hastily made. As their editor pointed out, they need facts; the newspaper can't simply print deductions made by reporters based on people's refusals to speak.
Yet overall, these two reporters go far beyond the requirements of the profession (or perhaps just set a standard for the rest of us) in the way they "serve as an independent monitor of power" - yet another essential element of journalism by K&R's standards. In the end they've got more going for them than strikes against them... and one can't forget the fact that they broke one of the biggest stories in journalism's history.
Oh, and everything else aside... the cinematography is really something, so I definitely recommend this film if you have an artistic eye!
Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein are flawlessly disciplined in the art of verification (the "essence" of journalism according to K&R). They track thousands of tips, leads, and names to break the Watergate story, following trails one would only expect Sherlock Holmes to find. Librarians and old acquaintances from social events become valuable sources of information. Woodward risks his own safety to meet with his informant, Deep Throat, who gives him specific instructions to keep their contact a secret, while Bernstein is unafraid of tarnishing his reputation by acting pushy if it means tracking down the truth. Together they sort through a year's worth of library records in search of one man's history to confirm that he did research on Senator Kennedy. Although many informants turn them away and the editor wants to kill the story, Bernstein recognizes that "this is a goddamn important story!" and perseveres.
We can also glean from this film the value of preparation. Woodward perpetually has a notepad ready and records even the minutest details in case he should need them later. When the two journalists visit informants at home, they arrive with background knowledge of names, professions, connections, and other relevant information. They never waste time on basic questions; this would be disrespectful of the people whose stories they cover and, especially in the midst of a scandal like this, would fail to get them through the door. Revealing that they have some knowledge prompts some people, such as Kenneth Dalhberg, whose $25,000 check ended up in one of the burglars' accounts, to reveal more information.
Woodward and Bernstein also show us the value of asking the right question. I often find myself going into interviews with a list of questions, thinking it may be a contrived conversation, but at least I'll have something to write about later. Woodward and Bernstein have a knack for choosing just the right question, often on the spot. Sometimes that question can even be the leverage that opens further discussion. "You're a lawyer," Woodward says to Markham in the courthouse. "If no one asked you to be here then why are you here?" Later, when a woman tells Bernstein "people sure are worried," he instantly responds, "which people?" The questions seems so logical and obvious coming from another reporter's mouth, yet I know in the same situation I would not say such a sensible thing.
But the heroes of the film are flawed journalists, too. They both persist in asking questions of informants who insist, often multiple times, that they have nothing to say. This appears to be good reporting until one considers the feelings of the people being questioned. They are uncomfortable and even afraid to reveal their knowledge. Which is more important, respecting the people you cover as you yourself would want to be respected, or serving the greater public by getting the story no matter the cost? K&R say a journalist's first responsibility is to the citizens, but does that eliminate the need for personal sensitivity? K&R also say that "practitioners have an obligation to exercise their personal conscience." It seems Woodward and Bernstein err on the side of insensitivity, as a coworker tells them "I don't have the taste for the jugular that you guys have."
Woodward and Bernstein are also guilty of listening in on phone conversations via a second line and bluffing to get informants to confirm information. They even outright lie, telling one person's wife that their questioning is for her husband's own good. She and they knew that wasn't the case and she called them on it. Both of them draw conclusions very quickly, and while they may be logical and wise conclusions, they're still hastily made. As their editor pointed out, they need facts; the newspaper can't simply print deductions made by reporters based on people's refusals to speak.
Yet overall, these two reporters go far beyond the requirements of the profession (or perhaps just set a standard for the rest of us) in the way they "serve as an independent monitor of power" - yet another essential element of journalism by K&R's standards. In the end they've got more going for them than strikes against them... and one can't forget the fact that they broke one of the biggest stories in journalism's history.
Oh, and everything else aside... the cinematography is really something, so I definitely recommend this film if you have an artistic eye!
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Ain't no Passim craze
When I first walked into Club Passim, located in a cobblestone back street of Harvard Square, I was skeptical. Sitting room only? Can this truly be a club? The Passim experience may not be your typical night on the town, but therein lies the charm of this established “folk music and cultural center.”
From its size, you’d think the place was a basement – not to mention the floor and one wall are made of bricks. But the atmosphere is anything but cold. Soft yellow lighting invites patrons to come and enjoy an evening of music and food together. Square tables and mismatched chairs, soon to be replaced, are arranged Tetris-style to accommodate the greatest number of guests possible.
If you want to sit at a table, buy your tickets in advance or get there early. You’ll be obliged to order at least $5 worth of food from Passim’s daytime alter ego and nighttime sidekick, Veggie Planet, whose menu is one hundred percent vegetarian. Entrees can be ordered on white rice, brown rice, or pizza dough.
Even carnivores will enjoy snacking on doughy garlic knots or fair trade brownies with regular or soy ice cream. If you’d rather just get a drink, there’s coffee and organic soda. Though it has traditionally been an alcohol-free setting, Passim recently started offering beer and wine to patrons at tables.
“It’s a nice service to offer,” said manager Matt Smith. “Of course we want to maintain the listening room atmosphere – there’s no open bar – but it helped keep the doors open when the economy fell apart.”
The listening room atmosphere is definitely still there. Passim isn’t just a place people go to see a show; it’s a place they go to be in community with one another. They often know the artists’ music from previous shows at the club since a lot of artists cycle through, playing one or two shows there each year.
There’s a connection between the address, the artists, and the audience that you don’t find in most venues. Singers take song requests from patrons and converse with the crowd as if they were old friends. And, in some way, they are. Passim has been a cultural crux for music lovers since 1958, when it was called Club 47. It makes a point of nurturing new artists from openers to headliners.
Even though the club panders to the folk folks, Smith said, “People shouldn’t be afraid of the word folk. They’ll be surprised if they come with an open mind toward something they wouldn’t normally experience.”
The blend of personalities and generations seated around the tables show Smith’s theory holds water. So, if you’re looking for a cozy, coffee-shop kind of setting some night, I encourage you to be open to the Passim experience, which you’ll find at 47 Palmer St. in Cambridge. You might be surprised.
From its size, you’d think the place was a basement – not to mention the floor and one wall are made of bricks. But the atmosphere is anything but cold. Soft yellow lighting invites patrons to come and enjoy an evening of music and food together. Square tables and mismatched chairs, soon to be replaced, are arranged Tetris-style to accommodate the greatest number of guests possible.
If you want to sit at a table, buy your tickets in advance or get there early. You’ll be obliged to order at least $5 worth of food from Passim’s daytime alter ego and nighttime sidekick, Veggie Planet, whose menu is one hundred percent vegetarian. Entrees can be ordered on white rice, brown rice, or pizza dough.
Even carnivores will enjoy snacking on doughy garlic knots or fair trade brownies with regular or soy ice cream. If you’d rather just get a drink, there’s coffee and organic soda. Though it has traditionally been an alcohol-free setting, Passim recently started offering beer and wine to patrons at tables.
“It’s a nice service to offer,” said manager Matt Smith. “Of course we want to maintain the listening room atmosphere – there’s no open bar – but it helped keep the doors open when the economy fell apart.”
The listening room atmosphere is definitely still there. Passim isn’t just a place people go to see a show; it’s a place they go to be in community with one another. They often know the artists’ music from previous shows at the club since a lot of artists cycle through, playing one or two shows there each year.
There’s a connection between the address, the artists, and the audience that you don’t find in most venues. Singers take song requests from patrons and converse with the crowd as if they were old friends. And, in some way, they are. Passim has been a cultural crux for music lovers since 1958, when it was called Club 47. It makes a point of nurturing new artists from openers to headliners.
Even though the club panders to the folk folks, Smith said, “People shouldn’t be afraid of the word folk. They’ll be surprised if they come with an open mind toward something they wouldn’t normally experience.”
The blend of personalities and generations seated around the tables show Smith’s theory holds water. So, if you’re looking for a cozy, coffee-shop kind of setting some night, I encourage you to be open to the Passim experience, which you’ll find at 47 Palmer St. in Cambridge. You might be surprised.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Sleeping at Last
How many bands do you know that can play close to an hour’s worth of music without touching a standard six-string guitar? Sleeping At Last can, and they do it well. Though it was more packed than at 12:30 on a weekday, the dark side of Lane was utterly silent while the three-and-a-half-man ensemble played last Friday night.
Singer Ryan O’Neal began the set with a ukulele in hand. Dan Perdue alternated between keys and bass, while stand-in drummer Aaron Mortenson kept the beat for his first ever live show with Sleeping At Last.
In spite of the absence of a guitar, the band achieved a sound reminiscent of the Fray or Coldplay. O’Neal explained after the show that his love for Hawaii inspired him to include the uke on the band’s third album, Storyboards, released Sept. 15. “It’s the most exciting instrument I’ve picked up since guitar,” he said.
The Wheaton, IL natives say they’ve “never been happier with a record.” They branched out with Storyboards, adding new instruments like banjo and mandolin to a more acoustic album than their two previous national releases. “It’s about the craft of songwriting,” said O’Neal. “We want to write music people can relate to.”
Sleeping at Last was joined by solo artist Jeremy Larson, who filled in the gaps where the band couldn’t cover all the needed instruments. Larson also opened the night with his own one-man, five-instrument set, looping tracks and building to a hypnotizing climax on each song.
In addition to guitar, drums and vocals, Larson incorporated violin and cello, two instruments he’d never played live before. “I learned to play them out of necessity,” he said. “I wanted strings on my album and didn’t know anyone who played.”
Larson ended up contributed strings to MuteMath’s most recent album, Armistice, and Eisley’s upcoming release. For him, making music is all about collaboration, so he contacted Sleeping at Last and asked if he could play strings for them. You can hear him on Storyboards track “Chandeliers.”
Larson’s work with the band led to them touring together. They spent two days in a car (three in Larson’s case) to arrive at Gordon and had a ten-hour drive to their next venue. “We really wanted to come here,” said Larson with a shrug.
Why? “Because you guys are awesome,” said O’Neal. “Super awesome.”
Singer Ryan O’Neal began the set with a ukulele in hand. Dan Perdue alternated between keys and bass, while stand-in drummer Aaron Mortenson kept the beat for his first ever live show with Sleeping At Last.
In spite of the absence of a guitar, the band achieved a sound reminiscent of the Fray or Coldplay. O’Neal explained after the show that his love for Hawaii inspired him to include the uke on the band’s third album, Storyboards, released Sept. 15. “It’s the most exciting instrument I’ve picked up since guitar,” he said.
The Wheaton, IL natives say they’ve “never been happier with a record.” They branched out with Storyboards, adding new instruments like banjo and mandolin to a more acoustic album than their two previous national releases. “It’s about the craft of songwriting,” said O’Neal. “We want to write music people can relate to.”
Sleeping at Last was joined by solo artist Jeremy Larson, who filled in the gaps where the band couldn’t cover all the needed instruments. Larson also opened the night with his own one-man, five-instrument set, looping tracks and building to a hypnotizing climax on each song.
In addition to guitar, drums and vocals, Larson incorporated violin and cello, two instruments he’d never played live before. “I learned to play them out of necessity,” he said. “I wanted strings on my album and didn’t know anyone who played.”
Larson ended up contributed strings to MuteMath’s most recent album, Armistice, and Eisley’s upcoming release. For him, making music is all about collaboration, so he contacted Sleeping at Last and asked if he could play strings for them. You can hear him on Storyboards track “Chandeliers.”
Larson’s work with the band led to them touring together. They spent two days in a car (three in Larson’s case) to arrive at Gordon and had a ten-hour drive to their next venue. “We really wanted to come here,” said Larson with a shrug.
Why? “Because you guys are awesome,” said O’Neal. “Super awesome.”
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Civil writes
Consider the role of the media in the civil rights movement.
The media, especially television media, made civil rights the problem of people at home - people living in homogeneous sections of society and regions for whom segregation may not have been a legal reality. Not only did it illustrate the actions of those involved in the movement, it also demanded action from those who were not involved. By showing the individuals and incidents shaping the civil rights movement, the media handed other citizens the information they needed to decide who was right and who was wrong, thus enabling them to be responsible and self-governing Americans.
So let's discuss. How can we use the media for the same purpose today? Can the same media even be used? What are the wrongs in our society and how can we expose them? Is racism really gone, or do we as journalists - and moreover, as citizens - need to continue fighting racial injustices? Tell me what you think.
The media, especially television media, made civil rights the problem of people at home - people living in homogeneous sections of society and regions for whom segregation may not have been a legal reality. Not only did it illustrate the actions of those involved in the movement, it also demanded action from those who were not involved. By showing the individuals and incidents shaping the civil rights movement, the media handed other citizens the information they needed to decide who was right and who was wrong, thus enabling them to be responsible and self-governing Americans.
So let's discuss. How can we use the media for the same purpose today? Can the same media even be used? What are the wrongs in our society and how can we expose them? Is racism really gone, or do we as journalists - and moreover, as citizens - need to continue fighting racial injustices? Tell me what you think.
Monday, October 26, 2009
The Elements of Creative Writing
It’s not every day you see wordsmiths gathered in a science building. But then, it’s not every day you see chemists relishing the written word, either. The backwards “celebration of words and letters” took place at the Ken Olsen Science Center on Tuesday, October 20, when the national day on writing converged with national chemistry week.
“It’s not too many times we’ve been able to say, ‘hosted by the departments of chemistry and English,’” said Dwight Tshudy, associate professor of chemistry. At “Of Poetry and Periodic Tables,” students and faculty read their original poetry and CoNTeST entries – patchwork stories, poems and proverbs constructed from only the letters found in the periodic table.
From sophomore Ariel Guiguizian’s story about “BAtBOY Y FISH LaDy” to freshman Joshua Meister’s “PErIODIC PUN” on Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle, CoNTeST entries revealed a wealth of wit on the writers’ parts and even greater wealths of patience.
CoNTeST winner Rachel Otto’s “AlAs, THe CHOICe” was the longest entry. While the rest of us were taking quad finals, Otto (’12) was piecing together a full-page parody of Hamlet’s famous “to be or not to be” soliloquy.
“I actually got the idea one day when I was… debating whether or not to go to chemistry class,” said Otto. Although she almost gave up when she realized the periodic table would not allow her to spell “or,” Otto pressed on, hoping to win first prize: a periodic table blanket.
“I was getting kind of cold at night because I hadn’t brought extra blankets,” she admitted. Ulterior motives aside, Otto said she welcomed the chance to combine creativity with classic literature under the CoNTeST’s constraints.
Irv Levy, professor of chemistry and computer science, agreed with Otto: the blanket is perfect for “protecting yourself from the elements with the elements.” Judges waited until mole day, or 10/23 – thus named because the scientific quantity of a mole is 6.022 times 1023 – to declare Otto the winner.
“I take my hat – no, I take my whole head off to her,” said one judge.
Susanna Sousa’s “TReAsURe MoUNTaIN” took second prize, a 550-piece periodic table jigsaw puzzle. Guiguizian and Meister earned honorable mentions along with junior Elise Nedzweckas and senior Rachel Shirron.
“It’s not too many times we’ve been able to say, ‘hosted by the departments of chemistry and English,’” said Dwight Tshudy, associate professor of chemistry. At “Of Poetry and Periodic Tables,” students and faculty read their original poetry and CoNTeST entries – patchwork stories, poems and proverbs constructed from only the letters found in the periodic table.
From sophomore Ariel Guiguizian’s story about “BAtBOY Y FISH LaDy” to freshman Joshua Meister’s “PErIODIC PUN” on Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle, CoNTeST entries revealed a wealth of wit on the writers’ parts and even greater wealths of patience.
CoNTeST winner Rachel Otto’s “AlAs, THe CHOICe” was the longest entry. While the rest of us were taking quad finals, Otto (’12) was piecing together a full-page parody of Hamlet’s famous “to be or not to be” soliloquy.
“I actually got the idea one day when I was… debating whether or not to go to chemistry class,” said Otto. Although she almost gave up when she realized the periodic table would not allow her to spell “or,” Otto pressed on, hoping to win first prize: a periodic table blanket.
“I was getting kind of cold at night because I hadn’t brought extra blankets,” she admitted. Ulterior motives aside, Otto said she welcomed the chance to combine creativity with classic literature under the CoNTeST’s constraints.
Irv Levy, professor of chemistry and computer science, agreed with Otto: the blanket is perfect for “protecting yourself from the elements with the elements.” Judges waited until mole day, or 10/23 – thus named because the scientific quantity of a mole is 6.022 times 1023 – to declare Otto the winner.
“I take my hat – no, I take my whole head off to her,” said one judge.
Susanna Sousa’s “TReAsURe MoUNTaIN” took second prize, a 550-piece periodic table jigsaw puzzle. Guiguizian and Meister earned honorable mentions along with junior Elise Nedzweckas and senior Rachel Shirron.
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