The remodel includes the addition of five locks to each stall so that patrons may break them at their leisure, empty liquor bottles in the urinal, and the long-overdue removal of the soap dispenser, which no one was using anyways, all to give it that classic Brick Street feel that keeps guests coming back.
The warm scent of chicken, dumplings and other homemade cuisine hung over the crowd of students packed into the Armstrong Student Center’s Fritz Pavilion. The aroma wound its way through the numerous booths set up throughout the room, wrapping itself around brightly colored paper decorations and ornate ceremonial garb.
There was a small gap between the floor and the edge of the back curtain on the stage of Leonard Theatre in Peabody Hall. Just a few minutes before 7 p.m., a line of heels paraded from one side of the stage to the other, stiletto clicks ringing clearly through the theatre.
Long, black capes, pointy hats and wands dashed every which way in a hurry to emerge victorious. The whistle of a flute filled the air and magic filled the room. The third-annual Triwizard Tournament was in session, and Miami University’s muggles ran around Armstrong Student Center in celebration.
Imagine a silent, patient audience, partially comprised of students required to attend an event for a class and partially of eager LGBTQ+ community members ready to “get their life.” Now imagine that silence interrupted by three powerful words sung by Teyana Taylor.
In the summer of 1964, hundreds of students gathered on what is now Miami University’s Western Campus to learn how to register African American voters in the South, specifically Mississippi. Among them was retired Miami philosophy professor Rick Momeyer. Arrested three times, indicted by a grand jury and assaulted with various weapons in the South, Momeyer is an expert on Freedom Summer and its significance. “If you don’t know black history, you don’t know American history,” Momeyer said. “It’s not a separate history.”
Around three years ago, I committed to Miami University as an education major. I had attended Make it Miami, surrounded by lines of chattering high school students — red lanyards with name-tags hung about their necks, accompanied by anxious parents asking countless questions. It didn’t occur to me at the time that I would want to change my major before I had even gone to my first class.
All photos courtesy of Annie Lalonde
The two-part, four-hour season finale of “90 Day Fiancé” aired last week. The episodes marked an end to the show’s seventh season, which was criticized by fans as being “the most disappointing yet.” Though it pains me to say this as one of the show’s biggest fans, having watched it since before Danielle was trying, then not trying, then trying again to get Mohamed deported, I agree. I also think it’s time for TLC to consider cancelling the trainwreck of a show.
I saw “Knives Out” five times over J-term. I admit, although I love a classic whodunit movie, I was attracted by the film’s amazing cast the first time I saw it with my mom. A movie starring Jamie Lee Curtis, Katherine Langford, Daniel Craig and Chris Evans felt like exactly what I needed.
The Netflix rom-com sequel, “To All The Boys: P.S. I Still Love You,” was released on Feb. 12, just in time for Valentine’s Day. Since the first movie, 2018’s “To All The Boys I Loved Before,” received good reviews and is based off of a three-part book series, it wasn’t surprising when Netflix announced plans to make a sequel. And I honestly liked the first movie – Lana Condor and Noah Centineo had amazing chemistry.
Over a decade ago, Paramore frontwoman Hayley Williams sung of “ripping wings off of butterflies” underneath a cascade of rose petals. But long gone are the days of “Brick by Boring Brick” and its emo-fairytale music video. We’ve moved past MTV premieres and the ever-angsty Vans Warped Tour rock music festival – and even Paramore has moved through quite a few iterations of its lineup. The butterflies aren’t wingless anymore. And Williams has, in fact, become the butterfly.
I wasn’t ready for the end of NBC’s hit series “The Good Place.” I mean, when my housemate told me the title for the series finale was “Whenever You’re Ready,” I started crying, knowing what was in store.
I love Doja Cat. A lot. I find myself not wanting to listen to anything else at any given time. Whether it be walking home from class or crafting the playlist for my shower concerts, she is the only thing I gravitate toward. I’m obsessed, and I love when you can feel yourself growing obsessed with a new artist. You listen to every song on every album. You watch any interview or performance you can possibly find on YouTube. It’s a great feeling.
“I promise you I didn’t do this on purpose.” Sophomore psychology major and independent musician Lyric Rains-Bury, also known mononymously as Lyric, says to me in reference to his outfit — a red-tinted shirt plastered with a baby picture of himself with his name on the sleeves. “I really just wanted to match with the rest of the red vibe I was feeling today,” he said. He also makes a point to call out how his anime-decorated walls are “weird,” and how I should divert my attention elsewhere. My eyes jumped to an endless mound of caffeinated beverages that seemed to have accumulated on the floor. As braggadocious and larger-than-life as Lyric presents himself in both his fashion choices and music stylings, he could not be more different in person.
Hunched over and focused on painting, students spilled into Armstrong Pavilions A & B to paint mugs last Tuesday night. The event, put on by Miami Activities and Programming (MAP) and Uptown pottery painting shop You’re Fired!, had a line of students waiting out the door to scan their IDs to get in.
What most obviously separates t’ai chi from other martial arts is the speed. “When you look, it’s slow, but when you learn, it’s difficult,” Xing said. Xing teaches two sections of Beginning T’ai Chi, listed under KNH 120T. This is his last semester in Oxford before he returns to China to continue teaching and studying Chinese martial arts as national traditional sports.
Sophomore Vedika Gupta isn’t sure what age she’s turning this year. The marketing major from India is a leapling, meaning her birthday falls on February 29, a date that only occurs every four years. “Technically I’m turning five, but also 20,” Gupta said. “So I think I’m turning five and 20.” Although she isn’t sure how to describe her age, Gupta finds joy and takes pride in her leapling status.
Leading up to their first tournament of the spring semester, the players on Miami University’s Quidditch team had only one thought: They had to beat Michigan. This would be their first time playing the University of Michigan since falling to them in the semifinals of the Great Lakes regional competition last fall. This time, they’d be playing on home turf.
Buried deep beneath Miami University’s pristine quads and beautiful buildings, a hidden network of tunnels criss-crosses the campus. Some of these passages, like the one underneath the sidewalk that runs alongside Bell Tower Commons, are visible to students who walk above. However, this tunnel system is far more extensive than what one can see above ground — approximately five miles of tunnels connect the various buildings on the mile square.