Article by Ethan Cutler; photos by Caroline Li
Juan Mijares is not in it for the money. Granted, most people looking to make money don’t go into the violin-making business in the first place. But even within the profession, there are those who maximize their profit by churning out instruments as often as possible, and then there are violin-makers like Juan—those who earn the noble title of “luthier.”
Article by Drew Turley; art by Hannah Seabright
Major efforts to diversify CC as an institution started after Tiefenthaler joined us in 2011. After she heard the cry for more diversity, she started making changes. On the Diversity page of CC’s website, we report that in 2004, 14.3 percent of students identified as American ethnic minorities. In 2014, 24.7 percent of students identified as American ethnic minorities. In 2004, 1.7 percent of students were international. And again that figure rose to 6.4 percent in 2014. While these changes indicate institutional efforts to diversify CC, we certainly have plenty of room to grow. We are still an overwhelmingly white institution.
Article by Andrew Braverman; art by Anna Cain
The simulation hypothesis, long present in the annals of science fiction, took on a degree of academic credibility in 2003, when Oxford philosopher, Nick Bostrom, wrote a paper suggesting that members of an advanced civilization with tremendous computing power may well decide to run simulations of their ancestors.
Article by Jackson Truesdale
I had to—wanted to—write an article. If I was to write, I wanted to go full-hog, chasing interviews and information. The first idea: Why is Colorado College expanding? CC is building out into the surrounding neighborhood. I could interview students, administrators, faculty and campus-neighboring residents. It would be great. But I also felt like turning inward, looking at CC and how the institution affects our lives as students. I would try to learn how the CC admission process affects socioeconomic diversity in the student body. Students informally commented on the admission process, on the odious “Admissions,” with general distrust and dissatisfaction. “CC sucks. They’re up to no good.”
Article by Nathan Makela; art by Caroline Li
How do you judge the value of a professor? Is it how engaging they are? Their prestige? Maybe it’s their work outside of the classroom or their ability to connect with their students. Maybe it’s if they make you laugh. But have you ever considered how much your professors get paid?
Article by Abe Mamet; art by Alayna Altman
When I was nine, my eyes opened. Or rather, my iPod’s pre-set alarm clock woke me up from a bad nap. Just in time for dinner, yet my thoughts were ripped quickly and terrifyingly from my rumbling stomach as I realized I’d mistakenly queued my brother’s jazz playlist as my alarm instead of my AC/DC collection. What woke me, then, was not Bon Scott’s wailing on “Highway to Hell,” but the hellfire and brimstone erupting from a foreign baritone sax opening Charles Mingus’s “Moanin’.” Soon, more than my eyes opened. I realized that the music flooding my tiny closet of a room was different than any other music I’d ever heard. This song, I quickly realized, was Mingus’s tribute to freedom, and class was in session.
Article by Maggie O’Brien; photos courtesy of CC Special Collections
“Colorado College does have some skeletons in its closets,” begins former Colorado College Professor of History, Anne Hyde, in her 2005 article published in the Southwest Studies newsletter la Tertulia. “And like many other institutions in the United States, some of its skeletons were the remains of Native American people.”
Article by Rebecca Twinney; art by Caroline Li and Jackson Truesdale
About two miles into the drive up Pikes Peak, there’s an official-looking brown highway sign alerting drivers to the crossing of a looming, hulk-like figure. With legs as thick as its waist and feet larger than its head, it’s unmistakably the infamous Bigfoot.
Underneath the figure reads, “Due to sightings in the area of a creature resembling ‘big foot,’ this sign has been posted for your safety.”
Article by Anonymous; art by Isabel Auricho
Came to college a virgin. I didn’t stay that way for long. I started dating someone at the end of September, and we broke up when I went abroad junior year. Then I was in another relationship until this past February. I’ve essentially never been single in college. I’d never experienced “the hookup culture.” And now that I have, in this last semester at school, it’s easy to see why so many people hate it.
Usually, I would have written this days ago. And I did, actually. But here I am now, alone in the publications house on a Monday afternoon, holding up the entire publication process because there was a fairly embarrassing mistake in the one I drafted this weekend.
All photos by Leo Turpan
In 1964, Martin Luther King Jr. received an anonymous letter which began: “In view of your low-grade, abnormal personal behavior I will not dignify your name with either a Mr. or a Reverend or a Dr. And your last name calls to mind only the type of King such as King Henry the VIII and his countless acts of adultery and immoral conduct lower than that of a beast.” The letter was written by the first director of the FBI, J. Edgar Hoover.
I hate block breaks. I know that might sound crazy, but hear me out. I love CC, and the block plan, but I probably chose the wrong school. I crave routine, so seriously switching it up once a month kind of messes with me. I still get nervous on first Mondays.
What started as vague curiosity about the game (I’d come across a flyer in a corner of the Wooglin’s bulletin that read, “Play Go Here! The oldest Chinese board game……. All welcome! Fridays 5-9 p.m.”) turned to intrigue when I’d shown up alone to find an eclectic group of men hunched over boards, 18-to-60-year-old versions of high school chess fanatics.
In the rearview mirror, I saw blood spreading across the white of my left eye. A pretty scarlet—by now I was screaming, yelping maybe. And the pain was increasing. We were 8,000 feet above sea level, and as we gained elevation the pressure inside my terribly blocked sinuses increased as the atmospheric pressure decreased. In my panicking mind, there were two foreseeable outcomes: pressurized air would burst from my eye sockets in a spray of red goo, blinding me forever, or my skull would shatter.
I am a pudgy guy. It would be hard to picture me hiking up the side of a mountain in snow pants and a jacket, my inhaler safely in my pocket. But there I was, on a two-mile trek with an elevation gain of 2,000 vertical feet ascending Squaw Mountain, in Idaho Springs, Colorado, with a ranger from the Clear Creek district. Our destination was the Squaw Fire Lookout, a place I’d wanted to visit since I first discovered that these towers existed.
Even an unmoving edifice like Palmer Hall can be pulled into a new drama by someone else’s invention. Lukey Walden’s (‘17) Studio Art thesis show, “They! Them!! Here!!!” used the second floor landing and second floor of Palmer to display portraits they’d painted of transgender, queer and gender non-conforming individuals from the CC and Colorado Springs community. The title of each painting is the subject’s name, and a note reminds viewers to refer to each subject with “they” pronouns.