Audio/Visual- The Living Room of the Campus

Final Profile Piece- The Living Room of the Campus

Intended publication: The Index

The Living Room of the Campus

If you were to follow the red brick paved road of Academy St, turn up the fork and drive past the fork on the left-hand side of the road with the Kalamazoo College sign surrounded by blooming flowers and drive past Hoben Hall, you would see the impressive building standing right in front of you known as the Hicks Center. Like many of the buildings on the campus of Kalamazoo College, Hicks Center is a long rectangular building with a red brick façade, white windows and a grey roof. What distinguishes Hicks from the other buildings on campus however, is not the sleek black windows that cover the front of the building, but the four tall while columns that hold up a part of the roof that juts out in which a large white K symbol is placed directly in the middle. Underneath the K sign is the name Weimer K. Hicks. If you look on a map you can see that Hicks is strategically placed far back on campus, pass the quad and closer to Lovell Street.

As a building that houses the Mail Center, Cafeteria or Dining Hall, Student Resource Center, security and Student Development offices, organization rooms and a Union Desk, at any given time during business hours there is a constant stream of students, faculty, administrators and professionals going in and out of the building, and the inside functions well for lots of movement. When you walk passed the tall black windows and into the building, it isn’t difficult to be amazed by the open design of the internal structure of the building. Every level is an open space. You could stand on the main floor of the atrium and only have to look down to see the Mail Center on the bottom floor, or look up to view students entering the Dining Hall. However, while there is a constant flow of activity within, the impression that many K students give when describing Hicks is that it is a place for them to escape the craziness of an academy life, and just wind down by grabbing a sandwich at Jazzman’s café, listening to music being played by Union Desk attendants over the loud speakers, play pool in the game room or socialize with friends in the movie room. When K students give tours of the campus and they make a stop in Hicks they often speak of it as the “living room” of the campus. Students go to Hicks to eat, sleep, do homework and hang out or talk with friends, all of the key components of a college student’s daily existence.

The Hick Center was named after Weimer K. Hicks, who served as President of Kalamazoo College (from 1953-1971) for eighteen years. Hicks’s legacy to the school in which he served as President comes from the fact that he was very instrumental in the development of the “K” plan as a permanent fixture within the school-wide curriculum. The “K” plan continues to be extremely important and serves as the groundwork for a true liberal arts education at the college. The original “K” plan created by Hicks stressed that students gain more awareness of the world around them by spending a term doing an internship and at least more than one term studying abroad. When entering Kalamazoo College students first matriculate as first-years, they are bombarded with symbols of the successes of the “K” plan, study abroad or study away testimonies, service learning projects or internships that previous students have participated in, and an introduction to the Senior Individualized Thesis (SIP) project that they will have to stress about in three years even before being made fully aware of what it actually is. As described on the Kalamazoo College website, the “K” plan is specifically geared towards getting the full breath of a liberal arts education and is highly individualized for each student in order for them to become more self aware of the world around and them and envision their own possibilities for becoming an enlightened person by the time they graduate. Hicks’s implementing of the “K” plan forever changed Kalamazoo College’s reputation as an undergraduate institution to one that heavily focused on integrating an international education into the curriculum. It is no surprise that the top academic administrator whose namesake Hicks is named after was the pioneer who heralded in the introduction of the “K” plan.

On any day during the week you can walk past the meeting rooms on the second floor of the building and observe one of the many student organizations meeting. Student Commission, Student Activities and the Index all have permanent offices in Hicks. On Tuesday’s an informational movie or documentary is shown via a partnership with one of the student organizations or student advocacy groups who want people on campus to engage in issues or support a cause. Recently, the gay alliance group Kaleidoscope played the iconic movie depicting drag ball culture Paris is Burning to eager audiences. Some days free food is given out at indoor music concerts, or there are free massage days or public speakers and important dinners or events are often held in the banquet hall. Overall, you could say that Hicks’s multiple functions as a student center makes it just as much as a part of the “K” plan as the academic curriculums or study abroad programs. Of all the buildings on campus, Hicks is definitely a liberal space.  

The Events of October Response

As I stated before in class I spent the majority of my time reading this book while I was taking a trip out of the state, and found it so surreal that I was reading a book written by an author who was once my professor about events that have happened on my campus years ago. For one thing, I thought that Gail's descriptions of K's campus (even as she was writing from the perspective of the late 90s early 2000s time period) were so obviously spot on. That said, this book was insanely difficult to read because of its subject matter. While I have heard of the events of the murder-suicide on campus, I never got all the details from one source. Like we talked about in class, I was always reminded that Gail knew more about the murder-suicide than anybody else. I was really impressed by her reporting and interviewing of so many sources.

Profile Piece- Revision

Intended publication: The Index 

A Family Girl

“I’m an open book. There is no such thing as getting too personal,”

Mele says to me as she reassures my fears about being biased by writing about her as a friend. It becomes clear that there isn’t any personal topic from her life story that is off limits to talk about. It’s close to midnight and we are sitting in her freshman dorm room, her roommate absent and at the library, and her laptop rests on her desk and there is a webpage opened to her Facebook profile. She has thirty-two notifications that haven’t been checked yet.  Mele sits cross-legged, comfortable on a pink beanbag chair, and above her is a series of picture collages. Some show the faces many brown skinned, dark haired people smiling happily into the camera, hugging each other. I assume that the pictures are snapshots of large family gatherings. 

A large poster of Tupac floats on the wall right above the pillows on her bed, surrounded by smaller pictures, swirly designs and symbols that look like a shrine. She’s a bonafide Cali girl, for sure. We talk animatedly about a hundred different things, what new techniques is she learning in her Documentary Film class, whether or not we can get a big group together to walk to a club in downtown Kalamazoo that caters to the under-21 crowd on Thursdays, before we she begins talking about her family.

Mele Makalo is the youngest of six children, and grew up having to navigate the intricate social dynamic of being the baby amongst four older brothers and a sister. The most important parts of her life, faith, family, education and ethnic culture constitute parts of her identity.

 “All my identities are interrelated. Because I value my culture I value my faith, because I value my faith I value my family, because I value my family I value my education,” she notes.

Mele is from a low-income community in Ingleside California, and a Mormon, but prefers to be called a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I assume because of the negative connotations associated with being Mormon, like stereotypes of polygamy and religious fundamentalism. She’s the first in her family to attend a four-year college, and her parents emigrated from Tonga a little over 30 years ago, and made a home for her family in the U.S. Situated in the South Pacific Ocean, Tonga is a chain of over a hundred islands and rests in between New Zealand and Hawaii. Also, its no surprise that a country which provides free and mandatory education for its citizens and scholarships for foreign secondary and post-secondary study abroad and whose economy is dependant upon remittances from the large population of diaspora living in Australia, New Zealand and the United States boasts over a 98% literacy rate.

According to Mele, woman hold high social status relative to men. One important traditional cultural practice gives the oldest sister in a family the power to name the future children of her younger siblings. Being the oldest sister means upholding a strong feminine presence within the extended family, as well. In Tongan tradition the Fahu is the oldest sister of your father, and is often blessed with the gift of gratitude from the family at every event, weddings, funerals and other celebrations. When I asked about her fraternal aunt, Mele’s face lights up,

“She is praised. Big stuff! She’s really important.”

When I ask whether her oldest sister will be the Fahu of her immediate family, she looks uncertain.

“We don’t practice Fahu because my father believes all family is important.”

I first met Mele at a Black Student Organization meeting at the beginning of the Fall term, and I introduced myself because I wanted to get to know the new fresh faces of diversity at Kalamazoo College. I, like many others probably couldn't quite place her ethnicity before she told me she was Tongan. I once made the mistake of referring to her as Polynesian to another student, and was promptly chastised for the slight misrepresentation of her cultural identity. Mele has one of those unique voices that can immediately command your attention. She doesn’t speak softly for anyone’s delicate sensibilities, because she keeps it real. She doesn’t even need to open her mouth for others to be intimidated in her presence. Often, when I ask other students on campus to talk to me about their first impressions of Mele they all sing the same tune of,

 “She is so cool!” While still a first year, she travels in and out of culture cliques and social circles with ease, displaying a maturity and openness to frank discussions about nearly anything with members of her own class standing and seniors alike. I once overheard someone say that it’s easy for Mele to become friends with everyone on this campus because she is literally the only one of her kind around on a majority white campus.

Mele says that she gets that inherent realness from her mother, Olga.

“My mom is very blunt, I learned how to be real from her.” Although Mele confesses that she didn’t inherit her mother’s culinary skills.

“My mom, she’s a bomb cook too, she puts it down! I think that's my downfall. Because she’s known around the way as a bomb cooker, and I don’t have those skills. I guess I’m known for my smarts.”

Mele’s voice changes to a warmer tone when the conversation travels to talking about her parents.

“My dad is a huge reason why I work as hard as I do.” She gets her work ethic from her parents, and grew up learning not the make the same mistakes of her older brothers and sister.

“My siblings were always the ones f’ing up.” She expresses with a laugh.

“Growing up, we only had one car,” she reveals over the phone almost a week later after her first time opening up to me about her family.

“My dad, my whole life has always held two full time jobs. My parents never told us how we were struggling financially and they were frustrated but always found a way to pay the bills.”

Mele’s dad Siosaia is 59 years old and worked at a warehouse to support the family while Olga was a stay at home mother and wife, who knitted quilts in her spare time to earn extra money. Mele’s mother sacrificed a social life to take care of her family, and her dad sacrificed being close to his side of the family to move to California so that Olga could be around her family.

A mind socialized by Western gender traditions and social codes would take a little more time to understand the complexity of the relationship between her mother and father.

“Tongan culture is weird like that. Women are valued, and that is different from other cultures.” I thought back to our first conversation, when Mele mused how as a girl she wasn’t allowed to hang around boys out of respect for the Tongan tradition of Faka’Apa'Apa, which literally means respect between genders.

Growing up “felt weird because it was hard to find someone to chill with,” she remarks. So she built a strong interpersonal relationship with her mother. In the course of our short conversation I become immediately aware that Mele is fiercely protective of her family. That same insight lead me to believe that when Mele talks about family, she isn’t just referring to her blood relations but to her interpersonal relationships on campus with friends. In my many social interactions with Mele, I have often noticed that when any event, celebration or personal issue comes up, Mele is often the first to volunteer, offer to give or extend a helping hand.

She once attended my twenty-second birthday party at an expensive restaurant, even though she couldn’t afford to go. Like many others, I can’t help but feel that I am a part of Mele’s multiple extended family that crosses state lines and color or culture boundaries in the short time that I’ve known her.   

“I have a very tough shell, but deep inside I have a very big heart for others, I put my family first. I don’t get butt hurt by things, but if you cross my family or my loved ones then it's a wrap.”

You could call Mele’s descriptions of her family traditions and customs a culture in its own right. You could even see her as one of those unique people who can find family virtually anywhere, and often proves herself time and again by sticking up for them. 

CYOA- "The French Fry Connection"

For our CYOA, in anticipation of our next assignment, we decided to find an example of explanatory narrative. We considered choosing the Ted Conover article, but while we recommend everyone read that anyway at their leisure, we instead opted for Richard Read's Pulitzer Prize-winning four-part article "The French Fry Connection," which follows a shipment of McDonalds french fries from potato crop to preparation in McDonalds locations in Asia, and explores the Asian economic crisis through this lens. This narrative was originally published in The Oregonian in four parts over the course of four issues in 1998. The first part can be found here, at the University of Chicago Press website; each subsequent part is linked at the bottom of each page. As you read, we urge you to consider the following questions:

1. How effective is this as an explanatory/enterprise-type narrative?
2. How does Read develop the relationship between the Pacific Northwest farmers and Asian business partners in his narrative?
3. Did this capture your attention as a reader? Could you follow the narrative with your current level of familiarity with the subject matter?
4. After reading this, have you taken away more knowledge of the world economy? Did the subject matter explored in this narrative change your understanding of the intricacies of business relationships?

Happy reading! Tanj and Saskia

Profile Process Piece

I knew from the get go that I was stepping out of my comfort zone by writing this profile. I've never written anything like a profile before, so I think I was intimidated by the task. I didn't know where to start, really. How do I capture Mele in action? Do I follow her around and take notes or just observe her in social situations? I knew had so much material from her from our interviews that I wanted to add to the profile, but wasn't sure how to fill in those gaps between quotes.

I wound up waiting until the last minute to finish this, and called it a day. So that's why I think the piece itself began to look like an interview write-up (like Marin said) rather than a profile.

Profile Piece (rough draft)

Here is the VERY rough draft of my profile piece. I'm positive that I still have a lot of work to do, and am welcoming feedback from everyone. Not exactly sure which publication I would want this to be published too, but I'm sure I will figure that out in the revision process as well.  

“I’m an open book. There is no such thing as getting too personal,”

Mele says to me as she reassures my fears about being biased by writing about her as a friend. It becomes clear that there isn’t any personal topic from her life story that is off limits to talk about. It’s close to midnight and we are sitting in her roommate-less freshman dorm room, her laptop rests on her desk and there is a webpage opened to her Facebook profile. She has thirty-two notifications that haven’t been checked yet.  Mele sits cross-legged, comfortable on a pink beanbag chair, and above her is a series of picture collages. Some show the faces many brown skinned, dark haired people smiling happily into the camera, hugging each other. I assume that the pictures are snapshots of large family gatherings. 

A large poster of Tupac floats on the wall right above the pillows on her bed, surrounded by smaller pictures, swirly designs and symbols that look like a shrine. She’s a bonafide Cali girl, for sure. We talk animatedly about a hundred different things, what new techniques is she learning in her Documentary Film class, whether or not we can get a big group together to walk to a club in downtown Kalamazoo that caters to the under-21 crowd on Thursdays, before we she begins talking about her family.

Mele Makalo is the youngest of six children, and grew up having to navigate the intricate social dynamic of being the baby amongst four older brothers and a sister. The most important parts of her life, faith, family, education and ethnic culture constitute parts of her identity.

 “All my identities are interrelated. Because I value my culture I value my faith, because I value my faith I value my family, because I value my family I value my education,” she notes.

Mele is from a low-income community in Ingleside California, and a Mormon, but prefers to be called a member of the LDS, I assume because of the negative connotations associated with being Mormon. She’s the first in her family to attend a four-year college, and her parents emigrated from Tonga a little over 30 years ago, and made a home for her family in the U.S. Situated in the South Pacific Ocean, Tonga is a chain of over a hundred islands and rests in between New Zealand and Hawaii. Also, its no surprise that a country which provides free and mandatory education for its citizens and scholarships for foreign secondary and post-secondary study abroad and whose economy is dependant upon remittances from the large population of diaspora living in Australia, New Zealand and the United States boasts over a 98% literacy rate.

According to Mele, woman hold high social status relative to men. One important traditional cultural practice gives the oldest sister in a family the power to name the future children of her younger siblings. Being the oldest sister means upholding a strong feminine presence within the extended family, as well. In Tongan tradition the Fahu is the oldest sister of your father, and is often blessed with the gift of gratitude from the family at every event, weddings, funerals and other celebrations. When I asked about her fraternal aunt, Mele’s face lights up,

“she is praised. Big stuff! She’s really important.”

When I ask whether her oldest sister will be the Fahu of her immediate family, she looks uncertain.

“We don’t practice Fahu because my father believes all family is important.”

I first met Mele at a Black Student Organization meeting at the beginning of the Fall term, and I introduced myself because I wanted to get to know the new fresh faces of diversity at Kalamazoo College. I, like many others probably couldn't quite place her ethnicity before she told me she was Tongan. I once made the mistake of referring to her as Polynesian to another student, and was promptly chastised for the slight misrepresentation of her cultural identity. Mele has one of those unique voices that can immediately command your attention. She doesn’t speak softly for anyone’s delicate sensibilities, because she keeps it real. She doesn’t even need to open her mouth for others to be intimidated in her presence. She says that she gets that inherent realness from her mother, Olga.

“My mom is very blunt, I learned how to be real from her.” Although Mele confesses that she didn’t inherit her mother’s culinary skills.

“My mom, she’s a bomb cook too, she puts it down! I think that's my downfall. Because she’s known around the way as a bomb cooker, and I don’t have those skills. I guess I’m known for my smarts.”

Mele’s voice changes to a warmer tone when the conversation travels to talking about her parents.

“My dad is a huge reason why I work as hard as I do.” She gets her work ethic from her parents, and grew up learning not the make the same mistakes of her older brothers and sister.

“My siblings were always the ones f’ing up.” She expresses with a laugh.

“Growing up, we only had one car,” she reveals over the phone almost a week later after her first time opening up to me about her family. “My dad, my whole life has always held two full time jobs. My parents never told us how we were struggling financially and they were frustrated but always found a way to pay the bills.”

Mele’s dad Siosaia is 59 years old and worked at a warehouse to support the family while Olga was a stay at home mother and wife, who knitted quilts in her spare time to earn extra money.

A mind socialized by Western gender traditions and social codes would take a little more time to understand the complexity of the relationship between her mother and father.

“Tongan culture is weird like that. Women are valued, and that is different from other cultures.” I thought back to our first conversation, when Mele mused how as a girl she wasn’t allowed to hang around boys out of respect for the Tongan tradition of Faka’Apa'Apa, which literally means respect between genders.

Growing up “felt weird because it was hard to find someone to chill with,” she remarks. So she built a strong interpersonal relationship with her mother.

“My mom was my best friend from late elementary school years, and I was her best friend too.”

Mele’s mother sacrificed a social life to take care of her family, and her dad sacrificed being close to his side of the family to move to California so that Olga could be around her family. In the course of our short conversation I become immediately aware that Mele is fiercely protective of her family.

“I have a very tough shell, but deep inside I have a very big heart for others, I put my family first,” she says to me.

“I don’t get butt hurt by things, but if you cross my family or my loved ones then it's a wrap.”

You could call Mele’s descriptions of her family traditions and customs a culture in its own right.

“On a Sunday or Monday we have this thing called family home evenings, it comes from the LDS tradition. Because the encourages for LDS members to have family meetings, and we would catch up on family, what we can do as a family or how we can strengthen our bond as a family.”