CHARGED-UP RESULTS

Q: What inspired you to create To See The Sky, such a unique fantasy story? A: Well, I have always loved stories that play around with the concept of freedom, whether this be mental, physical or emotional. So I thought to myself, how would I create a story where multiple versions of freedom could be challenged? Thus, I created Llanka, a small country where the Melawa are unable to leave. I also have always liked the idea of rainfall being a narrative core to any of the stories I have created in the past so I wanted to expand on that. There are many different natures to the rain than meets the eye that I have yet to show but eventually I will get there. Q: What was your creative process like while drafting? A: So whenever the idea of creating something comes to mind, I like to start drawing! Whether these are very detailed character concepts or just scribbles with vague descriptions, I like getting the ideas out there so that it manifests in the world if even just for a moment. It inspires me to give the doodles a story and from then on I just keep going! Q: Do you have any writers you look up to or see as role models? A: My three favorites are easily Yoko Taro, Inio Asano and Haruko Ichikiawa. They each have this weird and unique way about creating their stories that emotionally impacted me in a way I did not feel was possible. In fact, Yoko Taro is one of the core reasons why my end goal is to become a Narrative designer/Creative Director for video games in the first place! The way he uses games to further immerse the audience deeper into the overall narrative is genius. This is mainly seen in my favorite game, NieR: Automata. As for Inio Asano and Haruko Ichikawa, they are both mangaka who have such deep and depressing thematic cores surrounding their stories that I can’t help but love. Whether it is the sacrifice that comes with change in Houseki no Kuni(Ichikawa) or the angsty coming of age story amidst a deeply flawed and often painful reality seen in Oyasumi Punpun(Asano). Both resonate with me deeply and going on with my life I often think a lot about the messages seen in both of these stories. Q: Did you have any ideas for To See The Sky that didn't work out? A: I wanted to showcase a bit more of the tribes and lifestyles of those around the 3 different rings. But there is just so much to work with in some 9-10 issues that I simply won’t have enough time to cover all of them. That doesn’t mean I won’t show them off more in the future seeing as “Tales Of Llanka” is planned to be a collection of short-ish stories to build up the world and culture. Q: What elements of the world of Lanka were the hardest to build? Which were your favorite? A: Without a doubt it’s creating a society that is forced to live within a small area that is constantly plagued with perpetual downpour, creatures from the abyss and unpredictable weather that makes life living quite a daring task. There is also creating the magic system which I have yet to showcase yet in the story but it is both simple and confusing but I hope to show it off in a way that is interesting! My favorite element of the world of Llanka is without a doubt, the various tribes that live within Llanka. Each has their own role to play with some being more important than others, there are certain exceptions where people can switch tribes but that is yet to be seen! Q: What are your goals with To See The Sky? A: Well I don’t have too much time to write all I want to do with the story but my goal is without a doubt to build the foundation of the world! Seneca is only just a fragment of what I have planned out but I really want to flesh out and grow the world through her eyes. Eventually, when I finish I will branch off the story to focus on the main plot of Llanka but for now this is just a sneak peek for what’s going to come in the next years! Q: If you had to give one piece of advice to any beginner writer, what would you say? A: Oh that’s a hard one, mainly since I consider myself a beginner writer myself! I haven’t done much so far but I think one of the most important things one can do is just put yourself out there. I’m not 100% sure how “To See The Sky” is going to go or if it will even end in a good way since it’s my first ongoing and official story. However, I feel it is important that I do it regardless of anything. How am I going to get better if I don’t mess up every now and then, right? One of the biggest fears writers have going into making anything creative is “Is this good? Will people enjoy this?” But I think the most important part is, do you enjoy it? Regardless of anything? You have to write for yourself first and foremost. Otherwise, what’s the point! Joshua Lozano

SPOILERS AHEAD If you’ve been in anime spaces for longer than five minutes, you’ve probably heard about JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure —the meme-fueled, genre-defying and beautifully unhinged series that has been running since 1987. Hirohiko Araki’s magnum opus has influenced everything from modern shonen  to high fashion, proving that posing dramatically while discussing bloodlines is, in fact, peak storytelling. As a filmmaker and storyteller, JoJo’s  has impacted the way I think about character depth and narrative payoff. Every part is a self-contained yet interconnected saga that plays with genre, visual language and emotion in ways that mainstream media often avoids. But perhaps the most impressive thing about JoJo’s  is how, despite spanning generations, some character traits remain deeply embedded in the Joestar lineage. And today, I’m here to argue something that should be obvious but doesn’t get enough credit: Jolyne Cujoh is the true successor to Jonathan Joestar—not just in bloodline, but in spirit. Jonathan is the gentleman of the Joestar family, a man so honorable he could probably hold the door open for you while actively fighting a vampire. He’s noble, kind and selfless to a fault. On the surface, Jolyne seems to be the opposite—angsty, rebellious and flipping off her dad in a Florida prison, but at her core, she is the closest to Jonathan any JoJo has ever been. Like him, she never hesitates to fight for others, never compromises her sense of justice and willingly sacrifices herself to protect the people she loves. Jonathan meets his end stopping Dio, knowing he won’t live to see the future he fought for. Jolyne faces Pucci, aware that she’s walking into certain death just to make sure Emporio has a chance to survive. The first JoJo and the last JoJo in the original timeline share more than just a bloodline—they share the belief that true heroism isn’t about winning. It’s about making sure that, even if you fail, someone else gets to stand. And that’s why Jolyne Cujoh is the most Jonathan-like Joestar to ever exist. This kind of storytelling is what makes JoJo’s  so legendary. It isn’t just about fight scenes, bizarre abilities or the absurdity that has made it a staple in pop culture. It’s about legacy. The series itself is a testament to how powerful originality can be when a creator dares to push beyond conventions. That’s something I think about every time I sit down to write, plan or conceptualize a project. I have always wanted to create something that leaves a mark, something that people don’t just consume but feel. A piece of media that sits with them long after they’ve experienced it, changing the way they see the world, if only a little. Every great storyteller dreams of this. And yet, the hardest part isn’t having the dream—it’s figuring out how to make something that lasts. Before JoJo’s , I gravitated toward media that played with bold ideas. I’ve always admired projects that stand out, that don’t try to fit a mold but instead reshape the entire landscape of storytelling. I knew I wanted to do something like that, but I didn’t know what my version of it looked like. Then, I found JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure , and suddenly, everything clicked. JoJo’s  isn’t afraid to be original. Araki takes massive creative risks, and yet, no matter how wild things get, it all works because of the underlying emotional core. You can have characters with the most absurd abilities—a guy who fights with spaghetti, a sentient colony of ants, a literal rock human—and it still feels real because the characters themselves are deeply human. They love, they struggle and they grow. The emotions are raw and unapologetic. That’s what makes it great. The commitment to reinvention is another thing that makes JoJo’s  unlike anything else. Every part of the series resets the playing field—new protagonist, new setting, new stakes—but it never loses its identity. The DNA of JoJo’s  is consistent, no matter how much the surface changes. That is something I think about constantly when developing stories. Can I make something that is uniquely mine but still evolves? Can I create a project that carries my voice even if I tell completely different stories? Then there’s the sheer confidence of it all. JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure  is not a series that second-guesses itself. It is dramatic, absurd, deeply emotional and unafraid of being too much. That kind of fearlessness is what I want to bring into my work. It’s easy to get caught up in doubts—will people like this, will this work, is this idea too weird? The greatest stories come from people who commit to their vision fully. Araki’s ability to just go for it has pushed me to do the same. This is especially important in the projects I’m working on right now. I’m at a point where I feel like I’m finally carving out the kind of stories I want to tell. The film I’m making, the creative risks I’m taking, the way I approach storytelling—it’s all influenced by what I’ve learned from JoJo’s . Not just in style, but in philosophy. I want to create things that people remember. I want to make stories that push boundaries and make audiences feel something, whether that’s awe, heartbreak or just the simple joy of experiencing something truly unique. And, honestly? That’s why I love Jolyne and Jonathan so much. They represent what I want to achieve. They stand tall in the face of impossible odds, knowing they might not make it out, but still fight with everything they have. They believe in something bigger than themselves. That’s what I want to do with my work. I want to create something that matters, even if it means taking risks. I want to leave behind something that, years from now, someone can look at and say, this changed me.  That’s what JoJo’s  did for me, and if I can capture even a fraction of that in my own creations, then I’ll know I’m on the right path. Original Photo by Sydney Field

As I approach the halfway mark of my college career while preparing for my third year at the University of New Haven, I’ve taken some time to reflect on my experiences. I’m midway through my journey, and it can be daunting to realize that once my time is up, all I’ll have left are the experiences and wisdom I’ve gained. I want to chronicle and share my experiences with younger students so they can learn what I learned through trial and error. The Importance of Mental Health in College Coming to college, I brushed off everyone who told me that university is a completely different game from high school, with more challenges than meets the eye. During my first few weeks of freshman year, I believed every upperclassman who told me “just you wait” was just trying to scare me—until I experienced firsthand what it truly meant to be away from my comfort zone, surrounded by people I didn’t know, all by myself. I grew up poor, so my family has never been able to help me. The first thing I learned about was the pressure. I had to be locked in almost 24/7. Especially on this small campus, maintaining the image of someone who is put together is incredibly important, including in my own living space. I felt like I was constantly being judged. I had to be “on” all the time and prepared for my peace to be interrupted at any moment—by friends and newfound enemies alike. I cannot emphasize enough how important mental health is in college. You’re away from home, surrounded by strangers. The most unexpected things will happen to keep you on your toes, and you quickly learn that classes are only a small part of your college experience. How I Manage My Mental Health Navigating these hurdles over the past two years has been a rough game of trial and error, with the stakes higher than ever before. I had to find my peace and my outlet while dealing with overwhelming feelings—feeling like I was the “ugly friend” and not understanding what was happening half the time. I was a 17-year-old who had graduated early, surrounded by adults. The biggest step I took—and one I’ve never looked back on—was committing to the gym. I had been lifting since high school, but I never took it seriously. At first, I worked out because I wanted to attract women the way one of my friends seemed to do effortlessly. I wanted his confidence, physique and charm. But during my sophomore year, I found friends in the gym community, and my perspective changed. The gym became more than just a way to look good—it became a way to feel confident, release energy when I was angry, and clear my head when dealing with social or academic stress. Now, I’m a completely different person in terms of both appearance and self-perception. I surrounded myself with people who were better than me, and in turn, they pushed me every day—to lift more, take that step, do one more rep even when I was practically in tears. The gym became something I could wake up and be excited about, all while becoming healthier and more confident in myself. One of the most stressful parts of college for me has been juggling assignments, exams and extracurriculars (including the one you’re reading right now). I used to cope by pulling all-nighters, sleeping through entire days and missing classes just to play catch-up at night. I developed a serious caffeine addiction—to the point where I couldn’t hold a conversation unless I was sipping a Celsius or a coffee. It was dangerous. I had to change, or my heart wouldn’t keep up with my body. By sophomore year, I discovered the Pomodoro technique, which changed the way I worked. I was diagnosed with ADHD, and the Pomodoro technique allowed me to work in short, high-intensity bursts rather than slogging through five assignments in a row. I’d work for 30 minutes, listening to music, then take a 15-minute break. This method motivated me, and I’ve ended up getting more done than ever before. I used to think that being constantly busy was the key to success—until I had a complete nervous breakdown. I locked myself in my room and stayed in bed for days. I wouldn’t even leave to eat unless my roommate and friend forced me to. But assignments piled up, and I ended up failing my first class. Let me make this clear: Staying constantly busy will never end well for you. It never has, and it never will. Taking time to pursue things you love for your “now” instead of your “later” is crucial to long-term success. Watch a movie, go for a walk, climb into sewers with your friends (as I did). Have fun—you’re still a teenager, and it’s imperative that you build that “unc” (or aunt) lore for your future kids. While I’m not big on meditation—I fall asleep whenever I try it—I’ve found that taking a few minutes to breathe deeply and focus on the present helps me calm down when things get chaotic. When something makes you anxious or stressed—whether it’s an assignment, a toxic ex, or a looming deadline on a project you should’ve started three weeks ago—step back. Leave the room, take a walk and breathe. This will keep you from crashing or making impulsive decisions. Building a Support System Having a solid support system has been key for me. Over the past two years, I’ve learned that some people will actively root for your downfall and take steps to make it happen. But I’ve also found real friends—the ones I’m still close with today. As a wise man once said, “Are you surrounding yourself with people who throw wood on your fire or those who throw piss on it?” Surround yourself with people who share your goals and genuinely enjoy your company. They are the only ones you need; anyone else is a detriment to your mental health and success. Trust your gut when it comes to the people around you—it rarely lies. Who knows? You may even find your special someone along the way. Seeking Professional Help I came into college thinking I had it all figured out, as if I didn’t need support or guidance (famous last words). Therapy is an important resource and never hurts to try if the need arises. While therapy depends on your insurance, the University of New Haven offers Counseling and Psychological Services (CAPS), which is accessible by appointment or walk-in. I currently see a therapist, and he has given me a fresh perspective and valuable advice on many of the problems I face day to day. If you’re considering off-campus therapy, make sure your insurance covers it—otherwise, you could end up paying hundreds of dollars out of pocket. Conclusion I’m not perfect, nor will I claim to have mastered every strategy I’ve mentioned. No one has it all figured out, and no one ever will. College is a first-time experience for most, and every journey is different. It’s important to remember that the steps described by anyone—including me—don’t have to be followed to the letter. Remember this: You’re still a kid. You have so much growing to do. Mistakes will be made, but it’s up to you whether you learn and grow from them or not. Photo by Madison Inouye

I want to tell you about my friend Josh. There is something about the way Josh looks at the universe in this photo—calm, still, undisturbed by the infinite possibilities stretching before him. He doesn't seem overwhelmed by the vastness of it all, nor does he look like someone desperately searching for something more. He is there, in the moment, in that moment's fullness. And that, in itself, is a quiet kind of power. Josh is one of the kindest, most intelligent people I've ever known. He is also, in many ways, one of the simplest. He doesn't chase after things he doesn't need, nor does he measure his worth by the ever-growing list of achievements that society tells us we should accumulate. He is content in ways I struggled to understand when I first met him. I have always been someone with big dreams. I want more, work for more, and always think about more ways to expand my knowledge in a different experience from the last. And for a long time, I thought this was the only way to be. Ambition was the driver of all great things, wasn't it? But Josh—Josh made me reconsider the narrative we've all been taught. He isn't unambitious; he finds joy in what already exists. And that raises the question: When is it good to simply be happy with what life gives us? Society tells us to push, to grind, to never settle. And I believe in aspiration—I believe in reaching for the stars. But what happens when we have everything we need and don't appreciate it because we’re too focused on what's next? Josh isn't loud about his thoughts. He doesn't give long speeches or write essays on the philosophy of contentment. His way of existing is his philosophy. He's expressive in his own ways—through the silly jokes he makes, the rants about whatever show he's watching, or when he quietly listens as I do most of the talking. We assume that a simple life means a simple mind, but the most complex thinkers often choose simplicity. It is easy to chase things endlessly. It is much harder to stand still amid it all and say, this is enough. And maybe that's what this photo captures—the moment where ambition meets contentment, where we stare at the universe—not in fear, not in desperation, but with the quiet understanding that we are already a part of it. Maybe the greatest thing we can learn from those who choose simplicity is that life is not just about wanting more. Sometimes, it's realizing that what we have is already everything. Original Photo by Elisa Broche @eyesogeg on Instagram

I remember the first day I walked along the sidewalks, rich, dark green grass tickling my shoes,  while Bergami Hall stopped me in my tracks.  Time passed, classes continued, and relationships bloomed. The busy moments swallowed me whole and spit me out,  teaching me to slow down and take a breath.  I keep moving forward, not dwelling on the whispers behind me. Now, it's time—time to settle into reality.  Graduation is two months away, yet I have more to do than ever before.  My story isn’t finished; it’s not time yet. I’m not ready. This isn’t the end, just a turning page.  I’ve reached the close of a chapter, not the final act.  I started here, and now I’m moving on. My time here has ended,  but the wisdom I’ve gained propels me forward. I’m eager. I’m ready now. Image by Ralph from Pixabay

Well, no. Of course, yes cannot mean no. Or can it? Consent is defined as a voluntary agreement between participants of an activity, often sexual. True consent is not coerced, meaning consent is negated in scenarios involving force, intimidation or threats. However, this definition is too broad for the variety of situations that can occur. What if one participant is drunk? What if both participants are? What about individuals who cannot legally give approval, such as those under the age of consent? These are simplified situations. We've all seen movies where a woman feigns disapproval while contradicting it with body language and facial expressions. Films throughout history have romanticized nonconsensual sex and created the impression that women are always interested. Media has distorted the idea of consent, sexualizing women and emphasizing masculinity, while filmmakers have been pressured into reinforcing these stereotypes to appeal to the masses. So, how can one be sure they have given or received consent? The simple answer is to say “yes,” but it must be intentional. Body language must reflect approval. There cannot be hesitation or ambiguity; otherwise, the consent is technically void. It can feel like a lot of pressure to give or receive proper approval, and ensuring consent can be stressful. Here are some tips to ensure appropriate consent: Practice enthusiastic consent.  It may sound unnecessary, but it is a valid method. Enthusiastic consent is a newer term that defines a positive expression of consent. According to the Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network (RAINN), the country's largest anti-sexual violence organization, “Enthusiastic consent means looking for the presence of a ‘yes’ rather than the absence of a ‘no.’” This consent form involves extra communication and body language to ensure confirmation and comfort. Examples include nodding, positive feedback and repeated verbal confirmation during the activity. Do not proceed if you receive mixed signals.  Mixed signals are often a sign of hesitation or reluctance. If a person says yes but seems unsure, they may have felt pressured or are not entirely comfortable. No matter the situation, mixed signals do not mean “yes" and therefore void consent. Stop and ask questions to help them feel safe and heard. You can change your mind at any time.  Consent can be withdrawn at any point. Saying yes once does not mean yes indefinitely. Additionally, just because a participant gave consent before does not guarantee consent in the future. No one should feel pressured to say yes because of past experiences or their relationship with the other participant. Decisions should be based solely on the present moment and current feelings. If they say no, that’s it.  You stop, and you move on. There is no argument to be made. It is important to respect consent, as it reflects not only on your respect for the participant but also for yourself. Many factors can influence a participant’s answer. As mentioned before, all members of the party must avoid force, intimidation and threats. However, this generalizes a wide range of situations. Many forms of manipulation can be used to elicit a “yes” from someone who is unwilling. One of the most common forms of manipulation that impacts consent is guilt-tripping. A participant may intentionally pressure the other by appealing to their sympathy or pity , making it easier for the unwilling individual to change their mind. Humans naturally want to satisfy the desires of those they care about. However, guilt-tripping can also be unintentional. A disappointed reaction to rejection can unintentionally sway the other person. No matter whether guilt-tripping is intentional or not, it should not influence consent. It is not your fault. While consent is difficult to define with strict rules, it is simple to recognize. There should never be uncertainty about whether all participants are willing. Communication is the foundation of consent. In 2025, we all need to talk and listen to each other, especially in intimate situations. We should be able to express ourselves openly without judgment or confusion, while also respecting others for who they are and what they want. This is the year we choose to voice our concerns, desires and boundaries freely.

Contributing Writer Neha Jelemu Late into the night, a half-eaten muffin sits on my desk as I prepare for the next day. Yet, in the quiet moments, I find myself wondering: what exactly did I accomplish today? I’ve always seen life as a sequence of actions without a clear destination. My mind is my most formidable foe, and every day is a battle. Morning arrives with an existential question: What am I doing? Where am I going?  There are no simple answers. If there were an award for taking on the most difficult tasks head-on, I might be a top contender. Each day brings a new adventure, but today felt particularly intense. My toughest obstacle was my own mind, spiraling out of control over a life-changing decision. After what seemed like an eternity of analyzing every possibility, I realized that shaping my thoughts—rather than being consumed by them—was progress. Still, some days, like today, bring an overwhelming sense of fatigue and disorientation, while others flood me with an inexplicable joy—dopamine surging through my system like an unstoppable force. How can I even describe this sensation? It’s more excruciating than the worst menstrual cramps; it feels like my brain itself is seizing up. I have learned more from life than I ever imagined possible. At 25, I feel like I’ve lived 50 years’ worth of experiences. Some days, I question what truly makes me human. Is it my intellect, which never stops asking questions, or my heart, which never stops feeling? I've always been a cheerful, vivacious, and multi-talented woman. I thrive on multitasking, yet today, I spent hours trying to understand why I was feeling this way. Before I knew it, noon had arrived, and my stomach reminded me that eating is non-negotiable, no matter my emotions. With my limited cooking skills, I managed to prepare a simple egg dish—a small but necessary victory. Later, I decided to go to the gym, hoping exercise would help me decompress. As soon as I stepped inside, I found myself wondering why everyone else was there. Were they all simply working on their bodies, or were some, like me, using exercise as an escape from internal battles? Drawn to a Zumba class, I stepped in, eager to experience the energy of dance. By the end of the session, I was drenched in sweat—but I felt truly alive. Back home, I threw myself into my laptop, determined to be productive before the day ended. After all, isn’t self-worth measured by output? Just as I was losing myself in my work, my phone rang. It was my mother, calling to remind me not to overthink things. “What’s the worst that could happen?”  she often asks. “There’s nothing too big to be afraid of.”  Her words ground me. She is my constant source of motivation, the force that holds my world together. Overthinking has become a staple of my daily routine. Back in India, I was different—carefree, unburdened by the endless arguments in my head. But living alone, managing responsibilities, and navigating adulthood in a foreign country have changed me. And that’s okay. Change reshapes life, brings fresh perspectives, and teaches valuable lessons. Still, I need to break free from this cycle of overthinking. The real question remains: brain or heart?  Which one should I trust? One pushes me forward, while the other keeps me reflective. Through it all, my career has been my anchor. No matter what life throws at me, my determination to succeed never wavers. Whether it’s six in the morning or midnight, my ambition drives me forward. My career is one of the things I am most proud of. In life, I may lose many things—but not this. It is the one aspect of my identity I can claim with absolute certainty. Despite everything, I know I’m doing okay. No matter how difficult the journey, I never fail to give my all. I see life as a game of chess—each person making their moves, navigating their own strategies and battles. I will continue making mine, but I will keep them unpredictable. Because in this game, my greatest advantage is the element of surprise. Original Photo by Neha Jelemu

Taboo  is all about tackling the tough questions and seeking informed answers. I’m Taralyn Andes, and through my diverse experiences and relationships at the University of New Haven, I’ve encountered conversations that many shy away from. As society evolves, so do the controversies, and it’s time to explore them head-on. I know I’m not alone in this curiosity. To truly educate ourselves, we need to break the silence and start having the conversations that matter.

Neha Jelemu Contributing Writer We grow, mature and leave a legacy, just like the vine and its branches do. And there is unparalleled beauty in it. Peering through my window on an early Sunday morning, I catch sight of a tree with vines standing resolute, its branches reaching out like the arms of time itself. It has remained for as long as I can remember, its branches spreading out and remaining unwavering across time. It perseveres season after season—through the searing heat of summer, the ferocious winds of autumn and the torrential rains that try to bless it. Yet it stands firm, deeply entrenched and unshaken by time. Like my grandma, who at 85 remains a gentle force of wisdom and elegance. As the sunlight shines through her aged bark, I see her—resilient, resolute and lovely in the manner that only a well-lived life can be. In a culture where youth is idealized and aging is viewed as a gradual decline, I find it fascinating that beauty transforms rather than disappears. My grandmother's wrinkled hands, trembling gait and the fading brightness in her eyes all tell a narrative. Her journey is woven into every step she takes, much like the vine's eternal branches that have stood tall in the face of many storms. My grandmother, a woman of unwavering strength and discipline, has been the guiding force in my life. A guardian of traditions and morals, she has always stood firm in her beliefs, never swayed by time or change. Since my childhood, she made it a habit to have dinner at exactly 6 pm, a ritual I still follow—a quiet homage to her steadfast ways. During our tea times, she fondly recalls the little treats I once gave her, subtly ensuring she receives them again, and only then do I realize her gentle way of asking. She has never been drawn to fashion, always distant from her charms, yet she delights in the small joy of having her nails painted—only by me. In that small gesture, I recognize the differences between us, yet it also reflects the quiet, enduring love that connects us beyond words. She has never been to a beach. The grandeur of the ocean, the limitless horizon, the calm crash of waves against the shore—these are all unfamiliar to her. Yet, she has endured life's ever-changing tides in a way that few can truly understand. Despite losing her spouse before I was born, she persevered with unwavering determination, raising generations beneath her protective canopy. Looking at her old images, I'm struck by how time transforms us. Her once-youthful face, full of vibrancy and enthusiasm, has softened, exhibiting the signs of a life well lived. As humans, we fear this metamorphosis, lamenting the loss of our youthful attractiveness, but aging is a collection of memories, lessons and love. We all evolve, much like a vine tree that grows and sprouts new branches like the old ones wither. Some branches produce fruit effortlessly, while others struggle. However, every branch contributes to the tree's story, just as each stage of our lives adds to our particular narrative. Many homes cut down trees as they mature, deeming them no longer useful. But my parents elected to let the vine tree alone, allowing it to exist with dignity—just as they treasured my grandma despite her age. This modest deed has deep meaning—it is a tribute to honoring the elderly and recognizing that value does not diminish with age. In a world that frequently dismisses the elderly as burdens rather than reservoirs of wisdom, I find enormous beauty in accepting and loving aging. Our elders bring direction and knowledge, just as the vine tree provides shade and stability; their presence is a living history that we must preserve. A love like my parents' has shown me what true devotion means. Their marriage, a beautiful testament to resilience and care, has been a beacon of what love can endure. Growing up, I have seen the way their love has shaped the foundation of our family, guiding us through both ease and hardship. I've come to understand that love isn't just about smooth days—it's about building something unbreakable even when the ground feels uncertain. My father's motivation, my mother's incredible strength, my brother's constant support and my grandparents' wisdom have all worked together to craft a home full of warmth. Like they say, “A house is built on sand, but a home is built with hands.” Now I remember why this captioned frame hangs in our hallway. Through every challenge, we've found a way, and now our home stands as proof of the love that holds us together. Life is a journey, from root to branch, from dawn to dusk, each moment a dance. Every stage, to see ourselves in a song we sing, where each breath we take holds the wisdom it brings. The wrinkles, diminishing vision and shaky hands do not indicate deterioration, but rather the passage through a life filled with experience. Despite their age, my grandmother's hands continue to hold mine, guide me and develop me into the person I am today. In my eyes, these are the most beautiful hands in the world.

"No person in the United States shall, based on sex, be excluded from participation in, be denied the benefits of, or be subjected to discrimination under any education program or activity receiving federal financial assistance." These are the words of Title IX, a law drafted by Patsy Mink and Edith Green to combat discrimination in schools following the Civil Rights Act of 1964. According to the University of New Haven’s website, the Title IX office handles reports and complaints regarding sexual harassment, sexual violence, relationship violence and stalking. The website also outlines the process for filing a Title IX report and the different options available for those who have experienced these situations. To better understand Title IX policies, it's important to define key terms, such as consent. According to the law, consent is an active, knowing and voluntary exchange of affirmative words and/or actions that indicate a willingness to participate in a particular sexual activity. The law states that individuals capable of providing consent must be above the legal age of consent—16 in Connecticut—not incapacitated in any way and not silent when consent is requested. Beyond consent, the Title IX office and the university’s website provide additional definitions for various forms of discrimination. According to the university’s Title IX nondiscrimination statement, “The University is committed to preventing or eliminating all forms of gender-based discrimination in its education programs or activities by its commitment to Title IX of the Education Amendments of 1972.” Andi Rivera, a freshman music and sound recording major, shared their perspective on diversity and resources at the university. “I think it’s diverse, or they try to be, at least. I've come out to a couple of professors before as trans, and they've never tried to make me feel like I'm not what I am,” Rivera said. They added that professors have provided them with resources and connected them with student organizations after coming out. Rivera, like many queer students, expressed gratitude for the university’s resources aimed at preventing discrimination. However, they also pointed to a concern about racial diversity. "Most of the people I know are white, especially in the music department. Most students there are white," Rivera said. While they don’t feel singled out, the lack of Hispanic students they’ve encountered raises concerns about diversity on campus. The university has several preventative measures in place, including mandated reporters. Mandated reporters are faculty and staff—excluding health providers and counselors—who are required to report misconduct to the Title IX office to help ensure student safety. Reports, whether made by a mandated reporter or a student, are kept confidential. The Title IX office also offers support services for students who may be unsure if their experiences fall under the law. The university’s website lists several reasons to contact a caseworker, including: Seeking to understand one’s options after experiencing sex discrimination or sexual misconduct. Learning of a situation that may warrant a university investigation. Needing guidance on how to handle a situation that indirectly affects them. Seeking informal remedies or administrative measures to de-escalate or alleviate a difficult situation. Having questions about university policies and procedures. To file a Title IX report on campus, students can contact Title IX Coordinator Barbara J. Lawrence at BLawrence@newhaven.edu or call (203) 932-7269. Reports may also be submitted through the university’s incident report form, which follows the Policy on Sexual and Gender-Based Interpersonal Violence and Harassment and the Non-Discrimination Policy. Anonymous reports may be made to on- and off-campus counseling centers. Alejandro Diaz Osorio: https://www.pexels.com/es-es/foto/mano-macro-dedos-piel-17589296/

“I’m sorry your radiance!” I nervously bow my head, following my father’s example.   “Settle down child.” She began to walk towards me, each step swaying her billowing white pants. As she drew near, I couldn’t help but notice her focus being on the painting rather than me. A smile played on her lips— yet, that kindness never reached her eyes. It was almost upsetting seeing how her eyes cut into the frame, defiling it. “I can see why you were beside yourself with wonder, this is a remarkable piece” She declared, extending her starkly black-gloved hand—a measure designed to contain the heat and protect the healing touch of the Incrux. “Yet, I do wonder how it found its way down here of all places… No matter, it will have to be removed.” My heart sank. I barely manage a murmur “Your radiance, if I may ask, why does it need to be removed?”   She fixed  a gaze upon me, sending lightning down my spine, “Hmm? Clearly, it has no right to be down here of all places” she said, clear disgust in her voice “It would in all likelihood, serve a far nobler purpose among the Ashilyr, in the middle and lower rings. An apt subject for research, theological debate and immense discussion, the notion sounds incredibly riveting does it not?” She tapped the painting roughly, “its purpose is wasted down here, which just won’t do. It goes against the very principles of the Ashilyr. ”  Her words struck me down, a stark reminder of the immutable principles that governed our society. The Ashilyr, were more than just mere scholars; they were the preservers of our culture, our history, our “heat.” They were the ones who could harness Immolation with unmatched skill, a blessing crucial in manipulating the heat.  Their influence, however, extended far beyond theology. Many Ashilyr devoted themselves to medicine, science, art, law and deep exploration. All for our society's continuous evolution. But that would mean nothing could be wasted, even if it could bring happiness to those who really needed it. “... I understand, your radiance” I cower, grabbing onto my Fathers hand.  “Good, I consider any further explanation unnecessary. Whether or not I should have even had to remind you just shows the quality of your upbringing.” My Father flinched as she said this “But then again, what was I expecting from the lower ring? In the name of Deviri Layti of the Incrux, I hereby command your immediate departure.”   I tug on my Father’s hand, I knew we couldn’t stay but to be ripped from something that felt so right… It didn’t sit well with me. Deviri noticed this “Do not trouble yourself, child. It is not as though any of us shall ever behold the sky. Our blood  has sealed our fate, after all.” And with that, I was forced back into reality. My feet pad softly against the wet, mulchy pavement, the icy water splashing up with every step. My eyes wander, taking in the familiar structures  looming overhead like a dark shadow. They were like palaces suspended in the air, their bases encrusted with thousands of shimmering phyelia crystals. A network of bridges wove between them, all converging upon the towering centerpiece of the city The upper rings of Llanka are, without doubt, a sight to behold Yet, even those who lived there were trapped underneath the  unyielding torrent of rain.  I thought back to those paintings once more. The vivid blues, oranges, golden warmth of the sun… Those thoughts are overridden by the smell of metallic rain, clangs of construction and tides of crowds throughout the bustling streets of the lower ring.  Countless canals weaved underneath the bridges with boats strung along by morugs, giant serpentine slugs with four curved antennae. With their bioluminescent flaps to their sides, they would push themselves across the surface of the water. The effort was applaudable but the howls they would make were less than affable and utterly despair inducing if you weren’t expecting it. It started like a guttural croak but very quickly switched to a distinctly high pitch as if something was being shocked back to life. I can’t count the amount of times I almost fell into the canals because of a poorly timed howl .  Luckily, the art exhibit was only a few blocks from our home—a hollow carved into the tall cliffs leading up to the vast plateau of the middle ring. From the southside of the lower ring, we had a fog-laden view of the restless ocean. Silhouettes of unseen monstrosities lurked within the mist, their massive forms stirring the waves with each eerie, slithering movement. The Ashilyr  insisted there was nothing to fear—that the creatures were too far away to pose a threat—but that did little to ease my fear. Night after night, I dreamt of the fog parting, revealing their grotesque heads as they turned their sights upon the city. I shudder from this thought as we ascend the steep metal stairs, leading up to the haphazardly stacked,  hollows. We finally reach the door of Hoolay Hollow,  its rusted hinges barely holding onto the frame. We were told to slowly open it lest we’d have to worry about a draft throughout the Hollow. Though, considering the state of the cracked windows, that was already a problem.   A narrow corridor stretched ahead, flanked by two rooms on either side. At the far end, a small staircase wound upward to the next floor. It was tight and I constantly heard voices and all kinds of vivid sounds through the thin walls. Today it was quieter than usual, which wasn’t saying much. Though, I could still hear light thumping coming from upstairs. “Those Ihpi sure are an enthusiastic bunch” He sighed fiddling for the key to our room. “Yeah… I wonder why they are always wrestling?” I ask, rubbing my chin. He let out a confusingly loud laugh before opening the door to our room. I hear my mothers stern voice cut in as we enter. “ Ayha, you two came back quicker than expected!” She brushed off her hands before strutting towards the two of us, her eyes locking onto me “Ah, your hair is so messy— did you let her walk around outside like this?” She asked my Father. “Good to see you dear, and no it was just exceptionally windy today.” My father ruffled my hair even more “Don’t worry, Seneca looked like a cute and proper Itzan girl today. I’m sure everyone was very impressed by her manners.” I pull my hood over my face to hide my embarrassment. “Mmhm, since you're here early, you two can help me set up dinner” My mother said, crossing her lean arms. “ Fir. and Fira. Li gave me some excess truffles, so guess what we’re having?” My face lit up. The Ihpi tribe was known for their food, and the Li’s would occasionally share some every now and then. “Truffle risotto again?” I asked eagerly. “Nope, truffle soup tonight.” She replied with a small grin on her face. My excitement faded slightly, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. She patted my head, making sure to fix whatever piece of hair was sticking out “ Ayha , don’t pout. When you become an Ashilyr , you’ll have all the truffle risotto you want. Though by then you’ll have better options” My stomach churns as she says this, the face of the smug Deviri flashing vividly through my mind. Her belittling smile, the way she talked down father, the way she vehemently believed we could gain no value from the art. I didn’t realize how mad it made me until just now.  “For now, we will have to make due with what we have.” My Mom popped back up and started towards the kitchen. Me and my father stood for a moment before she beckoned for us to follow.

Neha Jelemu Contributing Writer In today's world, the intersection of spirituality and commerce raises essential questions about how religion is practiced and experienced. As an international student from Visakhapatnam, India, I have witnessed the commodification of spiritual practices—a phenomenon that challenges the essence of belief. During my travels in India, I stumbled upon a remote village nestled among breathtaking landscapes. What truly captured my attention was not the scenic beauty but rather an unorthodox religious ritual unfolding before my eyes. I watched as a group of individuals engaged in a highly unconventional ceremony that both confused and intrigued me. The scene unfolded with the solemn draping of a small cloth over a figure, eerily reminiscent of the crucifixion of Jesus Christ. As fervent prayers and hymns filled the air, my gaze was drawn to a person claiming to channel the divine will of Jesus, piercing their palms in a dramatic display of devotion. A myriad of questions flooded my mind. Why would individuals subject themselves to such extreme acts of faith? What compels them to perform rituals that defy conventional religious practices? Are they driven by genuine belief, or are there deeper psychological and social factors at play? Having grown up in a family of faith, I often pondered the nature of belief. Does one's upbringing shape religious identity, or does faith arise from personal experience? Can it withstand the storms of doubt and ambiguity? As someone who values practicality and logic, I struggled with these questions—until an experience challenged my skepticism. One night, in the depths of sleep, I had a vision that defied rational explanation. In this dream, an onion appeared before me. Its layers symbolized the protection and care I could rely on, making me reflect on how faith often offers guidance in unexpected ways. Beliefs frequently emerge not through doctrine but through personal revelation. Faith is not always found in miracles or dramatic signs. Sometimes, it emerges through the subtle symbolism of everyday life. Like an onion with its layers of protection, the divine offers grace and guidance—if we have the eyes to see and the heart to receive it. In moments of darkness and illness, I have felt the presence of the divine. A quiet voice once penetrated the early hours of the morning: "I am with you." It was a reassurance that both shook and consoled me. In my mother’s embrace, my fears transformed into warmth—a revelation of a higher power. These encounters set the stage for my spiritual journey. From an inner warning that helped me avoid disaster to a comforting presence in the middle of suffering, I recognized these moments as intricate messages from God, deepening my faith. However, faith is not impervious to doubt. Questions plagued my heart whenever my aspirations were crushed, and my visions clashed with reality. Why should I continue on this path when another option seemed easier? Amid the uncertainty, a familiar voice echoed, reminding me to trust the unseen hand guiding my steps. Religious observance is deeply tied to theology and culture. Observing the Russian Orthodox Church’s standing worship practices in America, I contemplated the significance of enduring physical discomfort in religious devotion. The Russian Orthodox tradition associates standing during liturgy with reverence, humility and endurance before the divine. This contrasts with the seated, prayer-oriented approach more common in India. Why should we worship God through difficulty? From a theological perspective, enduring physical discomfort during worship can be seen as a spiritual discipline fostering perseverance, self-control and detachment from worldly distractions. While standing worship may seem intimidating, it serves as a reminder that different traditions emphasize different aspects of faith. Ultimately, the posture of worship should align with one's beliefs and spiritual needs, striking a balance between physical comfort and heartfelt devotion. As I navigate life's winding paths, I realize that faith is not a fixed destination but a continuous journey—a living connection with God that transcends human understanding. In a world often marked by skepticism, my purpose is not to persuade but to remind: the divine speaks softly, awaiting our response. As Revelation 3:20 states, “Behold, I stand at the door and knock.” Through this journey, I have come to understand that faith is not just about the destination—it is about seeking meaning, understanding and a connection with something greater than ourselves. Even in doubt, there is room for growth. Faith takes shape through struggles, victories and revelations, forming a profound bond with the divine. As we navigate the complexities of existence, may we open our hearts to the transformative power of faith, knowing that in communion with the sacred, we find solace, strength and meaning.