CHARGED-UP RESULTS

Connor Trabal Contributing Writer Image of the administrative building on the property through a window covered in vines. Photo courtesy of @ct.forgotten on instagram Sprawled across approximately 800 acres on the Norwich / Preston town line is Norwich State Hospital, a ruin of what once was a pioneer in psychiatric treatments. Opened in 1904, the state hospital grew from 1 building on 100 acres to 90 buildings on roughly 800 acres. In the 1950s, the hospital had a peak patient population and was fully self-sufficient. It operated two garages, greenhouses, barns, and paint shops. Patients had access to various amenities, including a movie theater, dance hall, kitchen, and cafeteria. Additionally, some patients participated in specialized programs that offered trade and finance classes. Close to 400 acres of Norwich State Hospital are   going to be turned over to Mohegan once the cleanup is complete. Many of the buildings have been torn down and the ones left standing are going to be part of a large-scale renovation. Image of the administrative building during sunset. Photo courtesy of @ct.forgotten on instagram Every small noise made my skin crawl as I walked through the long corridors of these buildings, the gothic structures paired with norwich state hospital's dark history added to the anxiety. Each room echoed a story of a once prosperous community, chips of concrete and glass scream under my feet. Beds and dressers that were once full now lay vacant and rotting, reminiscing on better days. Every room seemed to have a question that was unanswered, why would they leave their patients files behind? What happened here? I couldn't help but think of the history of this complex, both the good and the bad. The hospital closed in 1996 due to decreasing patient population and patient mistreatment / abuse, but before their doors closed for good they were pioneers in psychiatric treatments and medications that are still used today. Image of vandalized granite staircase in the administrative building. Photo courtesy of @ct.forgotten on instagram The psych building was torn down a long time ago with a few people reporting that Mohegan had burned sage for up to four days after the demolition highlighting the impact of the hospital's dark history. The highlight of my tour through Norwich State Hospital was the administrative building, never before have I  seen an abandoned building with such grand and beautiful architecture. When I first walked into the main staircase portion I was in absolute awe at the sheer height of the ceilings, the granite railings and stairs convey the strong presence that this hospital once had here. I couldn't imagine why anyone would want to destroy such beautiful craftsmanship, what was the point? Even though I didn't like that this place was maliciously destroyed, it does make for a better comeback story. Image of flooded tunnels underneath Norwich State Hospital. Photo courtesy of @ct.forgotten on instagram Travelling further into the property, I discovered a portion of the old tunnel system that wasn't demolished yet the only problem was nearly a foot of water that covered the floor. Naturally, I got my friends together. We grabbed some waterproof boots and headed back fully prepared for the expedition. Each of us walked into the water slowly in a single file line, brushing past debris hanging from the roof. As we walk further into the tunnel our flashlights seem to work less and less. The darkness of the tunnel ate everything that wasn't directly illuminated by a flashlight, mice ran along the pipes next to us, and water was dripping from the ceiling onto us but we were determined to find out how far we could go. The frightening part was seeing pieces of the roof that had fallen onto the floor. We tried to be cautious, but in hindsight we should have left right then. Making it to the end, I was glad we were leaving but dreading the walk back through the tunnel. Once we relished in our accomplishment, we headed out of the facility. That was enough adventure for one day.  Image of abandoned employee housing through broken glass. Photo courtesy of @ct.forgotten on instagram Developing places like these is vital for a coherent community. We can get rid of hazardous areas and recycle them so they can serve our society again. Upcycling abandoned places is not a new idea and has been proven to be cost effective in places like Italy where they use abandoned buildings as positive energy buildings that generate electricity. These historic places sometimes get money from the state to help with renovation costs. Renovation of this property is a big win not only for the historic community, but also the citizens of Preston and Norwich that have been anticipating this project. Even though approximately 400 acres is going to be renovated, that still leaves nearly half of the property untouched not accounting for roads, water, and  unused land. The main half of the campus is currently being renovated, meanwhile houses and buildings off to the side decay more everyday. Image of a hallway with a glass block window. Photo courtesy of @ct.forgotten on instagram The town of Preston sold their side to Mohegan, which leaves the question of what Norwich is going to do with their portion of the property. After further investigation, Norwich seems to own the employee housing and some other buildings on the opposite side of the road from the hospital’s main campus. Is Norwich State Hospital finally getting the attention it deserves? Will we renovate or demolish the buildings that are unaffected by the ongoing project? Each one of us has an obligation to pay attention to the abandoned buildings in our communities and hold our elected officials accountable for the safety hazards that can be created by these places. Abandoned buildings can influence crime and property value directly affecting the investments of regular people. The renovation of this property is a step in the right direction in Connecticut's ongoing battle with vacancy, and it's our job to finish it.  For more abandoned buildings around Connecticut follow @Ct.forgotten on Instagram or TikTok.

While this is my crude interpretation, almost everyone has seen the meme, which makes fun of the seemingly overinterpretation of minor details in literature.  While we may have rolled our eyes listening to our English teachers discuss what the color green represents in The Great Gatsby, these classes teach us fundamental media comprehension skills.  When the world was forced into lockdown in 2019 due to the pandemic, it created a massive setback for the comprehension skills of young children.  Students had to adapt to online and asynchronous learning, which had disastrous consequences for young children's development. A research study performed by the Library of Medicine states that 32.8% of children from grades K-8 were behind grade level in literacy and comprehension.  One of the most frustrating repercussions of the decline in literacy comprehension is the lack of media literacy.  Media literacy means the ability to interpret the deeper and more complex nuances behind media and the ability to think critically when confronted with challenging topics and discussions. Why is this the most frustrating repercussion?  Have you ever fallen in love with a character, only to go online and read egregious mischaracterizations? Have you read a critique about a movie that sounded like they watched it muted and with their eyes shut?  This is the lack of media literacy. The popular Netflix original “Arcane” is a perfect example of a complex show that delves into complex topics. The audience struggles to fully grasp the point.  One of the most controversial characters is Caitlyn Kirramman, the daughter of nobles and a high-ranking officer in the city of Piltover, where most of the upper class lives.  One of the biggest conflicts in the show is the fight between Piltover and Zaun, described as a crime ridden undercity. Zaun, however, can be seen as a clear representation of the lower class and the struggles the poor face at the hands of the wealthy.  Piltover and Zauns’ consistent battle is a class war but the show allows you to connect with and empathize with characters of all backgrounds. You can see the horror of the enforcers from the perspective of children in Zaun. You also get to see the fear and pain of innocent Piltover citizens at the hand of attacks from angry citizen’s of Zaun.  Caitlyn can be described as a morally grey character…which is the root of the issue. Media literacy is crucial to empathizing with her struggles and not supporting her actions.  Caitlyn lost people close to her at the hands of Jinx, a Zaunite (resident of Zaun) and a wanted criminal. The grief of losing someone close is a pain that can and should be sympathized with, and important to understand why she would want justice for Jinx’s actions.  Her actions for said justice was to use her newly appointed power to use toxic industrial waste, to gas out Zaun and innocent civilians in an attempt to get to Jinx. This shift right here in Caitlyn’s character is crucial to analyze and understand, but many miss the mark.  To not understand her suffering, completely misses her humanity and vulnerability. In the wake of losing her loved ones at the hands of Jinx, Caitlyn is trapped in her grief and mourning. Her vulnerability made her susceptible to the manipulation of Ambessa, a high ranking general and matriarch of the influential Medarda family. Ambessa is ruthless and manipulative. She utilizes Caitlyn's rage, driven by grief, and appoints Caitlyn as head of Piltover’s enforcers. Caitlyn is used as a chess piece in Ambessa’s game for power and control. She was never going to be able to bring her loved ones true justice.  To overly sympathize with her, you miss the fact her character is also meant to elude the speed in which “protecting civilians” turns into brutality and dictatorship. To get back at Jinx, she harms innocent civilians in Zaun with no means to escape the toxic gas. There is also the subtlety where the symbol of Piltover on the enforcers suits and banners, changes into Caitlyn’s family crest, signifying the shift in power and control. Caitlyn’s determination to avenge her loved ones and protect her citizens, leads to abuse of power and police brutality.  Caitlyn is a character doomed to fail no matter the efforts she makes. No matter what, she is in a predicament where in her position of power she will, no matter what, hurt innocent civilians and the people close to her. Justice was never a real option.  Her character is so rich with nuance that fans mischaracterize her, unable to comprehend her as a whole. I would describe her as one of the best antiheroes in the media.  It is more common than not in the media that antiheroes and villains are mischaracterized, and fans miss the mark completely when analyzing their motives and actions. However, social media has taken to aiding the process of deconstructing characters and teaching media literacy to those who watch.  A perfect example of utilizing and strengthening other’s media literacy is Tiktoker @luckyleftie.  This page is dedicated to analyzing and critiquing different forms of media, and encourages followers to practice deeper levels of thinking about the entertainment we consume. If we don’t make the conscious decision to practice these lost skills, we will miss out on enriching media and strengthening our critical-thinking. Our media will not wait for us to learn literacy.

To humans, the sky is beautiful, endless and incomprehensibly vast.  By day, the sun reigns supreme, casting its divine light over all beneath it. By night, the stars and moon weave a tapestry of ever-changing beauty, inspiring tales of adventure and transcendence. For humanity, the sky has long been a canvas for imagination, a frontier of endless possibilities. I have always wondered what it would be like to behold such a magnificent sight. The sky I have known has always been muddled with gray and blue clouds, accompanied by an ostentatious downpour that never ceased in its performance. Even if I try to gaze at our sky, the rain falls directly into my eyes as if to punish me for my transgression. Yet, there was a time when I hadn’t known the truth. I vividly remember the day I first saw an illustration of the human sky. I was just a young girl, dressed in my mossy green cloak, frayed strings hugging the folds of my elbow. Though I wasn’t fond of the color, my father believed it went nicely with my warm amber eyes. Underneath, I wore a tan shirt with uneven stitches of hadar flowers along the collar. Their onyx blue petals complimented my similarly colored trousers, which I constantly had to hitch up to my waist. Perched on my father’s strong shoulders, I absentmindedly played with his soft, curly hair, giggling every time he grumbled in annoyance. I had a habit of trying to grab his horns, unaware of how sensitive they were until he flicked mine in retaliation. That day, he told me he was taking me to see something wonderful—an exhibit of creations made by humans from outside Llanka called “paintings.” Back then, I thought humans were widely unremarkable—hornless, tailless and unable to communicate with heat. They only entered Llanka for business, trading their bland food and strange devices. They weren’t even devout followers of Aczl, blessed be his name, the deity who birthed existence. What could they possibly offer us? I held onto that belief, right up until the moment we stepped inside and I saw for myself. We entered the building alongside several others and were met with a large hallway with smooth oak floors—uncommon for most buildings in the lower ring of the city. Large silver frames were strewn about, various illustrations resting atop their surfaces. The backdrop of the wall was a delicate white with a light orange hue, humming off the phyelia crystal sconces. I froze, eyes darting back and forth. What is this place?  I thought, tapping my father’s head to let me down. My rustic boots tapped onto the foreign surface. The planks sighed beneath me, their softness unexpected, as if the floor itself was welcoming me in. Immediately, I ran off, giving my father no chance to react. The pictures called to me, each holding a story hidden deep within its frame. The humans lacked any of the distinct characteristics of the Melawa, yet some of them were so pretty. How was it possible for them to capture their exact expressions? How— Out of the corner of my eye, a painting caught my attention. A dark sapphire canvas, decorated with what I assumed were tiny opulent pearls, much like the ones my mother always wanted. They scattered across the painting, but three stood out from the rest. Luminous orbs, each bigger than the last, bathed the vast landscape below in their soft, silver glow. Clouds, so familiar to me, made themselves scarce, their only purpose to frame the giant pearls. I stared in a trance, reaching out to touch the painting. I wondered if I could feel what it was like to be there. My clawed fingers glided across the glossy surface, its smooth splendor compelling me further. “Ah, be careful now, Seneca,” my father’s soft but stern voice whispered as he finally caught up to me. “You don’t want to damage the painting.” I barely heard him. This was the most delicate I had ever been in my life. The image kept pulling me in until I could no longer contain my thoughts. I need to know. “...What is this?” I asked, my gaze still attuned to the otherworldly frame. My father let out a small laugh. “This,” he said, “is the sky of humans. I had heard descriptions before, but it really is something to see in person, huh?” He wrapped his large but gentle hands around my own, grounding me in a moment that felt both new yet strangely comforting. Was this truly what the human sky looked like all the time? My father nudged me with his elbow. “This isn’t the only painting with the sky, you know. Would you like to see the others?” I snapped my head toward him, vehemently shaking it to the point where it could fly off at any moment. We explored the collection of sky paintings, all created by a man named Lucian Orzho, each evoking a unique feeling. I had never imagined a sky could be so blue, so orange, or shift through so many colors and hues. The fields of grass that danced beneath that sky were so happy, so free. And the sun—what even was a sun? A sight like that was absent in the mess of metal, concrete and rain that was Llanka’s lower ring. If, for a moment, I could experience what it would be like to have that kind of freedom, I felt like I would be unstoppable. I was so lost in this imaginary world, a wide smile permanently etched onto my face, that I barely noticed when the noise had fallen silent. Curious, I turned to see what caused the sudden shift. A woman lightly glided across the floor. Though her steps were barely audible, the attention she commanded spoke volumes. I couldn’t see her face as she was focused on the paintings. What I could see, however, were the large horns piercing outward like frozen cracks within concrete. Bright orange threads were woven on each side of her horns, encircling golden sigils. The sigil itself was composed of three arrows—one pointing upward, while the other two emerged from a central junction, stabbing outward to the left and right. A perfect circle occupied the center, while a harp-like shape formed on the edges, locking the sigil into place. I was young, but I was no fool. This was the sigil of the Incrux—the healers and one of the seven most holy tribes of Llanka. “Why’d you stop observing the painting, little flame?” Her voice was low and lulling, yet it cut through the quiet like a knife. I froze, uncertain of who she was speaking to. Please, Aczl, blessed be his name, don’t let it be me. She turned ever so slightly, white hair flowing to the side, a single golden eye falling upon me. I began to tremble. It seemed my prayer wasn’t answered. By: Joshua Lozano

Dear Chargers, I would like to congratulate the staff of the Horseshoe Magazine on its first issue of the spring semester, and I am pleased to have the opportunity to share a few words with our University community. It is definitely an exciting time to be a Charger. There are many initiatives taking place across campus as part of our vision to become a global powerhouse for preparing the next generation of elite talent to excel in the workforce of the future. We are continually creating new preferred partnerships and pathway opportunities with some of the most successful companies in the region – and beyond. Our goal is to maximize the outcomes of our graduates as well as the investment you and your families are making to pursue a college degree. Remember, your success is personal to us. We are here to support you every step of the way. The best piece of advice I can give you is to immerse yourself in everything the University has to offer. Use the many opportunities you have in and out of the classroom as a springboard for the rest of your life. For those of you who are in your last semester of your current academic journey, I encourage you to finish strong and to take advantage of the many resources available to you to help jumpstart your career.  Make sure your resume is in Handshake, and keep your professors posted as you secure post-graduation opportunities. I look forward to celebrating you at Commencement. I offer everyone my best wishes for a productive and enjoyable Spring semester. I truly see no ceiling on what you can achieve now and in the future. Go Chargers and, as always, Power On! All my best President Frederiksen

Sigmund Freud's Madonna-whore complex is a psychological theory that should keep people up at night. Freud argued that some men categorize women into two distinct groups: the Madonnas, whom they view as pure, nurturing, and saintly, and the "whores," whom they see as sexual, promiscuous, and enticing. The unsettling part? Men with this complex often struggle to be sexually attracted to the women they place in the Madonna category but can objectify and desire those they categorize as whores. One film that explores this theory in a striking way is the 2000 Italian film Malèna . Set during World War II, the story is told from the perspective of a young boy, Renato, who experiences his first sexual awakening when he becomes infatuated with Malèna, a beautiful woman awaiting the return of her husband from war. Malèna captivates the entire town—men admire her, while women grow jealous. However, when news spreads that Malèna's husband has died in battle, the town's perception of her shifts. Men begin to desire her in a more sinister way, while the women accuse her of promiscuity. She is even taken to court over allegations of an affair, and despite proving her innocence, her attorney assaults her, knowing she has no money to pay him. As time passes, Malèna's reputation deteriorates. She is ostracized, denied work, and abandoned by her father. After his death, she turns to prostitution, altering her appearance by dyeing her hair red and working in a brothel. When Nazi occupiers leave the town, the local women take out their resentment on Malèna, beating her in public, ripping her clothes, and cutting off her hair. Humiliated, she leaves the town. But then, a twist—her husband, who was thought to be dead, returns. When Malèna comes back to town with him, she is no longer the vibrant, confident woman she once was. She is quieter, more reserved, and dresses conservatively. The same women who once vilified her now treat her with respect, as she no longer poses a threat to them. So, how does Freud's theory apply to Malèna ? The film offers a striking example of the Madonna-whore complex in action. At the beginning, Malèna is seen as a Madonna—married, respectable, and admired from a distance. The town's men “respect" her marriage, but not Malèna herself. Renato, though infatuated, also sees her in this light, idealizing her beauty and grace. As her reputation is tarnished and her supposed widowhood makes her "available," the men begin to view her as a whore. They spread rumors, objectify her, and treat her as a temptation rather than a person. Renato's perspective begins to shift after witnessing her assault, as he struggles to reconcile his idealized version of Malèna with the town's treatment of her. Malèna, in turn, internalizes the town's perception of her. Unable to find work, abandoned by her family, and out of options, she conforms to the role they impose on her. The women in town, convinced that they themselves are the Madonnas—pure, nurturing wives and mothers—see Malèna as a threat. Instead of supporting her, they destroy her out of jealousy, enraged that their husbands desire another woman. When Malèna returns with her husband, she is stripped of her sexuality in the eyes of the town, which allows her to be reaccepted. No longer an object of desire, she is once again placed in the Madonna category, her past erased by her return to marriage and propriety. The film is a layered exploration of how women are perceived and judged through the lens of male desire. Watching the story unfold through Renato's eyes adds an additional complexity, as he absorbs the attitudes of the men around him while experiencing his own sexual awakening. Had the story been told from Malèna's perspective, it would have been an entirely different film. Malèna  illustrates the double-edged sword of female beauty—the way it can inspire admiration and desire while also provoking envy and cruelty. Through the lens of Freud's theory, the film becomes an unsettling reflection of the ways in which society forces women into rigid, damaging roles, leaving them little room to exist outside of them.

Welcome to Scene by Scene —where we break down movies, TV shows, and everything in between, one frame at a time. I’m Elisa Broche, an international student from Honduras and a senior studying communications with a concentration in film. I thrive on funky, offbeat storytelling. My watchlist is as chaotic as it is expansive, ranging from the surreal brilliance of JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure  to the razor-sharp intensity of Breaking Bad , with a side of existential absurdity from Rick and Morty . And let’s not forget Banana Fish —because emotional devastation is part of the cinematic experience. ( Yuri on Ice  gets an honorable mention for making my heart race in the best way possible.) But beyond just being a film fanatic, I love stories that matter—the kind that give voice to overlooked experiences, challenge perspectives and leave you thinking long after the credits roll. Whether through the films I make or the ones I consume, I believe storytelling is one of the most powerful tools we have. In this column, I’ll be your guide to what’s worth watching, what’s fun to dissect and what might just shake up your perspective. Expect recommendations, deep dives and probably some unhinged rants about why certain films deserve more love (or less). Because, let’s be real—what else are you going to do in your dorm if not binge-watch something? So, grab your popcorn and let’s take it scene by scene.

On January 27th, 2025, a notable faculty member and beloved Communications professor was awarded the prestigious MLK Vision Award. The award recognizes professors and students who show and exemplify Dr. King's teachings and spirit for diversity, equality, a sense of justice, and freedom for all. The faculty winner of this award was none other than producer and communications professor Wayne Edwards.  Wayne Edwards has been teaching at the university for eight years. He has over 25 years of experience in the Communications and Broadcasting field. Edwards's experience in broadcasting over his long career allowed him to garner expertise in media production, programming, journalism, and the strategic use of technology in media. During this time, Edwards amassed a plethora of accomplishments. Edwards’ work at ESPN during the 2010 FIFA World Cup demonstrated his communication skills. It highlighted his ability to adapt to the fast-paced and dynamic nature of live sports broadcasting. The Emmy Award he received in recognition of his work "ed” reflects his exceptional contributions to the field of media and sports journalism.  That same year, Edwards received the NAMIC Vision Award, which recognizes excellence in portraying ethnic diversity in communications, and the New York Festivals Gold Award, a testament to his outstanding contributions to global media throughout his career.  Despite his significant professional success, Edwards always shares his triumphs, first and foremost, with his family. As a devoted husband and father, he places immense value on the support and love of his wife and children, often celebrating his accomplishments before sharing the news with his colleagues and social media platforms.  "I always share what I've done with the wife and kids," he said, "we’re a team, and my success means success for everyone, so I've always been excited to tell them whenever I've won an award." At the University of New Haven, Edwards has brought his industry experience into the classroom, teaching courses in broadcasting, media production, communication theory, and digital media. His no-nonsense teaching style, coupled with his unwavering commitment to student success, has prepared hundreds of students for the fast-paced, ever-evolving world of media while encouraging them to reflect critically on their strengths and challenges. Edwards quickly became a staple of the University of New Haven's Communications department as a process notorious for teaching his students real-life less related to the field they chose. While most professors approach their students with consistent optimism and support, Edwards has never been afraid to tell the truth as it was.  “I recognize that success isn’t objective and varies from student to student,” he said, “but there have been times that a student would simply not have passed the class no matter how hard they tried, and I've had to encourage students to drop the class to save their GPA,” he said.  Despite not sugarcoating the truth, Edwards always has his student's careers and well-being in mind.  "While I wouldn't want them to drop the class due to mistakes being made since I really want to keep all my students," he said, “sometimes the best choice isn't to try and push through but to step back and reevaluate their path. They find an alternative that suits their learning style more, which is great." Beyond teaching, Edwards stays active in the media industry through consulting and professional development, ensuring he stays up-to-date on the latest trends and technologies. His unique blend of professional expertise, honest teaching philosophy, and commitment to family has not only made him an influential and respected figure but also an inspiring role model in education and broadcasting. "Trust your instincts," said Edwards, "a lot of what you do is going to involve other people, and you need to trust your gut when it comes to making the hard decisions and tough calls."

My brother is nine years older than me, practically making me an only child. He was always going to leave our house and my life—there was no doubt about it. I didn't know that back then because I was too young. My parents constantly bought me new pets to combat the loneliness I faced. My first pet was a bearded dragon named Toothless. We got her when I was in kindergarten. She set the standards for who I would become. I never wanted to blend in, always craving to stand out, and having a pet lizard will undoubtedly make you stand out. I would talk about my beloved beardie on every occasion. She would go to school events and my daycare. Anywhere I could bring her, she was there. For the holidays, I wrote plays for us to perform. In the summer, I filled up Tupperware for her to swim in, and nearly every day, we sat on the couch and watched TV together. She was my best friend. The day she died, my dad still made me go to school. Piquet was a belated Christmas gift. We got him and his brother, Bear, when I was in high school. We went to the store, and when a white ferret with beady red eyes bit me in the face, I knew I had to have him. Piquet did well to combat my solitude, but when I left for college, any loneliness, anxiety and sadness I had tried to suppress came rushing in through the cracks. I found myself falling apart quickly and often. The first time I went home for winter break, I cried. Even before I got home, I cried. Time at my house was frozen in a world I would never be a part of again. It felt like nothing was tying me to the life I used to know except for my disgusting, stinky, no-good ferrets. This year, when I went home for break, Piquet died. He was old, and I knew it was coming, but that didn’t change the fact that I didn’t want him to leave like everyone else had. Piquet saw me make shirts for spirit week in high school, trying and failing to tan in the backyard, and he was there for my horrible musical phase. He met all my friends, even my college roommate. When he died, a piece of my childhood did, too. His death was slow and miserable. He didn’t eat, he couldn’t walk, and all we could do was wait. My Moob was a horrible, terrible creature who didn’t understand that biting hurt. He slept through the vacuum cleaner and was so bottom-heavy he would fall down the stairs when he got out of his cage. He loved to be bounced like a baby and was scared of the bathtub. I knew his ins and outs; he knew I would put him down if he licked my eye. Watching him wither away made me feel helpless, and seeing him become a stranger, losing himself to his illness, was indescribable. The ferret cage is in my brother’s old room. His bed and all his belongings are long gone. The carpet is the same, and his books line some shelves like a ghost of the past. I spent years building myself up in that room, trying to be entertaining enough to capture my brother’s attention. When he moved out, I didn’t want to touch his stuff. Moving everything aside for my pets felt wrong. Yet now, years have passed, and that’s all I know. A small piece of me still expects Piquet to be there. But I know neither he nor my brother will ever be in that room again. And so, I’m going to mourn my dead ferret and my dead childhood. I’ll hold onto Piquet, but my memories are quickly fading. I’ll see him in his Rice Krispies Treat coffin and try to remind myself that he was loved, just as I once was. He was so loved, but I don’t know if he ever knew it. He would get double treats, and I would sneak him into my parents’ bed when they weren’t home so that he could jump around. In return, he would lick the inside of my ear. Prolonged death may be the worst kind. It’s not silent; it doesn’t sneak up on you, and you know it’s coming. You make plans and come to terms with it, yet it doesn’t feel real when it happens. Your bones grow weak and tired until you have to be fed through a syringe. Ultimately, you’ll still get buried in the backyard and find yourself right back where you started.

NEW HAVEN, Conn. — Did you recognize my name? Maybe not, let me introduce myself! My name is Haiden Leach, and I am a senior here at the University of New Haven. Where do I reside on this campus, you ask? Well, I know you didn’t, but I’m telling you anyway! Surprise, it’s the best place ever, our communications department! I bounce between Maxcy Hall and the newsroom in our Bergami Science Center. You are reading this article because I am the new columnist for Horseshoe Magazine , and we are starting on this journey together. Last year, I was fortunate enough to write for our sister media in the school newspaper! I took on the role as the politics editor in our fall 2024 semester, and it unlocked a passion for me that I now want to pursue post-grad education. After stepping down from that role, I was seeking something to fill my time and the void I had in my semester. What I’m seeking in this column is for everyone who reads it to connect with my content. I named it The 2 AM Perspective  because, at 2 a.m., we often have our deepest thoughts. I want to hear from my readers—and anyone interested in writing for me—about what you’d like to see in this column. What’s on your mind? Do you crave life advice from students who are living it? Campus drama? A thought-provoking op-ed to spark discussion? Staff and student recommendations? This space is a shared one—both yours and mine—so let’s make it meaningful together! Ideas are never bad and can be molded into amazing things! For this week’s edition, here are some things on my mind recently, and if you find yourself up for a discussion or looking to drop a comment, please reach out to us on these pieces! Okay, back to it! Parking on campus, we all hate it. If you love it, you are lying to yourselves. We have one of the worst and most unconventional parking systems I've ever seen. I talk to friends who go to different schools and big colleges, at that. No one has parking issues like the Charger community. Sadly, I’m not sure there’s much we can do because staff also need parking, and no more trees need to be dug up for spaces. However, this doesn’t mean the student’s frustration and concerns over why we only have one golf cart operating aren’t valid. These are questions we need answers to, and in my opinion, I know that Steven Kaplan was not walking down from the North parking lot. Here are some tips for my fellow peers: Most freshmen have classes in the morning hours, and from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m., it’s our busiest time on campus with parking. If you need parking, try to get to campus at least 20 minutes earlier than your class to ensure a spot. If you’re commuting and you don't want to argue with other cars, park at North and ride down in our shuttles or our courtesy vans. They operate on a scheduled 15-minute route! Suggestions I think the university should take into consideration are as follows: Don’t worry, I've pitched these ideas to students on campus before, and the reviews were stellar. We have empty lots across from CVS, the CVS lot itself, and the empty building by Railroad Salvage. My idea is to convert these empty lots into one of two things: housing or parking. A parking garage would need to be simply just for commuters or residents who live in the building closest to the garage for convenience and to eliminate the fights on campus. If we do housing, do buildings for lower classmen because they can’t have their cars, so they either catch the shuttle or walk the rocky terrain as we all did once upon a time. This housing addition would possibly make students enrolled now even happier due to the ongoing battle of not having enough spots for commuters on campus. I'm just going to say it because we all think it: Why can residents park on campus? It makes no sense, and those should be the cars at North and commuters and staff on campus. Maybe this is just a 2 AM Perspective , but we all find ourselves cussing out the lack of spots when the clock is inching closer to class starting. As a final thought, I leave my readers with this question that I’m still trying to answer myself. Why exactly did we take those parking spots away for the Sheffield Quad of Shame in 2022?

Asher Duke Mar. 7 2024 Courtesy of the University of New Haven The University of New Haven as an academic institution has existed for over 120 years. With over a century of operation, the university has had a just a handful  of presidents—seven to be exact—with each one contributing something to create the college we attend. Ellis C. Maxcy, PhD. (1932-1937) The university’s first president (then director), Ellis C. Maxcy, Ph.D., had his work cut out for him. Presiding over the young institution (known then as New Haven College) during the height of the Great Depression, Director Maxcy was responsible for keeping the college alive and functioning during a time of great economic strife. The university’s Maxcy Hall (formerly known as the “Main Building”) was named in honor of the late director. Lawrence L. Bethel, PhD. (1937-1953) New Haven College’s second director, Lawrence L. Bethel, Ph.D., further expanded the university’s role as an academic institution. Taking the success gained from Director Maxcy, Director Bethel would go on to pave the way for the further development of the university through his push for accreditation via the New England Association of Colleges and Secondary Schools. Upon his retirement in 1953, Director Bethel would be appointed as the president of the Fashion Institute of Technology (FIT). The university’s Bethel Hall dormitory is named for the late director. Marvin K. Peterson (1954-1973) Upon the appointment of the university’s third president, Marvin K. Peterson, the college would undergo drastic changes in location, construction, and academic achievement. Four years after his appointment to the role in 1958, President Peterson’s efforts to authorize the offering of a Bachelor of Science degree were approved. Just two years later, in 1960, the university moved  its location  to its current West Haven campus through the purchase of a former county orphanage (known today as Maxcy Hall). Only five years later, in 1965, President Peterson would oversee the construction of the Student Center, which remains in operation. In 1966, President Peterson helped the university receive accreditation for baccalaureate programs, which helped boost student enrollment. Just two years later, in 1968, he would oversee the construction of the engineering building. In 1969, President Peterson opened the graduate school program and constructed the first residence hall for its students. By 1970, President Peterson would help rename the school from New Haven College to the University of New Haven. Just a year later, in 1971, President Peterson approved the creation of the athletic complex. Through president Peterson’s leadership, the University of New Haven entered the modern age and began to form into the campus that students attend today. The only president of the university not to hold a Ph.D., President Peterson is honored by the university’s library, which is named after him. Phillip S. Kaplan, PhD. (1973-1991) The fourth president of the university, Peter S. Kaplan, Ph.D., would help ensure that the university grew from an undergraduate commuter college to a residential-based institution. President Kaplan is credited with the expansion  of the university’s residential program via the construction of new dormitories and creating more than 20 graduate programs. Under Pres. Kaplan, the university constructed the Marvin K. Peterson library, purchased Harugari hall, Echlin hall, Dodds hall, Vieira Field, the Robert B. Dodds Athletic Field, acquired the Arbeiter Mäeneer Chor and constructed several dormitories. In 1993, the Graduate School was renamed in his honor. Lawrence J. DeNardis, PhD. (1991-2004) The fifth president of the university, Lawrence J. DeNardis, Ph.D., led the institution into the 21st century . Having served in the 97th U. S. Congress, Pres. DeNardis had the solid political and social influence required for the university’s advancement. Upon his election as university president, DeNardis significantly bolstered the international program, which allowed students from different countries to attend. President DeNardis passed away at age 80 on Aug 24, 2018. Steven H. Kaplan, PhD. (2004-2022) President Steven H. Kaplan (no relation to the previous president) was the sixth University of New Haven president. Under President Kaplan’s leadership, the university would be transformed into the current-day institution . Among the hundreds of changes  that President Kaplan was responsible for are the opening of the Prato and Orange campuses, the establishment of the Magnet School, the creation of the Charger Challenge, which raised over $100 million for the university and opened the Bergami Center for Science, Technology and Innovation. During Pres.t Kaplan’s leadership, 618,679 square feet of new space was constructed, enrollment grew more than 65% and over 40 academic programs were launched. Upon exiting the presidential role in 2022, Kaplan was named the university’s first chancellor and CEO. Chancellor Kaplan resigned from his position on Jul 1, 2023. Sheahon Zenger, Ph.D (2022-2024) Sheahon Zenger, Ph.D., served as interim president at the University of New Haven during a transitional period. Having served as the university’s athletic director for three years before his appointment as interim president, Zenger had the experience required to run the school. Now serving as the university’s Executive Vice President and Chief Operation Officer, Vice President Zenger continues his work as an essential member of the university’s continued success. Jens Frederiksen, Ph.D (2024-Present) The new president of the university, Jens Frederiksen, Ph.D., holds six degrees from Vanderbilt University. Having previously served  as executive vice president of Fisk University, President Frederiksen is an experienced and educated leader. President Frederiksen will follow in the footsteps of accomplished leaders before him, a fact that he acknowledges  and says he sees as a reason to work hard. As the latest leader of the university, Pres. Frederiksen will be watched closely by students and faculty alike, and only time will tell what exciting changes he brings to campus.

Kaylee Salazar Apr. 11 2014 Historical Fiction: There once was an old person who lived in ancient times and did old people things because there was nothing else to do since there was no iPhone, no Facebook, no YouTube, no Instagram, no Pinterest, no notes app, no Tumblr, no fanfiction.net , no linkedin, no mycharger, no canvas, no walmart.com , no TikTok, no Snapchat, no... Adventure: As Harper traversed the thick bush that was the jungle in order to steal the artifact, she realized that she read the date wrong and was supposed to start the quest last year. Sci-fi: Laser tag would ordinarily be a great recreational game for a family, except that people kept forgetting that they were replaced by gamma rays. Horror: Sadie was a walking zombie with her matted hair and crepe skin and green skin beneath her eyes and slow ambulatory gait and moaning and groaning and lack of health care to properly deal with her depression. Purple Prose: She stood there, the wind in her hair, caressing it, licking the strands and writing script with them against the cerulean sapphire skin of the sky that spread across the terrain like silky butter across a warm, crusty bread made with three different kinds of wheat that can only be bought with a coupon on Sundays at 2. Detective On the third box of the fifth page of the calendar, also known as a Tuesday in May, the venerable, dashing leader of the freedom-defined nation, the president, realized that his small, fluffy, war-criminal hamster went missing. The new sleuth that the dyslexia-ridden boss hired was a particular one indeed, partly because he was hairy, and small, and had long craggily nails, and was languid, and ate from every plant that he passed, and walked on all four legs, and clung to branches, and was a sloth.

Abigail Riggins Nov. 7 2024 “Over the Garden Wall” is a Cartoon Network miniseries created by Patrick McHale, aired Nov. 3, 2014. This miniseries follows the journey of the two main characters, Wirt and Greg as they miraculously wind up lost in the forested world of “The Unknown” during Halloween.  The main setting of this series takes place in the woods which is referred to as “The Unknown” by the characters. In the last episode, it is revealed that Wirt and Greg were not lost in a real forest but drowning; they were actively dying.  What their journey symbolized was never specified in the show. However, the miniseries as a whole alludes to the realities of mental health issues and death, all wrapped up in a digestible childlike manner. The Fear of Living and The Burden of Holding on:  Wirt, at surface level, is the older step-brother to Greg. He is full of teenage angst and melodramatics; Wirt is the average angsty pre-teen who laments over the difficulties in his life.  Wirt uses poetry to convey his feelings of loneliness, feeling out of place, and out of control over himself.     “Sometimes I feel like I’m just a boat upon a winding river, twisting towards an endless black sea, further and further drifting away from where I want to be, who I want to be.”  (Elijah Wood, voicing Wirt in “Over the Garden Wall”).  While his wording seems theatrical and dramatic, Wirt’s character is a representation of the struggles many young adults feel about growing up. Wirt has no specified age, but he can be inferred to be around 17-18 years old; he is on the cusp of adulthood.  The National Library of Medicine published an article stating high school junior and senior adolescents are highly susceptible to develop depressive thoughts and tendencies.   Wirt, as an estimated upperclassman resembles the mental struggles and fears many young adults have for their future. His melancholic attitude increases when he is reminded that he and Greg are lost in “The Unknown”. His sadness and anger over his situation is increasingly common in adolescence his age due to the uncertainty… or the unknown, their future holds.  Wirt is not only depicted as a young adult, but a male, furthers the symbolization of the depressive mental state in teenagers. The Journal of Adolescence Health supports that suicide is the leading cause of death in young men .  Societal standards lead boys to struggle or never share their feelings. Wirt using poetry: a complex form of storytelling, to express his feelings, represents the difficulty many young men have explaining themselves and the struggle for society to understand their mental struggles.   In the miniseries Wirt humors that staying in “The Unknown” seems better than going home. Taking into account the idea he represents the depression and poor mental health in young adults, Wirt is deciding that giving into the mental battle is less scary than fighting and confronting the changes and situations happening in his life.  The Woodsman is a tortured man; he is stuck listening to The Beast's rules as he attempts to cling onto the past where his daughter was alive. His refusal to let go, and instead chase after the impossible of bringing his daughter back, is direct representation of the real struggle many people face to let go.  Many people can relate to the struggle of the inability to let go of the past, whether it be a past situation, an old job, or a relationship. For many it is easier to cling to the past rather than face the change that is their new way of life.  There is a sense of safety that clinging to old memories provides. You don’t have to process what you’ve lost and accept what you have left. The Woodsman listens to The Beast against his better judgment for the belief that is keeping his daughter by his side, rather than accepting her death until the very end.     The Only Thing You Have to Fear is… :  In contrast, Greg is the physical embodiment of the fearlessness and sense of invulnerability that young children, pre-puberty, harbor. He treats the journey he and Wirt are to embark on as a field trip and in many cases a fun game.  The gravity of their situation does not sit on his shoulders like it does for Wirt. A study conducted by researcher Patrick Hill, states that this sense of fearlessness young adolescents have can be beneficial when it is time to make important life decisions, because they do not overthink the situation . Greg’s character is representative of the unfiltered enjoyment and the courageous attitude of young children before they fully understand their surroundings and the emotions attached to serious situations.  This can be further supported when Greg attempts to sacrifice his own life without care if it meant Wirt wouldn’t be upset anymore. It’s reminiscent of young children trying to grasp why someone is sad. It is similar to Greg trying to understand Wirt’s symptoms of depression.   McHale refers to Greg’s personal heaven, where he decides to sacrifice himself, as his pure essence  during an interview with Eliza Brooke in The Scumbler. Greg is the embodiment of the young mind before it is burdened with the fears and responsibility of adulthood.  Greg and Wirt are symbols for the two different stages of growing up and the significant changes that life experience and maturity creates, and the decline of joy and confidence due to mental health struggles.  The Most Difficult Journey: Death is a natural topic many young children have questions for. “Over the Garden Wall” expertly introduces death in an age appropriate manner for young minds, and serves as a gentle reassurance for the older, more knowing, audience.  “Over the Garden Wall” packs a punch of symbolism that correlates with the concept of death and spirituality. The placement of the oncoming train used as the force that sends the boys to their near death feels intentional.  Trains as a whole, symbolize a warning of a difficult journey one is about to embark on.  Using the train and coloring it black, alters the meaning. The use of a black train in media is an allusion for the journey to the afterlife or the process of dying. The act of a black train pushing Wirt and Greg off of the tracks and falling to their pending death, reveals that the weird and silly journey we the viewers witnessed, was actually the journey through the inbetween of living and dying.   Death is a common topic that intrigues young children. As they grow, they strive for answers to difficult topics. Greg does not shy away from the situation he is in, but embraces the journey and in some cases seeks out the experiences in “The Unknown”.  Wirt contrasts Greg’s approach. Teenagers and young adults have more fear and apprehension when confronted with death. The unanswerable questions strike dread rather than curiosity, and mortality becomes much too real and imminent. Wirt’s journey is filled with uncertainty and great fear for their situation.  The cartoon uses the song, “Old Black Train” composed by The Blasting Company, during the train scene. The implications of the song are easier to view when breaking it down. [Verse One] There's an old black train a-coming  Scrapin' 'long the iron  You don't need no ticket, boys  It'll take you when its time   The usage of “take” in this context provides the sense that this train ride, no matter what, is inevitable. There is no need for a ticket because when you are ready, the train will be there for you to board for free. This is direct symbolism for the act of dying. Death is one of the few universal experiences everyone and everything will go through at some point in time. Death is a topic that is deemed too taboo to talk or think about, but is still important to understand as eventually everyone will experience it.  [Verse 5] This journey is a long one It'll take you all around Life rushing by your windows Before it lays you down This verse has two meanings linked together. Life flashing before your eyes during a near fatal incident is common. The imagery of staring out the train window watching the scenes pass by provides the connection to the idea of evaluating your life before you die.  There is also a gentler meaning behind this verse. This verse serves not only as an allusion to dying, but provides the gentle reassurance that while death is terrifying, it makes living sweeter.  Life, not death, is the longest journey many will take. Rather than being young and living in fear, enjoying your journey is the most important thing to put your energy into. In other lines there are strong allusions to the point that there is no need to rush to death. In a religious sense it is reassurance that you and your soul will be taken care of in the end. In an atheist perspective, it is reassurance that your body and your belongings will be cared for in the end.  Both views provide the importance to live, because in the end, there is no need to worry, you will be taken care of.  We see this many times with the boys while they are lost. As they enter Pottsfield, a resting place for the dead, many townsfolk tell them they aren’t ready to be there yet, or it doesn’t seem to be their time to join the town.  The Beast:  As expected of a villain, The Beast acts as a force pursuing to hinder Wirt and Greg and stop them from getting back home. He, however, has a deeper meaning than being The Devil in the afterlife.  If Wirt is symbolism for declined mental health and The Woodsman is symbolism for the struggle of holding onto the past, The Beast is depression and failure personified.  Throughout the show He, The Beast, puts all his efforts into straying Wirt off the path home, and keeping The Woodsman chasing the dream of his daughter. He is what makes these two characters spiral into either giving up or straying on the edge of madness doing what he commands.   The National Institute of Mental Health defines major depression as a severe mood disorder that causes the suffering person to have prolonged bouts of sadness, extreme disinterest, and irritable moods.  The Beast’s influence on Wirt causes him to lash out on Greg, and lose all hope and motivation he had for getting home. The animators go as far as to show Wirt becoming overtaken by the forest: The Beasts domain,  after he laid down in defeat. The Beast actively seeped the joy and faith out of Wirt, the same way depression does to the affected person.  The Beast forces The Woodsman to grasp onto the seemingly last moments of happiness he had, forcing him to feel stuck in place unable to move on, much like symptoms of depression making people feel hopeless and compare their life to the past where things were seemingly better.  One Small Step:  The specific choices for Wirt’s symbolism and the carefully curated music feel intentional. The consistent battle of mental health due to depression and struggling to live is shown as a winnable war.  The last episode of this miniseries shows Wirt pushing forward. This character symbolizes the mental struggle and the exhaustion depression causes, yet he refuses to give in and thus brings he and Greg back to life to live another day. While many dark themes were touched upon, “Over the Garden Wall” sends the message that while many aspects of life are harsh and hard to swallow, there is always a reason to keep pressing forward and seek out the joy in life.