By Cameron S.

With over 2 million people behind bars, the United States currently has the largest prison population in the world. According to the Bureau of Justice 3,260 of those are on death row awaiting execution. Ironically, the country that provides the most freedom leads the world in locking people up.

Capital punishment has been practiced in America for over 400 years. For centuries people accepted this consequence. In fact, executions used to be held in public squares for all to see. “An eye for an eye” is a belief that has existed since biblical times. But perhaps Gandhi spoke truth when he said “an eye for an eye will make the whole world blind.” Capital punishment eliminates the option for forgiveness, second chances, and repentance.

Death row is corrupt, unfair, and inhumane. Life is a God-given blessing to experience and we, as humans, have no right to take that from somebody, no matter what the circumstance. Let’s not forget the fact that it being in human hands opens up the opportunity for human error.  There are also the rationalizations of it being a deterrent or a cheaper alternative. How can you not question its existence?

From the ages of 13-17 I managed to familiarize myself with the court system. I was selfish, depressed, and angry at the cards life had dealt me. As a result, I turned to things that allowed me to escape, such as drugs and alcohol. Probation, house arrest, juvenile hall – nothing could stop my descent to destruction.

God’s grace and the perseverance of my parents, gave me numerous opportunities to change my life and become a better person. My parents never gave up on me. I always wished they would so that I could do what I want, but that never happened and because of that, today I am completely different. “Don’t quit before the miracle happens.”

Repentance can happen to anyone, and through my experience I know now this to be true. I know there are some of you who are reading this and thinking is this guy serious? These people deserve what they get. But let me challenge that with saying, where would you be if you never had second, third, or fourth chances? Many of us have got away with horrible and heinous acts. People in jail are there because they didn’t get away with what they had done.

Capital punishment is not a deterrent for future murders; studies have shown that capital punishment has no effect at all. According to a 2002 FBI Uniform Crime Report, “. . . the South repeatedly has the highest murder rate. The South accounts for over 80 percent of executions. The Northeast, which has less than one percent of all executions in the United States, had the lowest murder rate.” Texas leads the US in executions. Former Texas Attorney General Jim Mattox, who had presided over many of the state’s executions remarked, “It is my own experience that those executed in Texas were not deterred by the existence of the death penalty law.”

Supporters of the death penalty claim that executing their fellow citizens is cheaper than imprisoning criminals for life. The facts prove the contrary. According to The New Press “it is three times more costly to execute a prisoner than it is to keep them in a single cell at the highest security level for 40 year.” In Texas, “sending a killer to death row costs an average of $2.3 million,” reports the Dallas Morning News.

This method of dealing with criminals only perpetuates the cycle of violent behavior. How can you expect people to listen to you when you’re doing the same thing they were doing? It’s the epitome of hypocrisy!

Capital punishment is faulty in nature, as it relies on the fallible nature of human beings. Room for human error is huge. According to The Nation, “Between 1973 and 1995, seven out of 10 death-penalty cases were thrown out on appeal due to flaws in the trial.”

Countless studies have proven that the death penalty in the United States is riddled with bias – such as class injustices. The facts speak for themselves — Amnesty International reports that “95 percent of all people sentenced to death in the United States could not afford their own attorney.”

Racial injustices are also present. Not only do the poor suffer from our legal system, but minorities do as well. A recent study at the University of North Carolina has proven that the “odds of receiving a death sentence rose 3.5 times among those defendants whose victims were white.” Bias against the defendant as well cannot be hidden. According to the Death Penalty Information Center, “between 1995 and 2000, 75 percent of the federal cases in which juries recommended the death penalty involved black or Latino defendants.”

How can we call ourselves the “land of the free” with a straight face while remaining one of the few first-world countries that still executes its citizens? Is it comforting to know that “the United States, China, Iran and Saudi Arabia account for over 80 percent of executions” according to Amnesty International?

By Ron R.

As students get ready to apply for colleges, there are a tremendous amount of decisions which need to be made before actually arriving on campus.

In today’s society, the majority of teens feel obligated to attend college because of how common it is to depart from high school and go straight to a high-end university. The process of applying for colleges creates an abundance of stress and confusion which can easily be avoided if the decision is made intellectually. But putting all emotion aside and maintaining full focus on getting into the school which is best fit for your aspiring career can be very difficult.

College takes up such a substantial portion of a student’s life that making this decision is crucial. Students search for schools which will help them find the career that they would like to have for the rest of their lives. Deciding which major the student wants creates added stress to the already demanding high school curriculum.

Teenage life is filled with new experiences and curiosity, which creates a lot of distractions for students getting ready to attend college. The stress students endure throughout high school is a direct result of the struggle to balance academics while maintaining a social life. This added commotion during the pressure to make an imperative decision creates a dilemma. Not only does the decision have to be made about which geographical area the student would like to attend, but making application deadlines, writing college essays, and attaining letters of recommendations is nerve wracking.

As sophomores enter their junior year, they see seniors getting acceptance letters from their schools of choice. They start to feel pressured to choose a school for themselves. Although it is healthy to have a dream, the amount of stress brought upon the students to achieve their goals is immense. Balancing a high school life while keeping up with the résumé-boosting extracurricular activities can be very difficult to cope with. Once a student finds a college that they like they become motivated to achieve academically.

When I started to apply for schools, I had my mind set on one particular university which I was very interested in attending. I was so sure that I would be accepted that I only applied to one safety school which I wouldn’t have been too thrilled to attend. After a couple of weeks the acceptance letter arrived from my safety school. My confidence rose as I awaited the decision from my school of choice. The four weeks were up… I checked the status of my application online and to my surprise saw two devastating words: “Admission denied.” My world shook as I scrambled to find local schools to attend.

After coming to terms with my situation, I began to realize how unimportant it is to attend a high-end university during the first semester of college.

Very successful people have made a living and a name of themselves without having to pay any sizeable amount of money. Renowned Academy Award-winning actor and producer Clint Eastwood attended Los Angeles Community College in Los Angeles before he became such a powerful name in the film industry. Jim Lehrer, famous broadcast journalist during the 1970s, who appeared on MacNeil/Lehrer News Hour, attended Victoria College in Victoria, Texas for two years before he got big in broadcasting. Finally, Gaddi Vasquez, director of the Peace Corps, attended Santa Ana College, in Santa Ana, California, before achieving his title. These people have made significant impacts on our society today, and followed through with their goals without going into financial debt.

A lot of colleges’ academic environment doesn’t match the physical appearance. What looks great on the outside–beautifully cut green grass, newly paved sidewalks, and big buildings –doesn’t match up to the small percentage of people leaving these colleges with careers in line. A comparison of the education that professors provide at “high-end” schools such as Seton Hall or Widener University with various community colleges shows the education quality difference doesn’t match up to the financial dissimilarity.

Through the process of choosing a college, I have learned how important it is to look at what colleges really have to offer rather than looking at the general appearance and size of the school. I have also learned to set priorities on which schools I would like to attend with a secure backup plan and to find out the percentage of students who leave the schools with their career of choice and a degree.

Recently, our journalism team spent some time watching the ground-breaking documentary about gas drilling, Gasland. This is Cameron’s response.

Gasland is a perfectly orchestrated documentary that captures the attention of its viewers instantly. Josh Fox, director of Gasland, begins the documentary by describing his childhood growing up in Pennsylvania. He tells of the sights and smells of his years spent exploring and venturing throughout the woods along the Delaware River. Fox explains how he is personally being affected by gas drilling and how he’s not just another guy doing something for the money and hype.

Throughout the documentary, Fox travels across the country and interviews people who are affected by “fracking,” a method for extracting oil and natural gas. The common theme with all of these people is that they have been taken advantage of by multi-million dollar companies and were all left with unsanitary water. The companies refuse to admit that they are the cause of contaminated water experienced by many residents after drilling took place near their homes. Studies done by the Environmental Protection Agency show that the water contains some of the same chemicals they are using to drill, but the companies are still denying that drilling was the cause. Very few people are getting the help they need and are left to find alternate water sources.

Before seeing Gasland, I was completely ignorant about the hardships these people are experiencing. The documentary reminded me that humans are capable of incredible greed and we can become blind to how our actions affect other people. As I watched this film I began to realize that these issues were happening within hours of where I live. Fear quickly ran through my body as I began to ponder whether this would affect my water source. I knew I had a responsibility to spread the news and do something about it now that I had become aware of this issue. It wasn’t about me anymore; it was about how future generations would be affected and what would become of Earth as we know it. This is a serious issue that everybody should be concerned about and work towards making a difference in the way we use our resources.

By Roderick O.

On November 11, 2009 my parents sent me to the True North wilderness program in Vermont. At first, I tried to fight the fact that I was screwing my life up. Then I realized that I was afraid of the unknown.

I was scared because I was unsure what my wilderness program was going to be like. I assumed the worst. When I arrived there, I could have kicked, screamed and pleaded with my parents to take me home. However, I decided to stay. As a result, I acquired new coping techniques and learned how to put my skills and knowledge to good use.

On my first day of the program, I was handed a curriculum that I had to complete in order to graduate. There were a large number of challenges that tested various aspects of my character in many different ways.

There were four levels in the program. The first level was the most revealing and the most frustrating. I had to overcome the fact that I was living in the woods and I was afraid. Alone and scared, I did the only thing I could do: think. I thought about anything and everything I could to keep my mind off the harsh reality I was facing.

To advance from the first level, I needed to start my own fire with flint and steel and cook my own meal over the flame. The process of starting this fire was one of the most frustrating things I have ever done. It was incredibly aggravating. I had never had to manually start a fire before! I had to learn patience in order to succeed.

After I advanced from the first level, I got to join the six-person group. In group therapy sessions, I learned about communication. I became able to differentiate between listening and hearing people, grew aware of others’ feelings, and learned to express my true emotions with rigorous honesty.

By the time I was ready to graduate from the program, I was viewed as a natural leader; a “diamond in the rough.” Some abilities I honed during the wilderness program were determination, persistence and efficiency. I was also motivated, which helped me get through the program and inspired me not to give up. Without love as an incentive to better my life, I wouldn’t be where I am today. I have a caring family that I know will always be there for me, great friends who have helped me through many tough situations, and an appreciation for the fact that I don’t take for granted the fact that I am young, and in good physical condition. That is something I will continue to keep consistent and learn from.

I have come to realizations about myself that have made me who I am today. I have learned from my mistakes and now know how to make decisions that will move me toward a brighter future.

By Kristin R.

Getting involved in performing arts here was not a slow process for me. Coming in, I was skeptical about getting myself involved. I was lost in thoughts of self-pity and egotistical judgments on everyone and everything at the school. But I have always loved drama and it didn’t take long for me to change my mind about getting involved. Within my second month here, I found myself on stage crew for the musical Godspell. In no time I was putting myself into the production at full swing. I had spent the past years of my life confusing my dreams with drugs; turning my passion for performing in for my addiction.

At home I found my love for the stage at a very young age. I was happiest when I was performing and singing. Even as a little kid I found the adrenaline rush of the curtain opening and seeing the crowd exhilarating. I surrounded myself with music as much as I could; constantly play the old piano in my living room or singing for hours on end locked in my room. As I got older I began to change. It became less about ability and passion for me and more about the lifestyle. I started losing sight of the dreams I had since I was little. Suddenly rehearsals seemed to get in the way of partying. Writing lyrics became impossible sober. I was too blinded to see that I was letting go of the one thing that had always brought me happiness in my life.

When I arrived at The Family School I was fresh out of a wilderness program and extremely annoyed. I did not want to be here and I definitely did not want to get involved in the activities here. I figured I wouldn’t be at the school very long anyway so there was no point.

On my first day my buddy told me I could sit in on a Godspell rehearsal. Honestly, I slept and doodled on the lonesome piece of paper I had and paid little to no attention to the rehearsal. Later I was told that students on stage crew got to miss class. My name was one of the first on the list. Though my motives were not exactly pure, the happiness I got from being involved in a show was starting to resurface.

I joined chorus. I tried out for the play, Barefoot in the Park. I danced with show choir. By the time the tryouts for She Loves Me came around I was in a totally different mindset. I was more excited than ever to finally do what I loved most again, musical theater. When I found out that I had gotten the lead I was ecstatic. I was in heaven with the long rehearsals, the costume fittings and the freshly printed scripts.

The experience I had in this particular musical was rather…unique. It was definitely nothing like what I had in mind. The directors pushed for cast unity and honesty. It was pounded into our heads over and over again to apply the principles of the program to our roles. I would leave rehearsals frustrated and exhausted, not knowing what more to do, how much harder to push or where to put my focus.

Finally, as a cast, we got it. We understood and we found the connection as a family that we had been lacking up until the few days before the show. We resonated and related with our own characters and everybody else’s. The experience I had in the musical here is one I am sure I will never experience in the real world.  I learned that the true purpose of performing is to serve, not to feed your own ego. As our director said, “Professionals are amateurs who never quit.”

By Joe T.

He’s daring, he’s courageous, he’s motivated, and he’s 61 years old. Alan Moore has started kicking for Faulkner University’s football team, making him the oldest athlete in the college’s history.

When Moore, who has not played on an organized sports team since 1968, found out he was eligible to play for an NAIA school, he immediately jumped at the chance to join the team’s football squad and re-attempt participating in a sport he loved.

Well, congratulations, Mr. Moore: not only did you prove you could accomplish a goal, you showed every person in the world that chasing dreams is realistic for any athlete, no matter how old or young, big or small.

And no, Tike Barber, chasing dreams does not include bailing out on your team, chastising them after they win the National Championship, or remaining dishonest off the field then attempting to make a comeback.  This editorial is for mediocre athletes like me, who are self-conscious and don’t believe that striving to achieve whatever you desire is possible.

If a 61-year-old man is playing with crazy, testosterone-filled football players three times younger then he is and giving his all, there’s a valuable lesson to be learned. When there is an inspirational blind teenage boy skate boarding around like a pro, and a 70-year-old man swimming the English Channel, you know that no matter what defects or issues your body possesses, rising above it and achieving your dreams is a definite possibility. 

The real inspirations are the men and women who realize it’s never too late to overcome your issues, whatever they may be, and get back out and play. I remember reading in an issue of Sports Illustrated several years ago about the story of Texas Ranger Josh Hamilton’s rising, falling, and recovery in life. After near expulsion from professional baseball, and more than two years of suspension, Hamilton realized that the past did not matter. He refused to give up on himself.

Hamilton is now one of the most elite and gifted baseball superstars in the history of the sport. What if he was too scared to attempt to make a comeback? What if he thought he couldn’t do it? What if they wouldn’t accept him back? He probably thought of all these possibilities, but he ignored them and gave himself a chance.

Alan Moore will miss a field goal this year, and Hamilton will strike out more than once. This is inevitable, but the admirable fact is that they won’t throw their helmets and sulk on the sidelines. They will wake up the next morning, get back out on the playing field, and start practicing, because they are chasing a dream.

So all you kids who are too nervous to go play, relax. You are just as skilled and talented as the athlete next to you. All superb men and woman in the sports department were like every single one of us at one point. They overcame whatever aspects held them back, and showed that they could shine.

By Ron R.

As I approached the familiar, fragile boy for the last time I noticed the immense impact I had on him. It was time to say goodbye to the kid with whom I had spent the past week forming a life-changing bond.
“I’m really going to miss you, Ben. You know you mean a lot to me, right?” I said.
He looked up at me with tear-filled eyes and said, “I’m going to miss you too, Ron.”
When I left for the week-long Muscular Dystrophy Association (MDA) camp to volunteer as a counselor this past August I wasn’t aware of the emotional transformation I was going to experience. All of the volunteers were assigned a camper, each with different types of Muscular Dystrophy. After a day of training I met my buddy, Ben, for the first time. He is ten years old and suffers from Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy (DMD).
DMD is caused by a lack of dystrophin in the muscle cells, resulting in a slow decay of all the muscles in his body. The life expectancy for someone with DMD is reduced tremendously: Ben will only live to about 23.
I became aware of the short life expectancy just hours before I met Ben. Having that information in mind when I met him made it nearly impossible for me to smile for our intake picture when he arrived. I put my emotions aside though, and smiled as camp director Melissa White snapped our picture and we moved on to the first of several stations of bonding activities that were set up for the counselors and campers.
As we arrived at the first station, Ben kept his head down in an attempt to avoid conversation (he was very shy). This was Ben’s second year at the camp and I was formally notified about the rough time he had opening up during the previous year. Once I explained to him how I used to play Mega Man his eyes lit up as he began to tell me how much he loves his Playstation Portable. The excitement in his eyes told me that a week  of fun was about to begin.
We arrived at the cottages where Ben and I would be staying for the week and I unpacked his clothes. As we walked inside, he noticed the water-retaining bandana sitting in the sink. I turned my back to say goodbye to his mother and by the time I turned around he had soaked the bathroom in water and was pretending the bandana was a pair of nunchucks! I didn’t want to laugh until I saw his beaming face. I smiled and chuckled to myself as I cleaned up the room.
“Did you know that 90% of the people who have my disease die before the age of five?” Ben asked.
“You’re a trooper, man; you made it,” I commented.
Noticing Ben’s optimism regarding his disease gave me a clear insight about how good I have it and how ungrateful I have been my whole life. This boy goes through his day-to-day life living happily, without a care in the world, while I dwell on problems that look minor in comparison.
Another one of the most moving experiences I had at camp was when, from the corner of my eye, I noticed Ben sitting alone. I walked over to him and realized he was next to the self-setup bowling alley. I set up the bowling pins and put the ball on his lap. As he pushed the ball towards the pins, I noticed the smile, which appeared as joy, filled his soul. Seeing Ben have so much fun and get a strike made me grin from ear to ear.
The talent show on the last night was another one of the experiences where all I could do was smile. Our cottage decided to cover Van Halen’s “Hot For Teacher.” The counselors in our cabin spent hours rehearsing the dance for this song as the campers practiced their “air instruments.” All the counselors stood in front of the crowd and attempted to copy the dance moves from the music video. As we all laughed at our failed efforts to dance in sync, we walked off the stage, admiring the campers’ enthusiasm.
After literally being the arms and legs for Ben for a full week I was humbled by the way I react towards situations, and my daily life has changed completely. The petty arguments and resentments that arise in my life are more easily pushed aside. I realize how lucky I am to be able to do things as simple as dressing myself. I feel much more inner serenity and have learned to take advantage of every day.

By Becca W.

My nose. My hair. Those poor, well-meaning features that earned my ancestors oppression and discrimination. They’ve tried, through the years, with honest effort; they’ve persistently done what noses and hair are supposed to do, never causing me any intentional harm and remaining doggedly attached to my head. I should pity these traits for their unappreciated consistency, but I’ve spent my entire life trying to make them change.
In a world of flat-irons, blow-dryers, frizz-fighting miracle serums and chemical hair straightening procedures, it’s no wonder I’ve learned to loathe my twisted tresses. It’s nothing new: my mother’s generation soaked their hair in egg whites and olive oil and used clothing irons and ironing boards to achieve the pin-straight styles that remain in vogue today. I recall, from a very early age, sitting on the floor watching with admiration as my two older sisters flat-ironed their hair, taking painstaking care to eradicate every last crease. They weren’t vain; they simply acknowledged that the world just doesn’t accept frizzy hair. When it rains, we guard our manes with umbrellas, hats, and scarves. When it’s humid out, we try to stay in.
Sometimes it’s hard to know where to draw the line. I don’t think my mother and sister would endure rhinoplasty because of narcissism. I watched my sister suffer through adolescence with a nose that didn’t fit her face and low self-esteem as a result. Plastic surgery isn’t a whimsical decision: it takes thought, money, and a lot of  healing time. I know what it’s like to dread photographs and hate my appearance. It’s incredibly painful. Socially aware women acknowledge that there are rules about beauty; we shouldn’t look down upon those who speak openly about largely-latent laws. Rules that were once implicit still exist, regardless of whether we deny them. Furthermore, those who go to great lengths to conform to these standards deserve understanding rather than condemnation. Women are not to blame for wanting culturally proportionate faces.
Maybe it isn’t even the Jewishness of my nose that bothers me. After all, the bridge bump is minimal, and I was told back when I was modeling that it fits my characteristically Hungarian face. With high cheekbones, full lips, and  almond eyes, I’d look cartoonish with a little button nose. My face would devour it.
The problem is that I have a strong nose. It isn’t ashamed of itself, and it certainly isn’t hiding. The nose sits, self-satisfied and content, directly in the center of my face. It has dignity and impenitent self-respect: it communicates a confidence with which I can’t bring myself to empathize. My big features embarrass me a little. I feel greedy, like they’re stealing space.
I think the hair and nose issues stem from the same root issue: women want to be contained and regal, to personify the sultry, ladylike allure for which society tells us we should strive. We learn that we have to be modest about our myriad  accomplishments and to restrain ourselves, but having uncontrollable hair makes it difficult to portray that image.
Not that my Semitic DNA has proved itself  defunct.I know that my heritage has blessed me, as much as I’ve critiqued, deprecated, and unappreciated it. I have a network of brilliant Jewish women supporting me: women who fought against adversity and social stigma; women who were unafraid to redefine beauty; women who held a rainbow of graduate degrees before higher education became a fashionable necessity. Gutsy, intelligent women who were what they were even when guts and intelligence were considered undesirable female traits. Bold women who unapologetically embraced and pursued their ambitions. Women with chutzpa.
Jewish women are overall a very resilient breed. Our people have been exiled and abused for over six thousand years; I suspect that we’ve become genetically accustomed to that treatment by now. It’s in our programming: we’re just so used to prejudice that resisting it comes naturally to us.
It’s hard enough being Jewish without having to worry about the sensitive issues that come with being a woman as well. However, this seems to have worked to our advantage: fighting two battles just meant doing a little more of the same, like running a post-race victory lap.
If I’ve learned anything from my cultural diagnostics it would be that beauty is subjective, and confronting the politics of my identity has taught me to be able to love myself as an individual in every aspect.

By Becca W.

It’s not particularly healthy to drink alcohol. It’s unhealthy to use drugs. It’s very unhealthy to use tobacco. However, breaking into a monastery and stabbing a Roman Catholic priest, attacking your mother with a machete, and tearing a radar unit out of a police car with your teeth bring the word “unhealthy” to new levels.

Actions like these are just a few of the insane behaviors exhibited by users of legal yet highly toxic synthetic drugs called “bath salts.” They resemble methamphetamine and PCP in effect but are thus far legal in many states (even though state governments have begun to issue bans on these substances).

While it is true that prohibition of a substance often has the opposite effect (that is, when a product is made illegal, more people want to acquire it through the black market), banning bath salts is banning more than just a drug. While many products are available for use or ingestion, such as alcohol and tobacco, they are potentially harmful to the user, explicit warnings are disclosed on the packaging and sale of these commodities is restricted. Bath salts’ toxicity and the aggression, paranoia, and violence exhibited in their users make this group of drugs much more dangerous—especially when consumers interpret bath salts’ legality as latent governmental permission to get high.

Additionally, unlike other materials that are sold legally for other uses but are misused by drug abusers, bath salts have no legitimate purpose—other than for a high. Bath salts are also highly poisonous—there have been more calls to the Poison Control Center because of bath salts than for many illegal drugs. Their labels do warn “do not ingest,” but these chemicals have no function outside of ingestion! They were developed for drug users and were marketed for drug users, and the only reason there is a warning on the label is so the government can’t say there isn’t one.

What concerns me, however, is not the legality of the substance—it’s the emotional health and values of the consumers supporting the makers of bath salts in the first place. No marketers would sell these products if there were no customers to cater to, and the fact that so many people want to spend their money on these products in the first place is alarming. In these economically unstable times, why would people buy bath salts? (Please note that these drugs are more expensive than many street drugs.)

We have learned from the society we have constructed and chose to live in that we were created with powerful desires (desires for sex, intoxication, money) that must be contained if we are to lead good lives. However, we still require the government to restrain our inherently bad desires for us. If our government’s regulations don’t specifically outlaw a new (and highly dangerous) substance that has just hit the market, many of us interpret that as permission to ingest these products freely. We have rendered ourselves incapable of making good decisions: we will take whatever is accessible.

This stress on excess is not prominent only in the drug area. The philosophy of “more for less” is shoved down our throats everywhere. We lust after savory one dollar Big Macs, drooling over their glistening oil; we worship outlet stores, where we buy designer clothes and purses in the hopes of gaining social stature; we want to get as much as we can and give as little as we can. We buy radar detectors for our cars so we can speed and we scrutinize laws looking for ways to get away with doing whatever we want to do.

Society’s restrictions have made us feel confined and now we want to use whatever means available s o we can squeeze through the loopholes. We buy everything we see on commercials; we assume the government is up to date and well informed and we don’t question corporations’ motives.

The danger of “bath salts” is not so much the chemicals’ toxicity, but more the ease in which one can acquire them. In an age of having everything at our fingertips, we have forgotten to examine what’s being handed to us.