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The Blue Banner January 26, 1995 Opinions o S( v L 3 ta d: C (I h£ th c n th w ] Fi fii 0; act fr ha Jil th ha an nii to to th( \ 1 los Oc 1 Oc doj inj Pr doj vie No 12 Wi 1). T Int 11, 15, (15 Ge( 10, defi 14- ert) •12) The Blue Banner The student newspaper of the University of North Carohna at Asheville Editorial Board Lizzy Pressley Ten Smith Kristi Hamby Erin Kelly Lat Ray Kim Sluder Editor-in-Chief News Editor Features Editor Sports Editor Photo Editor Copy Editor Staff Kelly Cole, Emily Guidry, Todd Hagans, Christin Hall, Christy King, Andrea Lawson, Jeremy Letterman, Tanya Melton, Kara Merz, Jack Newton, William Rothschild, Chris Small, Chris Smith, Brandon Treadway, Wendi Wolfe Holly Beveridge . Alice Hui Loren Stewart Advertising Business Manager Circulation Mark West, faculty advisor Weather report provided by UNCA Department of Atmospheric Sciences Editorial The Snow Policy, or Rather, Lack of One Two days ago, students woke up to find the ground covered with snow. While the initial reaction of students may have been, "Alright, no class," that hope was immediately dashed by the realization that the university has no standard snow policy. Some commuter students braved the icy roads to get to class only to discover the class they had risked their lives to attend had been cancelled. Others had to use extreme caution just to walk from the parking lots to the buildings. One student even had an accident upon nearing campus that, fortunately for her, was not as serious as it could have been. The fact that the university has no standard snow policy causes students, commuters in particular, to make difficult decisions: risk the ice to come to class or risk losing points for not showing up. While some professors inform their classes of their own personal snow policy, those policies are not recognized campus-wide. There fore, even if a student knows he or she can miss one class, that student must make the decision of whether to try to attend other classes. Although our area no longer suffers the threat of harsh winter weather as it used to, the university should nontheless be prepared with a policy should such an occasion arise. The Blue Banner is the student newspaper of the University of North Carolina at Asheville. We publish each Thursday except during summer sessions, final exam weeks and holiday breaks. Our offices are located in Carmichael Hall, room 208-A. Our telephone numbers are (704) 251 -6586 and 251 - 6591. Our campus e-mail address is UNCAVX;:BANNER. Nothing in our editorial or opinions sections necessarily reflects the opinion of the entire Blue Banner editorial board, the faculty advisor, or the university faculty, adminis tration or staff. Unsigned editorials reflect the opinion of a majority of the Blue Banner editorial board. Letters, columns, cartoons and reviews represent only the opinions of their respective authors. The Blue Banner welcomes submissions of letters and articles for publication. All submissions are subject to editing and are considered on the basis of interest, space, taste and timeliness. Letters must be typed, double spaced, and must not exceed 300 words. Letters for publication must also contain the author's signature, classification, major or other relationship with UNCA. Hope, the Humanities, and a Piece of Quartz David D. Marshall Columnist Many lifetimes ago, 1 walked the winter grounds of Dachau and saw ttie ovens. The camp was quiet that day and the cold Alpenwind from the south ed died across the main assembly area as I made my way across its expanse. Lowering my head to blow a warm breath into my mitted hands, I caught sight of something on the ground. I picked up and examined the ob ject, and as I stuck it in the pocket of my trenchcoat, I won dered at how anything could re flect light on such an overcast day. The fundamental question driv ing the Humanities, explained the professor, deals with those things essentially human that differenti ate us from the other species. The study ofthe Humanities is the quest, not for knowledge per se, but for enlightenment about our identity, our purpose, our destination. A Mensch. That’s what Bernie would have called the university lecturer. That was his word for anybody he liked. As a former professor of Literary History at Berlin’s Friedrich-Wilhelms University, Bernie would have enjoyed this lecture. Frequently, he would talk of his academic days of many years ago, before the war. He would also talk at great lengths about the shock of those first days after the war when he arrived in Panama, my native country, and how learning Span ish had been so difficult for him. Only once did Bernie talk about what had happened to him dur ing the war. One day when 1 was twelve years old, he rolled up his shirt sleeves and showed me the tattoo on his forearm. 1 looked up and told him that my father had one, too, on his upper arm. "A key to understanding other cultures is understanding ourselves and our own tradition. The deeper our sense of ourselves and our tra dition, the deeper is our sense of humanity. The deeper our sense of humanity, the more able we are at penetrating the superficial walls of difference that hold us like caged animals to our own spatiotempo- ral worlds of affectation, guilt, hate, distrust, and fear. ” Hans Isaac Bernstein, Ph.D. Bernie was the local Mr. Wiz ard. He taught all the neighbor hood kids how to build radios, how to fix their bikes. He would help us with our homework. This, he would say pointing to his head, I can give you; this, he would continue, pointing excit edly to his chest, this in here you have to find yourself. He showed us how things worked. The quartz crystal, he confided to us one day, is the heart of the radio. As scholars of the art ofthe Hu manities, continued the orator, ours should be a process of discovery; a process that envelops us and defines our identity in terms ofthe search for human nobility and dignity, in our past, in our tradition, as well as in our own lives. On my twelfth birthday he showed me his tattoo, and we were alone and I could see his struggle. I am, he said, number 429017, and I could tell from the marks on his arm that this was indeed so. My neighbor in Germany, Herr Boehm, was an old, semi-retired farmer who had served in the German army durifig the World War II. Several apple trees grew around the house I rented. I would give my aging neighbor’s wife as many apples as I could collect. She, in turn, would bake me apple cakes, apple fritters, and apple strudel. Herr Boehm would frequently invite me over for a powerful apple wine he made himself. Despite his thick "my poem," by imelda sue Erin Ryan Columnist MY POEM by Imelda Sue The pain gushes out like your mamma’s old laundry water whoosh whoosh Mamma comin’ outside with her print dress and friendship bracelet and orthopedic shoes And you shout in your squirm worm misery “Hey, mamma, why ain’t you listenin’ to me? Why don’t you care? Ain’t nothin’ keepin’ me from running, runnin’ away into that cold dark unknown - Mamma.” But she doesn’t hear. So you run, run hard, into the house Tears pouring down your cheeks like melted creamsicles And the emptiness fills the room as you Pull the trigger and miss. Copyright 1993 Reprinted with permission from Imelda Sue BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH: Imelda Sue (last name unknown) was born in 1979 into a small unnamed farming community in northern Arkansas. Her aptly titled “My Poem,” written at only thirteen years of age, was recently compiled into a collection called “The Collected Works of Imelda Sue,” and is available from Ban tam Books. Here’s what the critics have to say about “The Collected Works of Imelda Sue”: “Brilliant! The world sees a re markable new talent with the discovery of the poetry of Ms. Sue. It is haunting ...” - The New York Times Sunday Book Review “A remarkable achievement. Ev ery person living owes a debt to the literary genius oflmelda Sue.” - The Atlantic Monthly “Imelda Sue’s ‘Collected Works’ more than makes up for being a little on the thin side with its probing sentimentality and its insight into the human condi tion. Ms. Sue is a visionary for our time.” - The San Francisco Chronicle From Franz Liebshen: The Meta physics of Color: Light and Dark Imagery in the Poetry of Imelda Sue: "... it is imperative that we first examine the conflicting emo tions apparent in Sue’s relation ship with her mother. When Sue first mentions her mother, in line 1, she chooses to present her by referring to 'mamma’s old laundry water,' thus establishing a series of negative associations within the reader. In spite of this beginning, however. Sue imme diately turns from the gloomy metaphor of laundry water and paints her mother in a succession of bright, colorful images, such as 'print dress' (line 3) and 'friend ship bracelet”'(line 5). Sue has by now thoroughly confused the reader as to the nature of her familial relationship. We no longer know whether to envision a healthy, pleasant situation or one fraught with tension. Finally, Sue makes her intentions plain with the introduction of 'ortho pedic shoes,' (line 7) a forebod ing construct that implies a sense of frailty or decay ..." Spring 1995 Lit. 325 Contemporary Ameri can Poetry Dr. Bill Weinman SYLLABUS: W 18 Jan Introduction F 20 Jan Eavan Boland, “Ghost Stories” p.457 M 23 Jan Carl Dennis, “Tues day at First Presbyterian” p.466 W 25 Jan Imelda Sue, “My Poem” (handout)* F 27 Jan Thom Gunn, “The Man with Night Sweats” p.474 M 30 Jan Eleanor Wilner, “Bat Cave” p. Bavarian drawl and my Spanish accent, our High German was coherent enough for conversa tion. “When men understand what each other mean, they see, for the most part, that controversy is either superflous or hopeless. ” Cardinal Newman, sermon at Oxford, 1839. On traditional German holi days Herr Boehm would always make a point of having me over for dinner with his family. One Thanksgiving Day he came over to my house and asked me if Thanksgiving was an important holiday in America. Yes, I re plied, sehr wichtig. Very impor tant. He said, he had thought so. They had prepared me a feast. The night I returned from Dachau I told him about Bernie and what I had found. We both drank too much that night. These days when I think of Bernie and Herr Boehm, of apple strudel and apple wine, of Dachau and Auschwitz, when I consider Bosnia and Chechnya, I take out that piece of quartz I found so long ago and still mar vel at how'’it manages to shine even on overcast days. David Marshall is a junior major ing in political science. NIGHTLINEJan. 26, 1995: Ted Koppel Interviews Poet Imelda Sue TK: Wow. Every time I read this, Imelda - may I call you Imelda? IS: I don’t care. TK: Well, every time I read this, I am absolutely bowled over. Your language ... the way you express things ... it’s just phenomenal. How, at age 13, did you ever - as the San Francisco Chronicle puts it - gain such “insight into the human condition?” IS: I don’t know. TK:I mean, most girls your age are interested in things like (heh heh) boys, clothes, and hairspray ... but you seem already to be able to concern yourself with the deeper truths of life. IS: I guess. TK: You’re, what... 15 years old this year? IS: No. TK: Oh. Uh ... I’m sure we’re all eagerly awaiting another volume of poetry. Are you working on any new writing projects? IS: I have to go feed the hogs now. End Interview Erin Ryan is a junior majoring in creative writing.
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