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(11/24/09 4:29am)
In the past few weeks of debate concerning the tuition increase, people have been over-careful. Scared of offending the North Carolina residents, out-of-state opponents of the bill have tip-toed around the issue. The proposed increase has settled on 5.2 percent for both in- and out-of-staters, which ostensibly is fair to both groups of students. But the reality of nonresident’s $1,127-increased bill hits way too hard. And people have been afraid to argue the real reason why. Let’s be real, people. I’m from Raleigh, and I shouldn’t be the first one to say this: The reason we shouldn’t financially punish out-of-staters is because they’re smarter than us.Oh, snap. Do you remember your college application? If you are from Fayetteville, your GPA and hard-earned SAT scores and the essay you wrote about your mission trip to Bolivia were put in a different pile than ones sent in from a senior in Colorado. Figuratively, anyway. Nonresidents apply under a strict quota and are therefore held to much higher standards than the rest of us. Forty-three SAT points higher, to be exact. Of course, then comes the age-old “SAT’s don’t measure intelligence” argument. In an online comment to a Daily Tar Heel article that quoted this statistic, user John Black said: “scoring 43 points higher on the SAT does not entitle you to moan and groan about how much ‘better’ you are in article after article. Maybe it’s just me, but I can not tell the difference among my friends who scored within 40 points of each other.” Well, the admissions department certainly can. And while SAT performance might not be a good basis for choosing friends, it’s a great way to choose incoming freshmen. Because when it comes down to it, you’d probably rather be lab partners with the genius from Maryland than the stoner from Greensboro.Sure, we hate it when they ruin the curve in our chemistry class, but all in all, smart people are an asset to our school. And I speak as an in-state student when I say that.After all, isn’t that what this tuition-based protectionism has been about? Providing a quality education for its taxpayers? Well, listen up, General Assembly: Tuition caps on in-state students have the opposite effect. And if it came down to it, I’d rather pay more tuition than devalue my diploma. If we dissuade nonresident students from attending the University, we will be doing just that. Think about what a diploma means. In one sense, it’s like currency — only worth a lot when people believe in the backing behind it. If a piece of paper from UNC-Chapel Hill means a solid education under the guidance of excellent professors and intelligent classmates, then employers will view it as such. If not, then you might as well print out your credentials from a hokey online “university.”It might be too late to save our nonresidents from this latest tuition hike, but the next time one is up for debate, North Carolinians should also speak out. An attack on the wallets of those who raise the caliber of the University is an attack on us, too. Opposing out-of-state tuition hikes: So easy, an in-stater could do it.
(11/11/09 4:19am)
I secretly like musicals.Probably shouldn’t have said that, right? Whenever I tell people, they give me looks like I’ve just told them I’m in a Nickelback tribute band or have just expressed an interest in naked ice skating. Musician friends of mine shake their heads and judge me. It’s not real art, they say. And furthermore, it’s kind of embarrassing. But why? Because the music is catchy? Because there’s dancing? Because the drama kids were the ones we all made fun of in high school?When I saw Pauper Players’ “The Wild Party” last week, there were as many adults in the audience as students, and it was way too easy to find seats in the tiny Union Caberet. Embarrassing, for a well-done production. The stigma our society has against musical theater is stupid and prevents people from seeing performances they may enjoy. Let’s examine the common excuses: that “Hairspray” and its ilk are unrealistic, less artistic than traditional drama or music, and that the number of eyelinered men in the cast make our straight male friends reluctant to attend shows.On the first point, I have to agree. Of course musicals are unrealistic — but that’s the point. No one’s friends break into song in an attempt to solve their problems (and if they do, I’d suggest finding new friends). But that suspension of disbelief makes a show like “Wicked” 500 times more exciting to see on stage than, say, “Death of a Salesman.” Sure, fantastic scenes don’t mirror our day-to-day existence: They hint at something greater, more interesting. As for the pooh-pooh-ing done by “real” artists and musicians, I’d say they’re jealous. Good musical thespians are like triathletes, able to strike a chord, then strike a pose — then break into a tap dance. The multitasking it takes to pull off every coordinated song and dance number deserves respect if not praise. They also aren’t afraid to make a fool of themselves. Orating “to be or not to be” takes guts, but the true heroes of show business are able to pull off much sillier lines. In last week’s “The Wild Party,” Jessica Sorgi belted out, “I planned a well-rendered, one-gendered lesbian love story/With good old-fashioned sex in every line!” It was one of the best songs of the show, but I certainly would have blushed if I’d had to sing it. Whenever I mention an upcoming show, my guy friends are first to come up with “very important appointments” that mysteriously conflict with every performance. Do you blame them? A single act of “West Side Story” is worse than “The Notebook” plus some episodes of “Grey’s Anatomy” in guy cred. But that’s dumb. Some of the most famous musicals have all of the elements of popular action movies: there’s a bunch of torture in “Phantom of the Opera,” “West Side Story” ends with a gang fight, and even “The Sound of Music” has Nazis. If guys still complain that “Sweeny Todd” isn’t for them, I suppose they could go back to watching our tight-pantsed, eye makeuped football team dance around on TV instead. The way I see it, musical theater is an overlooked art form. People are too unfamiliar with it to like it, and too scared of seeming dorky to give it a try. But you don’t have to be that way.
(11/02/09 4:49am)
At first glance you might think UNC’s visual arts students get the short end of the stick. You’d be wrong. Sure, they have to buy their own paint and clay, and their art lab is farther down Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard than Carolina North.In fact, as a musician whose biggest inconvenience is having to re-rack stands after orchestra, I originally felt vicariously enraged for my fellow artists-in-arms when I heard where their art lab was. Aren’t sculptors people too? Why not make the philosophy department hold their classes two miles north of campus? But after I visited the art lab, I changed my mind. Every person I met there had a deep appreciation for the space and the community it provided.To get from campus to the art lab, which is used by 60 to 100 students each semester for sculpture, ceramics and 3-D courses, it’s easiest to take the bus. Unfortunately for me, that meant hauling myself up to Rosemary Street and Columbia Street to catch the 7:41 a.m. NU — which came about 20 minutes late. Yeah, that happens all the time, said several members of Kia Carscallen’s 8 a.m. Intro to 3-D Design class when I ran in, harried. In fact, the buses were rarely on time, they said. And though they said the art professors who taught at the lab were understanding about tardiness, my guess is their on-campus professors aren’t so nice.Nevertheless, the 12 students who were seated casually around three big tables didn’t seem too annoyed.In fact, these students looked much happier than those in any other 8 a.m. course I’ve seen. “They should have a shuttle,” junior Andrew Amolegbe said, and the other students laughed. “Yeah,” one repeated. “An art lab shuttle!”Although he admitted that the distance was inconvenient, Amolegbe said he liked the lab’s location. “It’s a different atmosphere,” he said. “It’s less stressful.” All of the students seemed at ease, drawn together for a common purpose: to create art. At the beginning of the year, students in this class were assigned random materials to create a project out of, designing pieces made of toothpicks or even soap. Later, they learned how to use different wood saws to create frames.The unfinished pieces stacked around the rooms displayed the range of the students’ work. Giant clay sneakers stood in a line waiting to be fired, and long metal spikes bent in the shape of a human-sized birdcage lay outside. A sign hanging from a candy sculpture read “Do not eat!”As I walked through each room, I was increasingly aware of the uniqueness of the work that surrounded me. Although my memories of the early alarm clock and frustrating bus ride weren’t fading, I began to understand the connection everyone seemed to have to this one-story building.In fact, the students I talked to agreed that the biggest problem about the art lab was that it was really hard to find available classes there. “I want to take a class here next semester,” said senior Christine Lin, “But it’s hard to get in, especially for non-majors.” Lin is studying biology. This means that some of them will only be able to take one or two classes at the art lab. I guess that’s the real thing they have to complain about.
(10/14/09 3:53am)
I guarantee you’ll sleep through tonight’s UNC Symphony Orchestra concert. No, we’re not playing Bach. As part of the University’s 10x10 project, in which 10 new works are commissioned for 10 different UNC ensembles in — you guessed it — 10 years, Michael Gandolfi has written a symphonic work about the formation of dreams.Using data from a machine that charted peoples’ brainwave patterns as they snoozed, Gandolfi’s “Of Angels and Neurones” mirrors the different nightly stages of sleep. The music flows from drifting off to dreaming to something called “sleep spindles” — high-amplitude waves that jerk the sleeper awake. As a certifiable “orch dork” — I play flute and piccolo in the group — I’ve enjoyed learning the piece, especially as Gandolfi has been here to work on it with us this week. But the piece itself represents more to me than (20-something) minutes of notes.It’s the future of classical music. For all but a small group of my peers, classical music is something our grandparents listen to: old, slow, boring. I already hear the protests. “But I’m a cultured Carolina student!” you say. “I enjoy Rachmaninoff! I saw the Nutcracker! I’m not like that!”Yes, you are.We may have our favorite tunes (Who doesn’t want Pachelbel’s Canon played at their wedding?), but by and large college students are not consumers of classical music. No composers won awards at this year’s VMAs (although I’m just sayin’ Mozart had one of the best requiems of all time!). Beethoven isn’t played at the Student Recreation Center. The age of the industry worries people in the business: Who will buy opera tickets in 30 years if the median age of concert attendees is 48? It used to worry me, too, that every other ad in the N.C. Symphony playbill was for nursing homes. But when I called Gandolfi to interview him about his sleep piece and the future of the industry, he posed an interesting question: “Is there ever a complaint that we don’t have 60- or 70-year-olds hanging out at pop concerts?” Well, huh.It’s a stage-of-life thing, not a flaw in the business, he said. Young people just haven’t had the life experience to “get” classical music.“It’s like seeing a new city for the first time,” he said. “It’s unfamiliar.”And it makes sense: Pop, rap, rock ‘n’ roll — these genres are so ingrained in our ears that listening to the next top 20 song is comfortable, like we’ve already heard it before.“Classical music is an acquired taste, so it takes time to become familiar with it,” he said. “Today’s 20-year-old might be interested in it at age 60.” And to spark interest, Gandolfi said, people should approach the genre with an open mind. “It’s a common misunderstanding that you have to understand classical music,” he said. “It’s not about understanding, it’s about appreciation.”He finished by saying, “There will always be a population that enjoys classical music. If I’m wrong, it would have died a long time ago.”It makes sense. Even if young people aren’t ready for Berlioz now, they may be in a few years — given the proper exposure. But only time will tell. For now, I can just encourage students to come hear Gandolfi’s work tonight. It might not be the REM you’re used to, but you might like it.
(10/05/09 3:47am)
Today I celebrated the one-month anniversary of dropping my e-mail address from the honorsinfo3 listserv. And it feels great.For the past two years, the honors program has consistently disappointed me, underwhelmed me and made me question whether our University doesn’t deserve something at least a little better. But it wasn’t always like this. When I got my acceptance letter in 12th grade, I was overjoyed. Not only had I been admitted to the University itself, but with my admission came an invitation to the most elite academic clique, the honors program.I wasn’t quite sure what this entailed, exactly. Being an honor student in high school had given me GPA inflation, sporadic doughnut days and a bumper sticker for my mom’s car. At UNC, the perks could only be better, right? At first they were. I got preferential housing to live with my new roommate, who was also in the program, and a breakfast at the Carolina Inn. I took a cool honors creative writing class and thought to myself, this is great.But then again I was a freshman. I still got lost on North Campus sometimes. As time wore on, I found it increasingly hard to find honors classes that fulfilled my academic requirements. I had finished all of my general education stuff, and there were very few classes relating to my major. There were no more free breakfasts, and every day the listserv spammed me with service projects and guest speakers that seemed to have limited appeal. So, unable to take the required two classes a year, I dropped out. Eight months later, after multiple unsubscribe attempts, the listserv finally let me go. Free at last! The whole ordeal is pretty sad. Many of my friends who came to Carolina as excited honors neophytes also dropped the program their sophomore year. Call us cynics, but with double majors and extracurriculars, we don’t have time to take the latest interdisciplinary philosophy course. And if we wanted to, we could just sign up on our own. UNC’s honors classes are preferential, not exclusive. If non-honors students can also enroll, what’s the point? Those still on the listerv say that it’s being able to say you graduated with honors. But wait — can’t you do that anyway, by writing a thesis? I am no longer worried that not being in the honors club will put a black mark on my resumé. But I still regret that the program wasn’t more appealing. At other colleges, honors programs have exclusive housing, priority registration, specialized advising. (The advising I had pre- and post-honors dropout was identical.) If UNC is going to draw in the undergraduate talent that it wants, our honors program should step up its game. To move forward, the honors program should look into a more wide range of course offerings that fit into students’ academic goals. It should explore exclusive offerings that set it apart from the rest of the University. At the very least, something could be done about its listserv. UNC’s honors program has the potential to be a great asset for our University, but if it can’t retain its students, its use is severely limited.
(09/21/09 3:09am)
Due to an editing error in this column Hannah Thurman’s e-mail address was listed incorrectly. Thurman’s e-mail address is hannahthurman@gmail.com.The Daily Tar Heel apologizes.
(09/08/09 3:43am)
The first Saturday night of my freshman year, my friends and I consulted the maps we’d gotten at C-TOPS and made the long trek up to Franklin Street to see “Superbad.” Before I’d lofted my bed or memorized my PID or figured out that the last three words of the fight song weren’t “Rah, rah, rah,” I’d already had my first real Carolina experience: going to the Varsity Theater. The Varsity — which closed this summer after more than 80 years of Carolina students showing up late and talking through the previews — was an icon. It wasn’t very flashy, with its two screens and glass-framed concession stand, but it was as much of a Tar Heel tradition as hating Coach K. Its position on Franklin Street made it a landmark. It was on the way to the P2P stop, not to mention Pepper’s Pizza, and every Friday night, hordes of students clustered around the box office.Over the past two years, I saw more than a dozen movies at the Varsity. I went to see “Juno” with my friends and “Moving Midway” with my political science class. Last Valentine’s Day, my boyfriend and I joined about 80 other couples “aww”-ing over “Slumdog Millionaire.”Watching films there always had a very “Carolina” feeling; it was always at least half-filled with students. To me, it was as much of a campus theater as the Carolina Union Activities Board movies at the Student Union, with the added advantage that people usually didn’t yell out “that’s what she said” every four minutes. It was also convenient. Now, if I want to go see the latest blockbuster, I have to choose between driving to Southpoint to sit in an audience with every preteen in Durham or threading my way through one-way streets to the Lumina, which will have inevitably sold the last ticket to the yuppie couple in front of me. But apparently, plans are in the works to save the Varsity from the wrecking ball. Community members have come up with ideas to remake the space into an arts center kind of like the one in Carrboro. It would take a while to do, of course. These days, few people have the money to go out and see films (case in point), let alone shell out for a fundraiser. But I bet it could be done. Some support from the University wouldn’t hurt, either. I know we’re also short on funds, but maybe they could donate a few pennies from the revenue off the nonreturnable course packs I just bought — or scrimp a little on lighting Kenan Stadium like a Christmas tree the nights we don’t have games. Kidding, kind of. In any case, I believe a Varsity Extreme Makeover could happen (maybe we could just call those people from ABC and have them fly us to Disneyworld for the duration of the construction) and that a community art center would be an asset to everyone at Carolina. Well, almost everyone. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for independent films — that is, pretending I’ve watched them so I can sound cool at parties — but I’ll still miss the Varsity. It was a Franklin Street icon, a mainstay of my social life at Carolina — and I don’t think I’m the only one who feels that way. I’m looking forward to what renovations could bring, but until then, on weekends, you can catch me begrudgingly sitting through the CUAB Union shows — which sometimes make for a long night. That’s what she said.