CULTUPsALLy IN6PT
By OSCAR BEISERT
Columnist
ODBIO2@PSU.EDU
Being loosely raised Lutheran, I
have never exactly dreaded religion.
In fact, because the churches I
attended were very indicative of the
“let it be” philosophy and largely
focused on the importance of faith,
most of my religious endeavors have
been positive.
Yet somehow, there have always
been various cocksure individuals
working to uproot my enthusiasm.
Have you ever met someone
who was raised in a very strict
atmosphere wherein every nuance of
life’s frivolities was outlawed by a
religious rule and/or standard? In the
same right, did you notice that such
individuals were governed and, in
most cases, suppressed by the use of
such strictures?
Recently, I found myself becoming
acquainted with a very mean spirited
person who directed most of his
negative energy at deriding religion.
After some mild inquires, I learned
that it was the harsh regulations of
By HILLARY ISLEIB
Columnist
HDLI 1 I@PSU.EDU
Every morning on my way to
work at the Pennsylvania House of
Representatives, I used to cross the
pedestrian bridge from City Island
to the capitol, casually watching the
Susquehanna River travel beneath
my feet.
Sometimes the river was dark and
frantic and sometimes the river might
be as light and serene as a cloud.
Yet, no matter how the river made its
way, the water always flowed in the
path of least resistance.
I was thinking about the
Susquehanna River during my long
Saturday run. I am training with an
organization called Team in Training
to run a half marathon to raise $4OOO
for the Leukemia and Lymphoma
Society. During my team’s Saturday
run, I was struggling to make my
way up a particularly daunting hill.
I could feel my form slipping and
everything getting heavier. Bowing
my head to avoid looking at the
distance yet to be run, I cursed the
hill under my breath.
My Team in Training Coach, Brett,
ran up from behind me.
“Just take it easy.” He said.
“There’s no hurry to get up this hill;
you’ll get there when you get there.”
Once I finally crested the hill and
A reflection on a
By RYNE CRABB
Sports Reporter
RECI6I@PSU.EDU
Historically, this space has been
dedicated to the writers of the
Capital Times standing on their
soapbox, preaching their opinions
to a typically uninterested choir.
Instead of complaining about
campus life, forcing liberal beliefs
upon the student body, or some
generic battle of the sexes article, I
chose to take my first, and probably
only, opportunity to write about
Lyndi Starr.
Lyndi passed away on March 20,
2007 from complications that arose
from the birth of her first child on
March 10. She was 23 years old.
I could write another 1,000 words
contemplating the reason or greater
purpose the un-measurable loss
suffered by so many, but since
X 81-MONTHLY PONTI
his childhood that had propagated
his outlook.
However, I couldn’t understand
how even the most fanatical
upbringing could invoke such a
torrid feeling of hate. Could my
acquaintance not see that it was
merely the people and not the
doctrine that were inflicting such
persecutions upon him?
This question lingered in my mind
inconclusively, but around Christmas
time it was finally answered.
For the longest time, my paternal
grandmother had been complaining
to me via phone about a particular
(non-Lutheran) cousin of mine
whom regularly opined her religious
views to the point of futility. Until
Christmas I had been ignoring my
grandmother’s complaints by letting
them go in one ear and out the other.
In the midst of delightful holiday
reunions, the opening of presents,
and the stuffing of bellies, a
favorite cousin and I were engaged
in a delightful and frivolous
conversation —about nothing, but yet
everything —when her older sister
approached me.
could think about something other
than running, I realized how much
harder I was making everything
(running included) on myself. I
thought about how often I wait until
the last minute to do schoolwork
or how I take on too many
responsibilities at the same time, or
how I love to be in control and fight
to stay in control—losing precious
energy all the while. Relaxing a little,
I finished my personal distance best
of 5 miles and decided I had to make
a few changes in my life or I would
always be fighting uphill battles.
So, I decided to change from
running the Country Music Half
Marathon to the Rock ’N’ Roll Half
Marathon in San Diego, California
on June 3. The change allows a
little more training time, and most
importantly, allows me to raise
more money to fight leukemia and
lymphoma. Besides, it’s just like
Coach Brett said, it’s okay to take
things a little easier; I’ll run my race
when I’m ready to run my race.
Fighting against a hill or any other
challenge won’t help me get through
any easier.
Ten miles and a week later, I’m still
running strong! But, the fundraising
has been the best surprise. Feeling
discouraged, I complained to one of
my teammates during a run together
that I hadn’t gotten many hits on
my fundraising website. After we
I’m limited to 650,1 wouldn’t
accomplish my goal by doing so. I’d
rather go on about why you should
celebrate the life of an
amazing person.
If you graduated from Middletown,
you probably knew Lyndi. If you
went to school here at Penn State
Harrisburg when the cafeteria
was the Lion’s Den, you probably
know her mom, Sherry, from her
bartending days at Mid-Town Pizza
or Shakey’s Bar and Grill. Maybe
you don’t fit in either category, and
you were just a listener to Lyndi’s
show on 105.7 The X on Saturday
nights from 6pm till midnight.
Either way, I’d bet my first year’s
salary if you met Sherry or Lyndi,
you remember them.
The world we live in has a wide
variety of people; some are square
pegs trying to fit into round holes,
The look on her face provoked
a rather sneaking presentiment.
It should have prompted me
to ignore her and continue my
conversation, but instead, I paid heed
to her interruption. “How is your
relationship with Jesus Christ,” she
asked with what were seemingly the
most piercing eyes she could muster.
. Suddenly, my notion to ignore was
up seated by my other relatives who
were surrounding us —because at
the sound of her question, everyone
quickly retreated from the area.
While desperately working to
understand the implication of her
interrogatory, I queried my mind
for the most soothing answer, but
instead, I popped-off with a rather
incorrigible response. The words
hadn’t fully exited my lips when
the regret of their indication started
to bear on me. Unfortunately, my
self-inflicted impact was nothing
compared to the harangue I was
about to receive.
I am the sort of person who has
blind faith in God, one who happens
to have been bom into a nice, quiet
religious sect, and most importantly
finished a strong three miles, I gave
her a high-five and returned home
where I found that a friend I hadn’t
seen since my freshman year of
college had donated $lO.l am still
amazed how just $lO can change so
much for someone. Running seems
so easy when I know that so many
generous people are supporting
this cause.
Every dollar makes such a
difference to save lives from blood
cancers. I can train to run a million
miles, but what saves the lives
of cancer patients is the financial
support from sponsors like you. So,
please make a donation on my secure
website at <http://www.active.com/
donate/tntva/tntvaHlsleib>.
I’m in this race for the long run. By
the time race day rolls around, I’ll
have run close to 250 more miles,
some uphill and some downhill. But
now, when I run up hills, I’m not
afraid to see how much further I have
left to go. I keep my eyes intensely
focused on the top of the hill —my
goal. The same goes for fundraising.
I won’t stop until I’ve reached
$4OOO. Now I know, however, that I
don’t have to fight for all my goals at
once. Perseverance isn’t about speed
or control; it’s about consistency.
And, with your support, a little time,
a lot of faith and generosity, together
we can celebrate life and help
fight cancer!
life lived
and some can be grouped together
in harsh but true stereotypes. These
stereotypes can cause arguments,
hate crimes, or even wars. However,
no matter what your political or
personal beliefs, there is a certain
“type” of person that everyone
appreciates. Sherry and Lyndi are
those types of people. If you are
having a bad day, they are the type
of person you want to be around.
Surrounded with their company,
you were amazed to find out they
were mother and daughter, not
just because of Sherry’s youthful
look but because of their sister-like
relationship. They were two of one
of a kind: unashamedly optimistic
and unbelievably charismatic.
You might know somebody like
Lyndi. Think of the first person you
call when something goes wrong,
the one who is always the life of any
FICXIION
an individual who gives credit
to all of those who believe in a
higher power. Because of this, I sat
for my cousin’s verbal onslaught
with tolerance in mind —the same
tolerance that I later wished she
would have granted me.
As I listened to her talk about
her relationship with Christ, my
turn down the wrong path and her
firm belief that I should return to a
virtuous life, she seemed to become
more and more engaged, and with
every word of her effrontery, I
became all the more enraged.
How dare she presume to know
the density of my heart and for
whom it is beating? And just then
my mind was shifted to an even
more inflammatory individual. If I
couldn’t even handle half an hour
of my zealot-of-a-cousin, how
could I blame my aforementioned
acquaintance for his disdain after he
had endured entire childhood
of fanaticism?
Even though my cousin was in
no way perfect and had many past
indiscretions to her credit —or should
I say discredit, her lecture still left
Student questions racial
profiling in Harrisburg
By JOHN FOX
Staff Reporter
JTFIS3@PSU.EDU
During the winter of 2006,1
decided to conduct an anecdotal
social science experiment. The
focus of my study was Muslim
discrimination in the city
of Harrisburg.
I consulted with several Muslim
friends and acquaintances and
they all gave me their blessing.
Therefore, I dusted off my copy of
the Qur’an, brushed up on Islamic
language, donned a kufi, and
walked the streets of mid-town and
downtown Harrisburg as a
white Muslim.
One of my first observations was
that white people seemed to be
frightened of me. I could smell the
fear. It was as if they wanted to cross
the street to avoid me. On the other
hand, I felt embraced by the African-
Americans in which I encountered.
Now imagine this: a white Muslim
walking the streets of Harrisburg,
kufi on head, backpack over
shoulder and speaking the words of
Allah as handed down to the Prophet
Muhammad (praise be unto him).
I spent a great deal of time around
the federal buildings, the Capital
complex, and the state library during
this experiment.
Approximately three weeks into
my experiment, an SUV pulled
up beside me somewhere on 6 th
street. An FBI special agent from
the Harrisburg field office (whose
and no
social setting, or the excitement that
is always missing in your life when
they’re not around. You might know
this person by their smile, their
laugh, or their enthusiastic reaction
to anything you say, no matter how
boring it might actually be. Those
traits are three of many reasons why
I know I’ll never forget Lyndi.
I wish I could finish this article
gushing about the personalities of
Sherry and Lyndi, because I haven’t
said near enough for anyone to
appreciate how much the world
needs more people like them. I
can’t imagine the pain Sherry is
going through, having to raise her
grandchild without its mother, her
daughter. I think of the family 1
hope to be starting soon with my
girlfriend, who will be about Lyndi’s
age, and the shell of my über-tough
guy image breaks down. I’ll pray for
me a little bit unsettled. I chose
to cloak my anger, and eventually
smile and nod. As she finished
pontificating, she concluded by
expressing her total fulfillment with
life, a desire to perform mission
work and a disinterest in worldly
possessions. However, later that
day, when my religious cousin was
departing, I couldn’t help but notice
her swinging a Brighton bag over her
shoulder. Instantly, I knew that her
propensity was geared more towards
being judgmental than it was for the
missionary barrels.
After realizing the need for an
attempt to empathize with someone
before passing judgment, 1 decided
to further my philosophy of life.
Regardless of my cousin’s views or
those of my acquaintance, I became
aware that of all cultures, the culture
of religion is the one deserving of the
utmost delicacy.
So with that said, I ask you, are we
free thinking Americans really as
accepting as we need to be; are we
evolved beyond the futile attitudes
of times past or are will still just as
judgmental, but in a different way?
name is being withheld for my own
protection) as well as an unidentified
State Cop jumped out of the SUV.
The FBI special agent called out
to me, “John Fox?” I said, “Yeah,
that’s me.” The FBI agent then
ordered me into the SUV. The two
of them began grilling me about a
bomb-threat, which they claimed
was called in from a pay phone
at Strawberry Square. I had no
knowledge of such an incident, so I
had no qualms with cooperating. I
was scared out of my wits that I was
being tracked down and questioned
by an FBI special agent.
I was told someone that looked
like me called in said bomb-threat.
They proceeded to take me to the
FBI field office in Harrisburg. Upon
arrival, I was escorted to the Federal
Marshals office where they took
my palm prints in the old-fashioned
ink and roller pin style. They then
dropped me off somewhere in mid
town Harrisburg. The special agent
gave me his card and said he would
be in touch.
He never called and I was charged
with nothing. Do you know why?
Because there was no bomb-
threat. The FBI simply wanted a
file on me because they had been
observing a Muslim walking the
streets of Harrisburg. Can you say
PROFILING? All this proved my
hypothesis that Muslim prejudice
is alive and well in the city of
Harrisburg. In spite of religious
discrimination, stand strong and be
proud. Assal’mu ‘Alaikum.
gone
Sherry, because even the strongest
person in the world needs a little
help in situations like this. And I’ll
pray for Lyndi’s child. I pray that
she’ll realize how great her mother
was, and how great her grandmother
was, and 1 pray that the DNA of
Lyndi’s charisma and caring soul are
infused within her child.
Finally, I pray that she is able to
touch as many people in her healthy
and long-lasting life as her mother
was able to do in twenty-three short
years. I hate to end such an article
with a borderline cliched quote, but
it seems appropriate to remember,
that one’s life isn’t measured in how
many breaths you take, but by how
many breaths you have taken away.
Lyndi lived 23 breath-taking
years, and I was honored to have a
few minutes of my life be part
of hers,
President's
Corner
By ARIEL O'MALLEY
SGA President
AEOSOO2@PSU.EDU
Welcome back everyone. I hope
you have all had a wonderful
spring break and are ready to finish
out the semester. This article is
really important so please hang
in there and read all the details
before coming to a conclusion.
Also please bear in mind that the
following information is simply
ideas in the works and not official
as of yet.
Penn State Harrisburg is on its’
way to formulating a new policy on
smoking. This new policy will be a
push for a “Tobacco Free
Campus.” Therefore there will be
new rules on the smoking of not
only cigarettes but all
tobacco products.
There will no longer be any
smoking in front of the Olmsted
building, or any other building on
campus. The main reason for this
is because it is a health problem for
students, faculty, staff, and anyone
else to be walking through the
smoke. Then there is the
simple fact that if one has chosen
not to smoke, there is no reason for
them to have to constantly walk
through and deal with the smoke.
Since there will no longer be
any smoking allowed in front of
the buildings there will have to be
“designated smoking areas.” These
areas, and these areas only, will be
the locations that one may smoke
in. There have been various ideas
proposed as to where
these locations will be. The most
popular idea was to have these
areas be in the parking lots.
Another step associated with this
issue is when the new policy will
be instated. The most agreed upon
idea for this is to instate the new
policy when the construction on
the front of the Olmsted building
begins. Because the construction
will be underway the
front of the building will be closed
off and those who smoke would
have to find a new location to do so
anyways. Therefore what
better time to designate specific
areas for the smokers to use, than
when they are forced to
move anyways?
There is also an idea being tossed
around about having a drive to help
those who smoke on campus, quit.
The campus is prepared to have
support groups for those who are
quitting, as well as information
about the best ways to quit. There
will also be information available
about funding for products that aid
in the quitting of smoking such as
Nicorette and similar products.
Now that I have tried to give you
the general idea I would love to
hear your feedback on the issue so
that I may pass your feelings onto
the group that is making decisions
on this issue. If you have any
questions, feel free to e-mail me
(aeosoo2(frpsu.edu) or stop by my
office (E 136).
While I have your attention I
would like to do two things. One, 1
would like to wish you all luck in
finishing up this semester. 1 know
how hard it is to stick it out and go
to class once it becomes gorgeous
out, but we’ll all get through it
together. Two, I would like to
invite you all the greatest week of
events this campus has ever seen!!
Rites of Spring 2007 (April 16 th
-20"') promises to be a wonderful
week, I hope to see you all there!!