Grace E. McDonald's Thoughts

For JMC-406: Commentary and Blogging, I published 43 blog posts and over 100 tweets.

When the semester started, most of my ideas came from the prompts assigned to us by my professor. I couldn’t use the excuse of, “I don’t know what to write about.” I was inspired by my experiences, my journalism adventures, my faith and my family.

As far as who influences my style, I don’t follow the national newspapers enough to idolize big name reporters, but I do respect Mary Jane Skala, a reporter at the Kearney Hub. I discussed my appreciation for the integrity behind her reporting and how her voice shines through in her columns.

My career depends on deadlines, but I often procrastinate for many of my assignments. It’s a pattern I’ve tried fruitlessly to break out of, but I just cannot write without a sense of urgency. That’s when creativity serves me the best.

I was determined that this class would be different. With more practice, my writing flows easier. I didn’t let perfection get the best of me.

Since I’m a college student, I’m immersed in campus life and the problems faced by young people. I often wrote about the pandemic, my Antelope experiences and issues pertaining to UNK.

I would prefer to write every blog post with a serene view and a cup of coffee, but many of these posts were written on road trips, at 10 p.m. in my bed or in the Antelope newsroom.

At first, reading my classmates’ blogs felt like responding to discussion posts, but I was impressed by their writing abilities. As an editor, I read materials from only a handful of students in my department. I learned what is important to my classmates and who they are on the inside.

I was very reluctant to use Twitter, but I understand the importance of promoting my work. I regret not promoting this blog on Facebook for my family and community members.

I did not enjoy analyzing other writers and their works. I know it’s important to learn from the best. Still, I suffered from writer’s block with those posts. Writing about COVID-19 also burnt me out a little.

I am proud of my editorial post titled “Time for UNK to ‘Be Bold’-er with better campus signage”. After this post, I used the student newspaper editorials as an opportunity to benefit campus. I feel fulfilled when I incite change with my writing. That’s why I enjoy journalism.

Other than this post, I enjoyed writing my “Dear Theresa” posts and sharing about my reporting adventures. I think one day I will come to appreciate my COVID-19 posts in the future. The pandemic has shaped me as a reporter.

I’ve changed as a writer because I learned more about who Grace McDonald is. I’ve also become less of a perfectionist, and I enjoy incorporating photos and videos. I also felt honored to read my classmates’ material.

I miss choosing my topics. As a child, I wrote short stories based on my imagination. I used to write light-hearted and funny columns for the Grand Island Independent in my high school days. I want to do more of that in the future, but I’m worried “I won’t have time.” I need to make time.

People are dying of COVID-19. We are in the midst of a worldwide worker shortage. Human trafficking and school shootings happen right under our noses. Wars are waging across the ocean. And gas is expensive.

Yet, I smile at people when they walk by. I start conversations with strangers. I joke around, and I see the good in others.

Therefore, there must be something wrong with me, according to the haters.

I’m happy, and that is incredibly hard for some people to understand. So I decided to shed some light on why I decide to look on the bright side.

“I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

Maya Angelou

Maya Angelou gets it. This is how I approach my interactions with others. I want people to remember me fondly. I want them to take those good feelings and be inspired to spread them.

I radiate positivity because I never know what people might be going through.

That’s why I try to remember names, I hold doors open for people and I’m a shoulder for others to cry on. When I greet people, I ask, “What’s something you’re looking forward to this week?” or “What’s something good that happened today?”

It’s not because I don’t want to hear about the bad or because I’m putting on a show. It’s my way of pulling my friends out of despair. I’m happy because I want the people I care about to find happiness too.

“I’m not an idiot, Black. I know there are bad men in power and the world is not an equitable place — but you can’t throw morality in the garbage just because life’s tough!”

Superman

How I view the world is very similar to how Superman does in this quote.

Superman literally gets his power from the sun — a life-giving source of energy. In the meantime, Batman broods in the darkness, overlooking the filthy city of Gotham. Both heroes get the job done, but I prefer Superman’s outlook.

I’m happy — not ignorant. Sometimes people look down on me because I’m “naive”. When in fact, I know very well that there is bad in the world. I am fully aware of what the stakes are in high-pressure situations.

As a journalist, I hear plenty of the bad news. Sometimes it’s a relief to focus on the good news for a while. At the same time, there needs to be a happy medium. Just because I’m positive does not mean I am out of touch with reality.

I acknowledge the bad, and then I move on. I do not dwell on it.

“Joy is the echo of God’s life within us.”

Blessed Columba Marmion

My faith in God is a constant outpour of happiness for me. How can I be sad when I am a daughter of an ever-loving Father who awaits me in heaven? He has blessed me with so much to be happy about, such as a good childhood, a wonderful family, fun friends, educational opportunities and a sense of purpose. And so, every day, I try to glorify Him.

I am happy because I want people to feel God’s love through me.

I’m also human, and I can’t be happy all of the time. Life has thrust me into some pretty dark places. Through those experiences, I learned that I need to share my negative emotions with others. Otherwise, I will bottle them up until they overflow.

I also feel defeated when I cannot “save” my friends or always serve as a silver lining.

Some also mistake my optimism for naivety or “being fake”. They roll their eyes ask, “Why are you so happy all of the time?”

The truth is, happiness is genuinely a part of who I am. So to the haters, don’t drag me down, don’t blot out my sunlight and don’t poop on my party.

Compared to spring 2020, fall 2020 and spring 2021, this doesn’t feel like a “pandemic semester.”

This would probably pain my concerned professors to hear, but I have travelled across the state, attended weddings, visited family members, went on dates and hung out with my friends freely. All of my classes are in person, and I live out most of my days mask-free. When I go back home, I don’t have the fear of infecting my family or taking a disease back with me to college. I even travelled to local schools to cheer on my siblings at their events.

After a poorly-organized, socially distant Blue Gold Welcome week, I spent most of my summer helping to plan to biggest bash UNK freshman have ever seen. As a result, the Office of Student and Family Transitions set records with the biggest turnout for Blue Gold Welcome Week in the history of UNK. It brought me so much joy to see Loper Leaders and first year students laughing and enjoying UNK events. It was literally a dream come true, after a year in which smiles were covered by masks.

Another big difference this semester can be seen through my Choraleers experience. Singing was my escape when the pandemic started, but it saddened me to perform to an empty audience. The masks kept slipping down my nose, and it was difficult to hear my fellow choir members when we weren’t in close proximity. This year, we do not rehearse or perform with masks, and the public is free to attend our concerts. The Choraleers also performed at local high schools for recruitment purposes, and we performed at the Nebraska Music Education Association conference in Lincoln. Choir feels even more freeing now.

The Antelope’s coverage has also changed quite a bit. I remember turning the pages of our student newspaper to see nothing but COVID-related articles. This semester, we branched out to other issues on campus, and we covered more events. The pandemic-related news that sticks out to me was when campus officials instated a temporary mask mandate. Despite experiencing some setbacks, I learned a lot in my leadership position, and the Antelope staff really banded together to produce some high-quality issues.

Aside from extra-curricular activities, my classes are easier in the sense that I don’t have to wear a mask, and I don’t have to rely on Zoom. I appreciate that my professors are willing to meet with me one-on-one in their offices.

I experienced more burnout than usual this semester though. When we had no events, I jumped on any opportunity I could to be involved. After almost a year of doing that, it became hard for me to stay motivated. I’ve talked to some group leaders on campus who are also struggling to recruit other students for their causes.

Otherwise, I have been very blessed with a carefree semester. However, I know the pandemic is far from over. My anxiety increases anytime I have a sore throat or a stuffy nose. Is it allergies or COVID? I got very sick for a few days this semester, and I was very weak and winded walking places. I thankfully tested negative for COVID-19, but I was very worried about infecting my loved ones.

Speaking of my loved ones, my mom had a close call with COVID-19 this semester. She would often cry out to God aloud while lying in her bed and just feeling miserable. It was a dark time because I was unable to see her or my family for a couple months. I was worried my siblings would become infected. My youngest brother has a birth defect that causes him to develop breathing problems when he gets sick. When my mom finally started to recover, I think I called her about three times a day for an entire week. That situation scared me back into the reality that the pandemic isn’t over yet.

Altogether, fall 2021 has and has not felt like a “pandemic semester.” My college experience has been very up and down because of the pandemic. Campus and the Kearney community have certainly gotten more laidback about COVID-19. On the other hand, there are still people who suffer from the effects of this horrible disease. And I will continue to keep them in my prayers.

For nearly 22 months, the Kearney Hub newspaper has relied on Mary Jane Skala to cover the coronavirus in our community. Since the pandemic hit Kearney, Skala has written so many heartbreaking and inspiring stories, as well as documented the number of COVID-19 cases in our area. Naturally, I turned to her for a thorough and reliable coronavirus story.

It’s nearly impossible to find an article that encapsulates the entire pandemic because so many factors of our society were impacted, such as our education systems, the economy, technology use, traveling, childcare and the list continues.

But I think Skala did an exceptional job of capturing the struggles of being a healthcare worker in her article titled, “COVID Crisis: Nurses at both Kearney hospitals physically, emotionally drained”. It was published on Nov. 1 of this year.

This spring, I wrote a feature story for a class about a 20-year-old nursing student who was thrust into the frontlines of a COVID-19 unit. Her experience started as far back as March 2020. The young nurse shared with me all of the hardships medical professionals are facing as they care for dying COVID-19 patients.

The recency of Mary Jane’s article tells me that even though the pandemic began over a year ago, the situation for healthcare workers has not improved. In fact, the main problem she points out is that the Kearney hospitals are struggling to recruit nurses to fill more positions. This does not come as a surprise to me. Healthcare workers have been put on a pedestal by our society (for good reason), but after hearing many COVID-19 horror stories, I understand why prospective nurses are hesitant to enter the field.

Skala has a lot of information from CHI Health Good Samaritan and Kearney Regional Medical Center, but she does a good job of sharing both sides. I also appreciate how she organizes this story because the topic is so vast. It was smart that she narrowed it down to the Kearney hospitals instead of trying to cover the entire Hub coverage area. It makes the information less overwhelming, and it signals when she is switching to a new topic.

All of the bases are covered with this article. She separates them with headings titled “Extra Shifts,” “Traveling nurses”, “Attracting new talent” and “Costs Climb”.

She discusses how medical professionals are picking up extra shifts as the number of healthcare workers have varied throughout the pandemic. The hospitals have created spaces for nurses to unwind and avoid burnout. Only Good Sam has required vaccinations for their workers, which I thought was interesting. Skala also dives into the experiences of traveling nurses and how the field has become more competitive.

To recruit more nurses, KRMC is advertising at career fairs and allowing nurses to work in each section of the hospital before settling on a unit. Kearney nursing staffs are also being trained to be more flexible because the cost for traveling nurses is rising. Then nurses can fill positions in units where they are most-needed.

With this article, Skala gives readers a lot of information to chew on, but the lead fits her content well. Her opening sentence points out the main challenges of Kearney hospitals. She writes, “As demands of the COVID-19 pandemic press on, CHI Health Good Samaritan and Kearney Regional Medical Center are facing a challenge: retaining and attracting nurses.”

s the world recovers from the pandemic, Kearney hospitals are still trying to adapt after being hit hard with patients. noted near the beginning of the article that hospitals were already experiencing nursing shortages before the pandemic, so the readers can understand how severe the problem has become.

This article was important. Skala localized the struggles of medical professionals. It’s a reality check in a community where many of strayed away from social distancing and masks. When people are at their worst health-wise, it can be difficult to be patient or show sympathy toward healthcare workers. This article reminds us that nurses are people too.

For our first grade Thanksgiving party, I remember making turkey-themed crafts, playing games and bringing snacks as a part my class’s Thanksgiving “meal.” I remember distinctly what my favorite memory was from that class party though.

My favorite part was when we cut vests from paper grocery bags and glued paper feathers to headbands. Even at that age, my heart was happiest with a crayon in my hand. So I carefully sketched designs of turkeys, fall leaves, horses and Native Americans.

On the back of the paper vest, I wrote “Drawing Butterfly.” For my “Indian name”, I was advised to pick a hobby and an animal I liked.

It seemed like an innocent activity at the time, but now I realize how inaccurate that depiction of Thanksgiving was. Through most of my childhood, I was taught that Thanksgiving involved Native Americans uniting to give the Europeans a chance of harmonious survival.

But the reality is that America was built on a fairytale.

Thanksgiving was not Native Americans and Europeans holding hands. According to an article by The Guardian writer, Alice Hutton, the turkey-free meal was tense and diplomatic. The act was meant to resolve conflict caused by settlers who fired muskets in celebration of the first harvest.

In the “This is America, Charlie Brown” episode, the pilgrims plead with the Indians to help them survive the winter. The Indians kindly show them techniques to farm and to fish.

When in reality, the native people taught the settlers these techniques in exchange for protection and trade. Instead, the tribes lost half their people due to the harsh winter. They were murdered, enslaved and forced to convert to Christianity. They were robbed of their land, their native tongue and their children.

I hate to break it to the Peanuts Gang, but “This is Actually Genocide, Charlie Brown.”

I won’t dive too deep into the details. Not because I don’t care or because I am ignorant. But I am not a historian, and I understand that I am not qualified to accurately depict the horrors that followed after the Mayflower met our soil.

What I find absolutely twisted is that I was not exposed to the truth behind Thanksgiving until probably seventh grade. This was probably sooner than the generations behind me, if they were exposed to the truth at all.

I had a wonderful social studies teacher who did not sugarcoat history. I watched a graphic video with a bloody reenactment of what happened in the early 1600s on America’s soil. I remember feeling near tears, sick to my stomach and like I had to leave the room.

Granted, I’m sure movie magic had a part to play. But thank goodness, I was not there to experience the real thing. No one knows what actually happened between the settlers and Native Americans because no one from that time is alive to tell the story. The propaganda has been twisted so much since Abraham Lincoln declared Thanksgiving a holiday.

The indigenous people of America have renamed Thanksgiving as the National Day of Mourning. They are among many minorities and ethnic groups who have been speaking out, and I feel they are justified in how they remember the time period. I appreciate how the efforts of existing Native Americans are reshaping our education system and how history is viewed.

After this Thanksgiving, I’ve reflected a lot on how crazy it is that despite my upbringing, I’m aware of reality. And I’ve been wondering how it is that I cope, knowing that most Americans watch football and eat themselves silly on the National Day of Mourning.

Well, I cannot change the past. I’m not ashamed of who I am or the fact that I am white. I’m not ashamed of my roots. Heck, I don’t even know what my roots are. I’m American, and that’s all I need to know. I don’t feel guilty for the past because I have no control over it. But I can control the future a little. I can advocate for the truth. I can remember the day with reverence and knowledge of others’ hardship.

But I will still celebrate Thanksgiving. The meaning has just changed for me. I love spending time with my family, and it is a day of gratitude. I hold my loved ones close, and I enjoy being with them especially after a pandemic has separated us for so long. I count my blessings while enjoying a meal that was made possible by the contributions of many.

I will not stop being thankful for others, while also keeping the truth in mind.

“Right now, I’m a lady of leisure. I’m in between jobs, so I’m kind of a nomad right now, just kind of travelling and seeing people and being where I need to be. I’ve been through here before, but I’ve never gone to Nebraska on purpose. I went to Omaha once when I was little, but that doesn’t really count now.”

“Right now, I just got done going on a road trip with my mom. We went up to the New England area, and so we went up for the fall leaves and got to walk around and try to do the whole social distancing vacation and try to avoid people as much as we can.” 

“We went to Maine and ate lobster. We went to like see a Frank Lloyd Wright house in Pennsylvania. We went to go see Falling Water. We went through West Virginia, so we went and saw where the Moth Man is from, like one of those cryptic things. And Niagara Falls — just kind of saw a bunch of crazy shit and headed back home.” 

“My dad is the worst traveler ever. He wants to get there, and he only eats like McDonald’s when he’s on the road. And my mom is like a foodie, and she hasn’t really gone anywhere and done anything for so long because he doesn’t want to go anywhere. He was in the Navy, so he’s been everywhere. He doesn’t want to go anywhere now.” 

“So I felt like I was kidnapping her and taking her out to give her some experiences. She had been taking care of her mother until she passed away. My grandmother, two years ago. So she was kind of stuck for like seven years and after she passed away — after she got over her guilt for going anywhere, —then she decided she wanted to go places and do things.” 

Theater kids are weird.

That’s what I thought throughout most of high school, and I still think that way a little now even.

I was a well-rounded high school student who dove into volleyball, Future Business Leaders of America, choir, art, speech and even track (despite my hatred for long-distance running). A Grand Island Independent article compared me to Troy Bolton from High School Musical, good at both sports and the arts. I’m writing this brief background, so my readers have an understanding of my interests in high school — not to brag about my abilities.

In other words, I didn’t fit into a specific group. I was not a jerky jock, nor a full-fledged drama geek with blue hair. Regardless, I loved one act. I enjoyed being on the stage and making people laugh.

But my junior year of high school, my one act director took a different route with our play. Instead of a comedic spoofs we’d been performing for the prior two years, she handed us the script to “The Insanity of Mary Girard.”

It’s a serious play set in the 1760s. The plot is based on a true story about a woman named Mary Girard who is mistreated by her cheating husband. Her husband declares her insane and throws Mary into an asylum. He does this as punishment because she is pregnant with someone else’s child. Mary is driven insane by demons from her past and the cruel tactics used in asylums back then. Eventually, she and her infant are buried in an unmarked grave.

Fun.

My one act director based that year’s play selection around one main character because she wanted me to play Mary. I had gotten acting awards at every one act meet, but our school finished in last or second-to-last most of the time. We had nothing to lose, so I thought it couldn’t hurt to try.

Every day for months, I arrived at school for 7 a.m. rehearsal to portray this distraught, pregnant woman whose psyche was slowly crumbling. My fellow actors were “Furies”, inmates at the asylum who swarmed around me throughout the entirety of the show. They’d whisper horrible things to me as I scratched at my arms, my chest heaved, and I buried my head into my knees. At these rehearsals, I sobbed, I screamed and I cursed God.

Then I went to class.

What I didn’t know is that even when I left the cramped theater and walked through the school hallways, I was taking Mary with me. I wasn’t fully Grace. It became easier to snap into Mary Girard than it was to snap back out of her.

I was emotionally drained throughout most of the school day and sports practices. My chest would tighten randomly, and the only way to stop it was to put my fist on my diaphragm and take deep breaths. I didn’t know it at the time, but that was anxiety.

That year, I got the Best Overall Actress Award at every one act meet we competed at.

But I wasn’t as energetic. It took a lot of effort for me to socialize with all my friends from other schools like I used to. When they congratulated me on my performance, Mary’s inner feelings would linger, like she was haunting me.

I still had fun in one act, but I had to try harder to have fun. I had a very happy childhood and life, and I wasn’t used to those sad feelings brought on by Mary. I didn’t know how to handle them, and that would prove to be a bigger problem later on in my junior year. I didn’t know how to leave Mary on the stage and go back to my life as the outgoing and optimistic Grace.

In college, I auditioned for one acts, and one of the student directors had us participate in an exercise. Before each performance, he had us close our eyes and he said,

“I want you to open a closet. There, in the closet, hangs your character. I want you to put on your character. Zip it all the way up and button all the buttons. Now you have your characters feelings and thoughts.”

After each rehearsal, we would close our eyes and he would say.

“I want you to unzip and unbutton your character. Slip off the costume one limb at a time. Hang your character back in the closet and shut the door. You are no longer your character. You are you, and you always have been.”

This process is called de-roling.

It involves mentally walking away from the stage and leaving your character there. It’s important for actors to engage in de-roling and monitor their mental health, otherwise they may suffer sad fates like that of Heath Ledger after he portrayed the Joker.

I wish I would have known about de-roling in high school. I don’t think my drama teacher knew about it either, so I don’t blame her for not noticing the grip that Mary had on me. I was a good actor after all, even when I wasn’t on the stage.

As a teenager, I might have viewed de-roling as a “weird theater kid” thing to do.

But my little sister is going through something similar. This year, my alma mater is performing a spin-off of MacBeth, but with cheerleaders. My sister is playing the cheer captain who is gradually driven insane and kills off the rest of the cheer team. She is the main character, or the Mary Girard, of this one act play.

My sister has also been getting Best Overall Actress Awards, and some of her closest friends and co-actors have turned on her due to jealously. If anything, the clique-y attitude of the cheerleaders is affecting the cast. They could use the de-roling method too in my opinion.

My sister already struggles with severe anxiety and fear of the future as a senior in high school. I’ve gotten phone calls from her about the stress she is feeling. But she approached these feelings differently than I did.

She opened up to her one act coach about her emotions and the poor treatment she’s been receiving from her cast-mates. I’m proud of her for doing this, instead of bottling it all up.

Why am I writing a blog post about this?

I think my sisters have just been on my heart and in my prayers because I know how much high school can suck. In fact, two of my sisters are on the one act team. The younger sister is a freshman who is playing a side cheerleader. I’m watching them perform at 8 a.m. Saturday in Minden, and I am so excited.

But my biggest hope is that when I hug them both after the performance, I see the joy of acting on their faces — not remnants of characters that belong only on the stage.

“Why are you in choir?”

Dr. Petzet asked the Choraleers this question as a bonding exercise, but the thoughts running through my head at the six-hour choir retreat were distracted by my classes and homework assignments.

One-by-one, the college students talked about how they’ve been singing since birth and their parents were music teachers and music is their passion.

But it was Tyler Clay, a student who I had never interacted with before, who reminded why I’m in choir.

Tyler Clay’s major switched from physics to history education and then to dentistry before he settled on music education.

His high school music teacher at Adams Central advised him to talk to David Bauer, the UNK choral director at the time. This interaction led to Clay’s involvement in Men’s Choir and the Choraleers, the highest choral group on campus.

Like every other college student in the U.S., Clay’s academic experience changed when COVID-19 hit, and he had a “wake-up moment”.

“I remember right before we were about to shut down, and there were parents in the main entrances in front of all the buildings, including Mantor (Hall),” Clay said. “Before that, I only heard briefly a little bit about COVID coming. I remember just getting up in the morning and heading to class, and I ran past this mom who said they were doing some kind of protest or something, saying that COVID was coming, and we needed to be prepared for it.”

But no one was prepared for it.

When UNK shut down in March of 2020, the students scattered, including Clay who moved back to Columbus to stay with his parents. Through the remainder of the spring semester, he adapted to online classes, and commuted each day for his job at the Hampton Inn in Kearney.

It was while commuting when COVID-19 crept into Clay’s family.

“I remember getting a call right when I was driving back to Kearney from Columbus, saying that (Dad) had apparently fallen and hit his head and had to go to the hospital for it,” Clay said. “He tested positive for COVID, and they were sure he had some kind of concussion, which normally would only last maybe a few months to recover, but a year went by, and we slowly realized this was something else.”

Clay’s father has “COVID brain,” or what is known as “brain fog” after an infection of COVID-19. The condition affected his dad’s speech, understanding of language and memories.

“I would have never said it, but I didn’t think he was ever going to get better memory-wise,” Clay said. “There was a time where he would just not remember anything like remote conversations, like if I had a conversation with him, an hour later, he would not remember even talking to me.”

Clay’s father would get startled when Clay walked into the same room as him because he would forget his son was there. While watching TV, his father would take naps every five minutes due to being worn out.

Eventually, COVID-19 forced his father into early retirement.

In the meantime, Clay continued on as a working student. Clay said that customers at his job would say comments like, “COVID is fake, nothing has ever happened from COVID, there is no proof that COVID has ever existed.”

Clay said, “I’m literally just staring at them just thinking, ‘Tell that to my dad.'”

He found solace in a guitar he received for his birthday just before quarantine. His father’s struggle inspired Clay to write a song, thanking his loved ones for being in his life.

When school started again in the fall, Clay continued to drive back to Columbus after class or after work to take care of his father.

“Honestly, my grades slipped,” Clay said. “I just was in a bad place emotionally and anxiety-wise. Pretty much failed half of my classes because I was only caring about taking care of my dad when I could.”

It was Dr. John Petzet, the UNK choral director who reached out after Clay hadn’t been at choir rehearsal for two weeks.

“After that, it really got me in gear choir-wise and honestly, Men’s Choir really helped me,” Clay said. “It was a good day to just unwind and only think about the music for a little bit.”

The music students adapted to UNK’s COVID-19 policies by social distancing and wearing masks during rehearsals. Clay said the masks made it more difficult for choir members to catch their breath after warm-ups.

Despite singing to an empty recital hall, Clay cherished the live-streamed concerts because of the effect the performances had on his father.

The songs triggered more memories.

“I would call him and be like, ‘Hey, did you think we sounded good’, and he’d be like, ‘So I just heard you guys sing, Take Me Out to the Ball Game. I just remembered there was this one time I was playing baseball-‘, and then he would be going into this whole story,” Clay said.

“And it was just kind of this moment where I realized, ‘Oh my gosh, music might-‘. And it was just kind of this breaking point where if we would listen to music or talk about a story or something, it would just slowly but surely get him to remember more without even him knowing about it.”

Throughout the pandemic, Clay bonded with his father over music, while also staying in class and improving his grades. His father’s “brain fog” symptoms are improving, and due clinic visits in Omaha, he is able to drive now.

“It’s not going to ever be perfect ever again,” Clay said. “It’s just a matter of can he live his life normally again?”

In the meantime, Clay pursues his passions as a music education junior at UNK. He sees the Choraleers rehearsals as “an escape from what’s going on.”

Many of the songs selected for concerts are inspired by the pandemic.

“There’s so many songs that just are a part of history are a part of these big messages empathy, understanding and love,” Clay said. “And I think I would like to be that teacher that brings these songs in. It may be a simple song, but there’s just a message behind it.”

I’m honored that Clay was willing to share his story with me. I was considering dropping out of choir due to my major-intensive classes, but now I’m not so sure. He reminded me of the joy music brings so many people, and how my heart soars while I sing.

I often forget about that feeling. But music makes us remember.

I met Hannah Wilson at Barista’s on 25th Street in Kearney. She is a junior at UNK, who is originally from Grand Island. Hannah shared the story of why she switched her major from nursing to communication disorders.

“I knew I wanted to do something in the medical field, and I wanted to work with people. I really enjoy working with people. Last summer, I nannied for a family who had a little guy who had a speech impediment. I got to kind of interact with him, and I actually got to take him to a lot of his appointments.”

“Just through that, I was able to kind of see what a speech path does. They work with a lot of different ages of people, but kids is what I want to work with. And I just thought that was kind of the fit it for me.”

“He was about four years old, so just a little guy. They were a family from India, so his accent did — they took that into consideration when having him go through therapy, but it wasn’t just his accent that he was having problems with. It was some of those other sounds.”

“He had a really tough time pronouncing a lot of his consonants. He had a tough time pronouncing his ‘r’s and his ‘l’s, and so there were a lot of different things that the speech pathologists worked with him on. And it was interesting. I did see improvement from him.”

“I got to interact with the boy more and knowing him, I was like, ‘Okay, yeah, I think this is something I want to pursue to help kids like him, make it easier for them in school and in their family life.'”

Every week for almost five semesters I pour my blood, sweat and tears into the Antelope newspaper. Every week, eight editors put the student newspaper before our mental health, our sleep schedules, our personal relationships, and sometimes even our homework. And yet, at the end of every week, I still see stacks of untouched newspapers collecting dust on the racks across UNK’s campus.

This sight causes me to die a little inside.

I get it. College students’ backpacks are already weighed down with novels and textbooks that professors are hounding them to read. And why would someone pick up a dirty, old newspaper when they could simply check their Twitter feed for the daily news?

Even students swear up and down to never, ever read The Antelope newspaper, the publication can still be of service to others. Here are ten ways the Antelope newspaper can be useful (besides you know, keeping you aware of campus news):

1. Make a Hat

Lopers, it’s time to spice up your wardrobe. Nothing says school pride like a hat made from The Antelope newspaper. Be prepared to stand out and attract many, many glances as you strut down the long path to Discovery Hall from your residence hall. I’m not sure how well making a newspaper hat will work, since we publish a tabloid paper instead of a broadsheet, but it would be worth the try. If you figure it out, maybe we’ll even publish your self-made instructions. Go to this WikiHow for help.

2. Pet Cage Lining

The Antelope would make a perfect lining for college students who keep emotional support hamsters (or sneak in squirrels from the campus wilderness). Newspapers are an absorbent substance, so replacing the cage lining regularly will keep your pet happy, your room fresh and our racks empty.

3. Fire Starter

How dare you even think about burning such a high-end publication! But you wouldn’t be the first. Interestingly enough, the Antelope is highly flammable, so don’t forget to bring a stack of papers to your friend’s barbecue or camping trip.

Make sure it let go of the newspaper first before lighting it.

4. Craft layer

To avoid messes, lay an Antelope newspaper over a table top while you work on crafts. Perhaps you are carving pumpkins or your RA is holding a Bob Ross Night in your residence hall. Have no worries as the words we slave over are covered with paint, glue or pumpkin guts.

5. Paper Mache

Speaking of crafts, you can’t successful paper mâché without newspapers. What was once a limp newspaper could become a piñata, a science fair volcano or a poorly-made Mother’s Day gift. Allow the Antelope to make your mother smile as she cherishes the creation you made for her, instead of emptying your college bank account.

6. Packaging Material

Are you an international student wanting to send souvenirs to your family? Or maybe you’re from Lincoln and you want to send your friends some Loper gear, so they finally have a good team to cheer for. Simply line the box with copies of the Antelope, and we will ensure your package gets to its destination safely.

7. Gift Wrapping

With Christmas coming up, why waste money on wrapping paper, when you can nap a few copies of The Antelope? Then your friends will be getting two presents: fuzzy socks and some wonderful reading material. Admit it, the Antelope is a gift that just keeps on giving.

8. Wallpaper

We doubt your landlord will be very happy about this creative idea. But if you feel this passionately about the Antelope to line your apartment walls with our publication, you may be our number one fan and favorite reader.

9. A Weapon of Mass Destruction

Whether we want to admit it or not, the dorms are ridden with many pests including flies, spiders, cockroaches (ew) and even wasps sometimes. Now, now we would never encourage violence, but these creepy-crawly pests won’t stand a chance against a few rolled up copies of the Antelope. Buzzzzzzzzzzzz SPLAT!

10. You could always… read the newspaper.

I know I said this list would omit “reading” from this list, but seriously, this is the best use of the Antelope newspaper. When you want to know about campus events, featured students, COVID-19 coverage or entertainment opportunities in Kearney, the Antelope has it covered. Don’t forget to pick up a copy each week. We have plenty of newspaper racks in every building on campus.

Every Loper looks better with a newspaper in hand, and it would make the editors and I feel fulfilled as student journalists.