“Workin’ Moms,” starring Catherine Reitman, Dani Kind and Juno Rinaldi, features working mothers in their thirties and their friends trying to juggle the responsibilities of their careers, motherhood, their relationships with their partners and the other stressors of life in Toronto.

This wickedly funny and ruthlessly honest series by Wolf and Rabbit Entertainment, the production company of real-life couple Catherine Reitman and Philip Sternberg who play Kate and Nathan Foster on the show, aired first on CBC in 2017. The show quickly gained a following and the first three seasons premiered on Netflix in 2019.

The majority of episodes are written or directed by women, drawing young female audiences to the stories depicted in the show. The first two seasons thrive on these honest tellings of just how hard motherhood can be. Protagonist Frankie struggles with post-partum depression, Jenny realizes she cares more for her career than a domestic life with her husband and infant child and Anne discovers that she is pregnant just eight months after giving birth to her youngest child.

“Workin’ Moms” unfortunately features a cast of mostly white, rich, heterosexual women with just one token “diverse” couple to speak of, but does a good job showing different ways of being a mom.

Still, the show would benefit from the addition of more diversity to the cast without adding people of color, lesbian and gay couples in the background of white, straight narratives.

While the previous seasons touch on topics such as reproductive rights, divorce, work promotions, maternity leave, mental health and extramarital affairs, this season seems to fall just short of such compelling work.

The show is seriously binge-able, but there are several elements that, if changed in even the smallest of ways, could greatly improve the dramedy.

Instead of combining subtle humor with serious revelations, the third season opts for an approach that prioritizes shock value and unrealistic drama. The first two seasons of the show do well in their effort to create clever combinations of compelling narratives and raunchy humor, but the third series of episodes counts too much on the sex and fails to include the proper growth that the characters deserve.

Though viewers get to see many of main character Kate’s dreams come to fruition — she finally has the daughter she has always dreamed of, starts her own business and proves herself to her arch-nemesis from season one — there are still plenty of things holding her character back.

The audience can see the writers’ intent, such as their attempt to capture the complications of co-parenting and still being in love with the man who had an affair with the nanny. Still, some of these actions, though hilarious, seem a little out of character.

The one greatly successful scene in Kate’s character arc is her final scene of the season: an argument with her husband, the father of her children and the man of her dreams. Kate’s confusion and flustered demeanor as she grapples with the choice she must now make really push the audience to the edge of their seats.

Anne’s third season troubles thrive on her anger wiht her predator ex-husband, but unlike previous seasons, there is no closure for Anne or the audience. Instead, the storyline ends without much depth.

Her problems with her daughter return after almost two dozen episodes of effort to resolve them, and her aggression toward almost useless side characters fizzles out without a conclusion or a promise of a continuation of the storyline in future episodes.

As for Frankie, her post-partum depression somehow disappears without a trace and she gains little development across the 13 episodes.

Jenny’s character comes back into the spotlight after an entire season of taking a secondary role and she refuses to grow as a person, making her almost a villain in her own series.

Val also takes on a new role as the audience peeks into her life more than previous seasons, but nothing new is learned besides the fact that her sons are possibly the worst people on earth, so much so that she needs a man to help her reign them in.

The finale, not unlike previous finales, leaves fans with plenty of questions. Will Anne’s daughter Alice hold her mother’s secrets over her head? Will Kate go back to Nathan or choose the sexy businessman she has been in bed with both literally and in a business sense?

Though the season is disappointing in comparison to the previous two, fans and critics alike remain optimistic about season four. Seasons one through three of “Workin’ Moms” can be watched on Netflix, and the fourth season is set to air in winter of 2020.

The Jackets line up opposite the ball. The crowd roars to its feet as the USF snapper places his hands on the ball. In Bobby Dodd, it is a tense moment. Despite the wall of sound produced by the fans, you can hear yourself breathing — in, out, in, out. And then, over the loudspeaker, the PA announcer shouts, holding the first syllable of the line in like a gate keeping back a mighty beast, only to have the beast break free — “It’s… Money Down!”

If you’re one type of Tech fan, that paragraph should get your blood pumping. If you’re another, it might get it boiling. “Can we stop doing Money Down[?]” one user on Tech subreddit asked during Saturday’s game. “Pretty please!”

“It’s weird and cringey,” said another user. “And it just feels like they’re trying to make ‘fetch’ happen,” they added, voicing their displeasure.

So debut of one of Tech’s newest traditions — and a staple of Geoff Collin’s culture — was not exactly met with warm reception online. So be it.

For the unacquainted, the “Money Down” is another name for a third down, popularized in the 1980s and 1990s. The third down is the play that the drive hangs upon — if the offense is stopped, they are usually forced to punt or kick a field goal, lessening the offensive threat. The payoff of the stop lends itself to the name.

Geoff Collins, who prior to becoming a head coach as Temple had served as a defensive coordinator at Florida, Mississippi State and Florida International University, is all too aware of the importance of getting a stop on a third down, and from Florida to Temple to Tech, he has carried the importance of it with him.

While at Florida, Collins’ assistants would jump up and down with the “Money Down” signs. At Tech, he has expanded the tradition, with graphics announcing the moment, the PA announcer shouting out the phrase and the student cheering section making it rain with fake money.

Is it cheesy? Of course — Collins always operates with a degree of tongue-in-cheek silliness, refusing to take football too seriously and encouraging his players to do the same. Sometimes he has absurd costumes, other times he brings Waffle House to the players, but no matter the occasion, Collins has kept things light at Bobby Dodd.

It is a stark contrast from the Paul Johnson era when the gruff Johnson would be content to merely scowl at the game-action from the sidelines. And it’s understandable that fans raised on a steady diet of option football — a scheme where there are no stars, no standouts, only running the ball and never letting go — might not immediately be receptive to their business-like football games being infiltrated by silly fun.

But at the end of the day, that’s what it is: silly fun. Football is just a playground game that mass media, fans and coaches, have led you to believe is far more serious of a matter than it actually is. At its core, it’s just a game, and that’s something Collins understands.

If you are at the football game Saturday, go ahead: you are more than welcome to roll your eyes the next time the sideline assistants bust out the signs or groan as the student section makes it rain. But at the end of the day, Collins is just trying to remind people that football is, at its core, a game, and games are meant to be fun. So feel free to join in!

Eva Erickson is a first-year PHYS. She hails from Eagan, Minnesota. Over the next four years, she plans to study the motion of animals to help the military build advanced technology. She is also the first ever woman to make Tech’s hockey team.

That often comes as a surprise to her classmates. “Whenever I’m meeting people, everyone’s always like, ‘oh, what sorority are you in?’ I’m like, ‘actually, I’m on the men’s hockey team.’” The shock, she says, is twofold; people are not only surprised that Tech has a hockey team but also that a girl would want to play hockey, a sport whose most well-known stars worldwide are generally men.

But the sport was a significant part of Erickson’s life since she was a kid. She played her first match at age six, and in hockey-crazed Minnesota, there were plenty of teams around. She says “most people [in Minnesota] have played” some form of the sport at some point in their lives. Erickson credits her father, himself a former hockey player, as a guiding influence. “He’s always giving me pointers, talking to me off the ice about what I need to get better on and definitely acting like a coach even though he’s never actually been an official coach,” she says.

Erickson soon made a name for herself as a star defenseman. While the nature of her position meant she rarely scored goals — her first varsity score in high school came in her senior year — she took pride in a gritty style of play. “I really pride myself on being a shutdown defenseman, just being able to stay in position in front of the net and body people out,” she says. And that style of play helped her team reach the state championships, which were played at the Xcel Center, home of the Minnesota Wild.

While some athletes from Erickson’s community became Division I hockey players, her sights were turned to Georgia Tech. Tech’s academics appealed to her, and the research conducted on its campus aligned perfectly with her interests. Knowing that Tech did not have an NCAA-sanctioned women’s hockey team, though, she knew that she might need to press the pause button on her career in organized hockey.

That changed when Erickson posted a biography of herself in a Facebook group while looking for a roommate for her freshman dorm. “I said that hockey was a huge part of my life and I wanted to continue playing, but I know there’s not really a way for me to do that. Multiple players who were on the team reached out to me and said, ‘No, you should actually try out for the men’s team.’”

So Erickson did, although things did not go according to plan. Because of a mix-up at the ice rink, no tryout participant got practice time, so Erickson took the ice having not laced up her skates in a month ­— an intimidating experience. “I felt like the boys were all going to be bigger and faster than me, because in Minnesota, the quality of boy’s hockey versus girl’s hockey is very different.”

To her surprise, she was able to keep up. Over the course of practice, she found her groove. In one-on-one defending drills, she stopped four of five attacks. By the end, she was on the team.

Things do not get easier for Eva Erickson now. At 5-foot-4, she will almost always be the smallest player on the rink. The physical style of play that worked so well before will need to change. She sees victories in progress. “I know that I’m not going to get the stats. I probably won’t get very much ice time … but just, knowing, getting off the ice from a shift, that I played well: that’s the feeling I want from this season.”

For Erickson, the first of her kind with Tech hockey, there’s little standing in her way to make that feeling a reality.

Christian French was just a normal 22-year-old kid from the midwest until he wrote the song “By Myself” which accumulated 13.8 million listens in a matter of months and resulted in a following of almost two million fans on Spotify. French radiates charm and positivity in his newly released EP “bright side of the moon,” the follow up to 2019’s “Natural Colors.”

While most people his age are preparing to walk across the stage in a cap and gown, French will take the stage in a different way. As he embarks on his first headlining tour this Fall, he will touchdown in Atlanta on Sept. 19 at Aisle 5 in Little Five Points.

Although he has been compared to the likes of singer-songwriter Ed Sheeran and popstar Jon Bellion, French’s music has a sound of its own. The new EP sounds like a year-round summer full of cold glasses of lemonade.

His lyrics ooze positivity and his tone is effortlessly carefree while still conveying a message. Although his EP has a very upbeat sound, in an interview with the Technique, French said that he describes it as soul-pop or indie-pop. Still, in the same breath he hesitates to label it as just one genre, preferring to describe it as a hybrid of many genres intertwined.

While the new EP allowed him to “experiment with different sounds and vibes,” French claims to be greatly influenced by artists John Mayer and Bon Iver. He eplained that his writing process begins with “developing an idea for the song and then journaling about the idea” before writing music and lyrics at the piano.

After the bare bones of the song are composed acoustically, French fleshes out the song with a producer. He has also found that it is extremely important to work with producers that can offer him specific musical guidance depending on the song.

When asked what songs he is most excited to play on his first headlining tour, French listed “head first” and “call me your love” as tracks he is excited to perform with the full band. He also said he is excited to play “heavy snow” solo on the piano, which he expects will create a shift in the energy of the crowd and make the set more intimate.

One of French’s goals is to provide an uplifting message and put listeners in a better mood than before they listened to him. He also hopes that listeners can find meaning in his lyrics and take something new away from each of his songs.

When asked about being new to music, French shared advice someone gave him about the industry: “there are no set rules” and “everyone has their own path” when trying to be successful.

He also said that “there are a million ways to get to a solution” and artists should “get to make their own story.” One thing is for certain, Christian French is on his way to becoming a household name and will create his own path in getting there.

There is one particular scene which is unfortunately emblematic of “It Chapter Two.” After remembering some of his childhood traumas associated with his hometown, James McAvoy grabs a child by the shoulders, shaking him, and screams that the kid and his family need to leave Derry, Maine immediately. The moment — occurring roughly an hour or more into the film’s runtime — carries such earnest intensity and seriousness that it becomes unintentionally funny. Like this scene, the film as a whole feels forceful and often contrived.

For those unfamiliar with the popular culture phenomenon, director Andy Muschietti’s “It” franchise is the latest incarnation of the classic 1986 Stephen King novel of the same name about a group of misfit kids whose town and lives are haunted by Pennywise, a supernatural clown who eats children and feasts on their fears.

Like the novel, the latest film adaptations feature two timelines. The first occurs during the childhoods of the self-monikered “Losers” in Derry, Maine, as portrayed in the charming 2017 film “It” — a movie so joyously enthralling and thrilling that it puts many other horror movies to shame.

Some 27 years later, the grown-up Losers return to Derry to once again confront the monstrous Pennywise. With the exception of the occasional flashback, “It Chapter Two” follows this adult timeline.

Penned and directed respectively by series mainstays Gary Dauberman and Andy Muschietti, the latest sequel recasts the juvenile Losers with their adult counterparts, led by Jessica Chastain (“Zero Dark Thirty”), Bill Hader (“Saturday Night Live,” “Barry”) and the aforementioned James McAvoy (“Split,” “X-Men”). Relative unknowns Isaiah Mustafa, Jay Ryan and James Ransone round out the gang.

Where one might imagine that inserting premier adult talent into the fold would presumably elevate the material, some ethereal quality is lost in the transition. The exuberant chemistry that once characterized “The Losers Club” is lost, suddenly replaced by a clunky awkwardness most akin to the atmosphere at a high school reunion. Seeing its own fatal flaw, the movie attempts to gloss over it. Their initial meetup cuts abruptly from greetings to laughter. Conveniently, the Losers must split-up and confront their pasts individually before collectively challenging Pennywise.

Here, “It Chapter Two” begins to seriously lag. The entire second hour (of a nearly three-hour movie) features each character traipsing down memory lane independently from their fellow Losers. During each of their journeys, the characters are subjected to hallucinogenic, psychological attacks, specifically tailored to each of their childhood traumas. At first, these scenes are actually affecting and frightening. But since they are staged sequentially rather than simultaneously cutting between scenes, the act of repetition becomes a slog that completely upends suspension of disbelief.

However, “It Chapter Two” is not a bad movie. Rather, it is often scary, occasionally funny — thanks to Bill Hader — and sufficiently entertaining. The acting talent maximizes the material, as is especially apparent with Bill Skarsgård (“Deadpool 2”) as Pennywise. Moreover, the film’s handling of trauma is quite pointed and thoughtful. So why express such scorn?

The truth is that “It Chapter Two” is like shooting par in golf. A par gets the job done, but will rarely turn any heads. When compared to an eagle or a birdie, it becomes painfully clear that the golfer could have done better. In this analogy, 2017’s “It” is that very eagle to which this sequel is being compared.

“It Chapter Two” lacks the vibrancy, liveliness and chemistry of its predecessor. Rather than riding through this clown-infused horror story on the back of the Losers’ bike pegs, viewers are forced into a parade of traumatic hallucinations without even a hint of subtlety. Everything is so forthright and out-in-the-open that it feels inorganic and contrived, as in the previously described altercation between James McAvoy and the child. The intensity of McAvoy’s face carries a “you haven’t seen what I’ve seen” look. Standing as a surrogate to the audience, the young boy can only silently wish that this adult man would stop grabbing him by the shoulders and screaming about his trauma.

Computer Science (CS), in its truest sense, refers to a discipline that is an extension of mathematics. Like the connection between physics and mechanical engineering, computer science has practical applications like forming the backbone of software engineering, which seeks to find optimal ways to construct practical software applications.

While Tech does a great job at giving us exposure to the fundamental theoretical concepts of computer science, receiving more practical knowledge will better prepare us for our careers. Most classes give students practical experience in designing and building software, as well as on modern application development.

However, working on a program for school is very different from writing code in a job environment. Programming for classes can be a great way to clarify abstract concepts for students, but such classes have strict standards for acceptance and guidance from instructors. Most engineering problems are open-ended and do not come with explicit instructions.

Tech has an opportunity to teach practical engineering skills: harness the students as an “open-source” community for building internal infrastructure. We all know that BuzzPort and OSCAR have not gotten a facelift since last century. “Open-sourcing” software infrastructure to the Tech CS community would benefit nearly all parties involved. With a constant flow of CS students into the school, Tech would always have someone available to work on improving these projects. Students would get exposure to building an actual piece of open-source software from the ground up. And all students would get more reliable software. Other projects could emerge, leading the way for an improved Georgia Tech powered by student-made software.

In one of my classes this semester, I overheard a student say that they had never used “Git” before. Git is a version control system used to track changes to software that is ubiquitous in software engineering.

This student is in an advanced Systems and Architecture class. The 7th best CS school in the world should not have students in advanced classes that cannot use basic tools like source control.

This is not a critique of the student, but of Tech and its failure to impart basic practical skills. Having a large open-source project could go a long way towards making sure that every CS student leaves Tech with the skills they need to succeed at whatever their career holds.

Practical experience through my capstone project and internship has motivated my learning. It also helped me find the path I want to take after I get out. Even though much of what I am studying now will not directly apply to my career, it is still a great motivator to be working on a project and realize that you are actually applying something that you learned in school.

If we can maintain a symbiosis between theory and practice, Tech will remain one of the best Computer Science schools on the planet for many years to come.

“How do you actually pronounce your name?” My coworker asked. No one had ever asked me this before.

BEE-ah-tris.bee-AH-tris. BEE-tris. beh-TRESE.

There are probably half a dozen more ways that people have pronounced my name, and most of them were wrong. I refrain from correcting people, and I usually go with their pronunciations instead.

“Hi, my name is BEE…”

My coworker gave me a look. She knew how my name was really pronounced. “Sorry. Hi, my name is BEY-ah-tris.”

The “correct” pronunciation of my name — the way my parents pronounced it as a Filipino name — felt wrong and uncomfortable to say, and I usually shy away from introducing myself that way.

Last year, I wrote about my experiences being a third-culture kid and first-generation immigrant to the United States. Both of these pieces of my identity make it difficult for me to understand where I fit in with my Filipino background and made me question whether I was “Filipino enough” to associate myself with that identity. And even if I were Filipino enough, I did not want to impose my culture on anyone else around me, and that included correcting others’ pronunciations of my name.

I was gatekeeping myself from my own identity. But this summer, I realized that there were people who were interested in learning about and cultivating the parts of my identity that I never thought twice about.

A good friend of mine hosted weekly cooking nights, and one of them happened to fall on June 12 — Philippine Independence Day. He texted me the night before, asking for dish suggestions.

In that moment, I felt anxious. I had flashbacks to second grade, when my classmate asked me to put my “smelly” food away — it was sinigang, a tamarind-based soup. Now, my friends wanted Filipino food? And they wanted me to help cook it? The flashbacks quickly disappeared, and I immediately texted my mom and asked her for three recipes: pancit, a glass noodle and vegetable dish; lumpia, the Filipino version of spring rolls; and adobo, a vinegar and soy sauce chicken dish with bay leaves and peppercorns.

I was so excited to get ingredients at the Southeast Asian market next to my house and plan out the meals that I came to work late that day, spending too long in the dried noodles and spices aisle. I walked into work, quickly stashed my groceries in the community fridge on my floor, and got to work. And by “work”, I mean I wrote out the recipes my mom had sent me and adjusted the quantities according to the number of people that would be attending the dinner that night.

I am not sure that I did any real work that day.

I was even more excited when lunch came around, a display of foods that looked similar to foods I had eaten growing up; my workplace was celebrating Philippine Independence Day, too.

That night, I taught my friends how to place the filling and roll the lumpia wrappers, just like my mom taught me. I worked on seasoning the pancit and adobo until that last spoonful brought me back to dinnertime with my family and Sunday lunches with my cousins and family friends.

And a few weeks later, my coworker encouraged me to pronounce my name correctly. She helped me realize that pronouncing my own name wrong allows others to do the same.

I realized that whenever I tell other people about how my parents raised me, or what family dinnertime conversation was like, or the names of the dishes my relatives made for me growing up, or the Tagalog sayings my mom taught me, or even how my name is actually pronounced, I have an incredible opportunity to educate others about myself, my family and my culture.

These things make up every part of my identity, and I am learning to own it — without worrying about not being enough, or too much.

I assume, by the way people react when they hear the words “kill shelter,” that they have this image of the evil dog catchers maniacally laughing as they inject innocent puppies with a lethal dose of pentobarbital. Those who work within these facilities are actually the unsung heroes of animal welfare, and they need our help if we are to reduce euthanasia rates in the U.S.

After working with “kill shelters” for a year, I think it is about time I did my best to change these negative perceptions of government-run animal services.

We should start by calling these shelters what they really are: open intake shelters. Open intake shelters do not have a choice but to take in any animal found within their jurisdiction, which means the more animals that come in, the more go out to make room for newer animals.

That includes strays, owner surrenders, abused animals and accidental litters. Often, shelters house hundreds more animals than they are built for. This overpopulation results in resources stretching thin to accommodate the number of animals. This overcrowding contributes to the high euthanasia rates we tend to see in the news. (A not-so-gentle reminder that having unaltered animals contributes to overpopulation, so spay and neuter!)

Shelters will hold animals for five days, or some other state-mandated amount of time, to wait for the animal to be claimed by its owner. After that, they are adopted out, fostered, sent to a rescue, or put down.

Private organizations or rescues get to be highly selective about the animals they house. They turn away animals every day, ones they deem unadoptable, too old, too sick. Even then, rescues will still euthanize sickly dogs and cats, or those with temperament issues or bite histories.

The rescues that most animal lovers tend to worship do great work too — because they have donors, sponsors, events, commercials and all without any stigma. Dogs and cats die on the waiting list to get “rescued,” despite the idea that all rescues are “no kill.”

I love rescues, but if we are to make a significant impact on euthanasia rates in this country, we need to uplift the people and places that are on the front lines of animal welfare, not those that have the privilege of choosing when to get involved.

The act of euthanasia is a last resort, and if there is no room in the shelter, no funds to make up for the cost of boarding, no adopters and no rescues, there is no hope for these animals. And this hopelessness is what makes euthanasia rates skyrocket.

The stigma surrounding kill shelters contributes to these rates. Many elect to foster or adopt from private organizations like the Humane Society because they do not want to support the shelters that put innocent animals down. But guess what: local shelters are the ones that actually need your help!

If more people were to support open intake animal shelters, either through donations, fostering, adopting, marketing available animals or educating local pet owners, there would be less overpopulation, and thus, less euthanasia.

“Kill shelters” do incredible work every year. They are boots to the ground, rescuing animals from horrific situations and giving them a chance. Local shelters have low-cost clinics; they help lost animals go home to their families; they feed and care for hundreds of creatures each day; they market their animals to rescues with bigger budgets or people looking to add another member to the families.

But if adopters do not understand this, then their efforts could be for nothing.

So what do we do? Spay and neuter, vaccinate and love the animals you have at home. Volunteer, foster, adopt, donate what you can and fight against the idea that kill shelters are not wonderful places to visit and work. Shelters are full of people with immense hearts full of love and plenty of deserving animals. It’s time we embrace shelters the same way we embrace those private rescues.

In stunning fashion, The Citadel upset the Jackets 27-24 in overtime Saturday afternoon. Tech struggled to defend the option all game long, and it took only a late drive from Tech to force the game into overtime, but after the Jackets failed to convert a down in OT and missed a field goal, Citadel kicker Jacob Godek chipped in a 37-yard field goal to give the FCS Bulldogs an upset victory.

Controversial officiating sends game to OT

On their last drive of the game, Tech appeared to score a go-ahead touchdown with just 6 seconds left – however, the play was called back, as Tech coach Geoff Collins called a timeout prior to the snap on the play, and the play was blown dead. Tech instead had to settle for a field goal to tie the game, sending it into overtime. Prior to the play, GT was called for a false-start penalty, and with 13 seconds on the game clock, the referees announced that the game clock would start on the snap, contrary to NCAA rules. However, the clock instead correctly began on the referees’ signal, and Collins used his timeout to stop the clock just before the play was in motion. With not enough time on the clock, Collins was forced to try for a tying field goal. Postgame, Collins levied hefty blame on the errant officiating for the game: “All of us heard what was said [by the refs]… if we don’t have the ability to take our time, we have a cadence right when the ball is in play we snap it and we go – that would have been activated if those things had not been said… I imagine that was a key factor in that game.”

Johnson struggles with passing, Oliver shines with rushing

With QB James Graham out with injury, the normal rotation at QB for Tech was disrupted, and it was Lucas Johnson and Tobias Oliver slotting in at QB. Johnson struggled mightily with passing, going just 5/10 with 91 yards in the air, and was sacked three times as Tech’s decimated offensive line struggled to protect their QB. Out of the scramble, Oliver fared far better – the RS sophomore went just 2-3 with 27 yards in the air but rushed for 93 yards on 11 carries at QB. Oliver also filled in on two kick-returns, totaling 96 yards.

Perimeter defense lacking

Despite having played the option for more than a decade, Tech’s defense looked thoroughly unprepared to face the Citadel’s offensive scheme. The Bulldogs controlled the clock to a dominating degree, 41:50 time of possession compared to 18:10 for Tech, and the Jackets’ perimeter defense looked like swiss cheese against the FCS team. Tech allowed 320 rushing yards and the Citadel converted on 8 of 16 third downs. Postgame, RS Junior LB David Curry said postgame that, “It comes down to guys doing their job – it starts up front and then to linebackers and then to secondaries, everyone has to do their job… at certain points, guys just didn’t do their job.”

Tech struggles with penalties

The Jackets found themselves on the wrong side of the whistle multiple times Saturday, including a drive that included three unsportsmanlike conduct penalties. Crucially, after a third-down stop, DL Chris Martin taunted Citadel QB Brandon Rainey and was flagged for it, giving the Bulldogs new life for the drive. The game appeared to get chippy following a kick-off early in the second quarter, as Tech and Citadel players shoved off each other during the play. Tech recorded eight penalties for 80 yards during the game. Postgame, Collins noted that Tech had only recorded four penalties in their first two games but said that “there were sometimes today that some frustration set in, some chippy-ness set in, and we cost ourselves early in the game.”

Very few people pay attention to the quiet companion of our lives: the bits and pieces of paper that come and go, from notes to cardboard boxes or even the page this is printed on. Although treated like an afterthought, the Robert C. Williams Museum of Papermaking (RCWMP) shines a light on exactly how important an afterthought can be.

To better explore the world of paper we live in and its presence here at Tech, the Technique sat down with the museum director at the RCWMP Virginia Howell.

“Museums are really interesting places to work. We deal with a lot of unusual materials and processes. So, this is a great opportunity for students to say, ‘Hey, I’m really interested in this subject area or this method of doing something and I want to learn more about it,’” said Howell.

Howell noted that it is not just students who are coming into the museum to learn more about paper.

“The museum has three unique audiences. We have our Georgia Tech audience who may or may not be interested in paper, which is fine; we will convert you,” Howell laughed. “Then, we have our local audience which is primarily made up of school groups, home school groups and some individuals who want to visit a museum. Our third audience is paper fans. So, people who are into paper.”

To accommodate each of these groups in a unique way, the museum leads specialized tours and hands-on papermaking experiences for school groups on field trips to higher level workshops that teach book binding and bookmaking to older audiences. For the Tech community, the museum offers specific workshops catered to the needs of students and faculty, often developing a special program for professors to align with course projects.

2nd-year ENVE Zion Martell visited the museum for her first time with her English 1102 class to learn how to make a children’s book.

“It was a nice break from the traditional ‘this is what’s been researched and this is what you should do,’ versus ‘these are all your materials and this is what you can do,’” Martell said. “It was very open and I thought it was cool to be able to do it and not just hear about it.”

Third-year CM Tori Kraj visited the museum to participate in the workshops geared towards the Fast Film Festival, which is a stop motion film contest run by the museum. The contest has only one rule: the animation must be constructed from paper.

Participants, either in a group or as an individual, have one week to create a short film that will be screened at the end of the week, when the winners will be presented with their prizes.

“The workshop allowed the community hands on guidance to stop motion animation. It allowed me to make a cute 15 second animation in under 10 minutes,” Kraj said. “I even used the tools I learned for a final video project in my EAS 1600 class.”

Despite the various opportunities for students to experience all the museum has to offer as well as its free admittance, it can be difficult to overcome the notion that museums are not places that are meant to be explored.

“I see students that walk in before their classes in the building and sometimes there’s a look of ‘What’s this space? I’m not allowed in there,’” Howell said. “Yes, you are allowed, and we want you to come into the museum. This is your museum on campus, so utilize it.”

“I don’t expect our students to come out and be papermakers for the rest of their lives, although that would be fantastic,” Howell continued.

“But I do want students to come out of their experience with us, knowing that if there is something that they are passionate about they can follow that, and it doesn’t have to be a career, but having something that you want to keep learning about gives meaning to our lives.”

In addition to its workshops, the museum is currently displaying “Cut and Paste: Works of Paper,” an exhibit which showcases art from 11 different Georgia artists. The exhibit will run until Nov. 14.