The 1960s Civil Rights movement makes up a huge part of U.S. history curriculum, but like so many fact-based lectures, much of the humanity and connection to the present gets lost in translation. Sure, the education system officially made huge strides in racial inclusiveness thanks to a series of student-led protests on college campuses, but is that the whole story? Perhaps more importantly, are today’s students feeling the effects of that progress?

Agents of Change, a documentary co-directed by filmmaker Abby Ginzberg and educator Frank Dawson, sought to answer these questions. The movie was screened at University of Oregon’s Straub Hall on Thursday. Using a combination of archival images, interviews with student protestors and footage from recent Black Lives Matter marches, the film looks back on student-led demonstrations at San Francisco State in 1968 and Cornell University in 1969.

Agents of Change explores the conditions for students of color on college campuses nationwide and follows a group of student activists who successfully advocated for the creation of ethnic studies programs. Later, Ginzberg and Dawson use modern footage to suggest that today’s students face many of the same issues that plagued past generations.

The film is powerful, in part because movements like BLM have brought civil rights to the forefront of national dialogue. UO’s own racial imbalance mirrors the issues in the documentary. Seeing this film on a campus in which less than 2 percent of the student body is black increased its importance and urgency. Racial representation in higher education is a real issue, in need of real solutions. Agents of Change is successful in at least starting a conversation.

While powerful, the film isn’t perfect; it is inherently limited in its scope and aesthetic value. Like so many documentaries, it uses cliched techniques to enhance photographs, often expanding or cropping them in an attempt to make the past feel more alive. This is only partially effective, mostly because it is endlessly derivative of other films in the genre. There is little to suggest this film is trying to break new ground from a visual standpoint.

Other questionable choices hamper the film’s effectiveness. Ginzburg and Dawson reportedly took seven years to make Agents of Change, and their emphasis on factual accuracy appears expectedly sound as a result.

The attempts to lighten the mood with humorous anecdotes from the film’s interviewees are at once unnecessary and miscalculated. The few attempts at humor get only crickets, mostly due to their unnatural placement in the film’s sequence of events and the filmmakers’ inclusion of a light swing beat (presumably to let people know they should be laughing) overlaying the action.

More troubling is the way the filmmakers vilify the administrators and educators who stood in the students’ way during the San Francisco State protest. Then-president S.I. Hayakawa made headlines when he yanked wires out from the loud speakers of a protester’s van during a rally. It was already a needlessly aggressive act, but Ginzburg and Dawson take it one step further, inserting low, ominous music in a ploy to insist upon its aggressiveness. Is it necessary? Debatable. But it is excessively manipulative and distracting.

Documentaries built around social issues walk a fine line. When that line is walked correctly, they are endlessly relevant; if not, the films are usually toothless. Agents of Change falls somewhere in the middle. Despite its formal flaws, the questions it raises remain important to our campus and community. For that alone, it’s worth a watch.

Watch the trailer for Agents of Change here:

Partway through director Gavin O’Connor’s introspective thriller The Accountant, Ben Affleck stands in front of a re-rendering of Michelangelo’s famed painting on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Instead of depicting the hands of God and Adam reaching out to one another, the image instead displays a robotic hand reaching toward that of a human being. Affleck, as mathematics savant and assassin Christian Wolff, occupies the space in front of the robot, while the space in front of the human remains empty. The visual metaphor is at once striking and telling of Wolff’s character: He is reaching out, but no one is reciprocating the gesture.

In the film’s handful of small, revealing moments, The Accountant hints at something great. Christian Wolff bucks the trend of gritty action heroes post-Bourne Identity. Instead of brutal, he is definitively calculating. On his days off from cooking the books for terrorists and cartel bosses, he has a tightrope-like daily routine to which he adheres with a quiet, angry drive.

Affleck, as a self-described “high functioning autistic,” inhabits this role in the same tradition as Matt Damon’s Jason Bourne. It is not so much the actor’s performance, but the character’s isolation, rhythm and mystery that makes him compelling. Unfortunately, O’Connor and screenwriter Bill Dubuque spend far too much time actually solving the mystery.

The opening moments at least suggest something new and relatively unexplored. The story follows Wolff (not actually our hero’s real name, it turns out) as he’s hired to investigate the financial shortcomings of a well-respected robotics company (run by John Lithgow) with the help of charming but naive assistant Dana Cummings (Anna Kendrick). When the job is done, Wolff and Cummings find themselves hunted by a group of assassins (headed by The Walking Dead’s Jon Bernthal) and a fiercely determined Treasury agent (J.K. Simmons). Cue the badassery. Meanwhile, in between the Beautiful Mind-esque math sequences and fist fights, glimpses of Wolff’s past and origins occasionally reveal themselves.

There is plenty to like here, at least in the opening hour or so. Sleekness is this film’s savior from its inherent silliness. As much as it begs to be believed, Wolff’s status as a ninja-like crack shot crossed with Rain Man is too ridiculous a concept to hold much water. Luckily, O’Connor has a compelling sense of how to make it all flow together.

The movie is well-shot, with plenty of silvery, reflective surfaces and muted grays that construct a relatively subtle palette. It is a look that demands respect.

Cracks begin to appear, however, as this plot progresses. The Accountant may be an action film by design, but twists, turns and the sheer number of tertiary characters involved suggest a bloated, character-based television drama. The story intends to withhold information from the audience to prepare for a series of mind-blowing revelations at the film’s end, but these attempts to pull the rug out from the audience falter under the weight of pure confusion.

To truly fall for what O’Connor and Dubuque have planned requires an absurd suspension of disbelief, at which even the most heedless movie-goer would balk.

For all of its visual polish and occasionally subtle moments of character, The Accountant fails to construct a coherent story, which is a shame, if only because the Action Hero has been in dire need of a new archetype. This film may be about a genius, but it stumbles when it attempts to accomplish too many things at once.

Watch the trailer for The Accountant below:

Audiences have been flocking to theaters to see giant monsters since the early years of film. From the stop-motion puppets of the 1930s to the computer-generated destructive deities of recent years, these gigantic beasts never fail to entertain, even if the monster movie genre has waned at the American box office in recent years.

When Japanese film juggernaut Toho announced a reboot of its Godzilla franchise, I could feel a nostalgic tug on my heartstrings. The concept of a gigantic lizard plowing through billions of dollars in real estate was a concept I held dear throughout my elementary school days. And while the years have broadened my tastes a bit, there is never a time when Godzilla doesn’t get me a little excited.

So in light of the release of Godzilla: Resurgence (as well as a desire to express my childlike nerdiness), I’ve prepared a list of the five essential monster movies out there. For fans of fun, lighthearted camp, these should be required viewing:

King Kong (1933)

Is it dated? You bet. But it’s also one of the most influential movies ever made and a great example of early Hollywood special effects. More than 80 years later, it comes across as mostly charming. The sight of a giant gorilla scaling the Empire State Building is still incredibly striking, and the beast itself makes for a compellingly flawed hero. The fact that Kong’s pain can be felt through a puppet’s animated gaze is an achievement unto itself.

Godzilla (1954)

Before Godzilla became just a guy in a rubber suit fighting monsters, he was an allegory for the costs of nuclear war in this surprisingly grim film from director Ishiro Honda. The story follows a group of young scientists as they struggle to decide whether to capture Godzilla for study or simply destroy him. Even though it’s easy to see the silliness in this one 60 years after its release (the destroyed buildings look more like models with every passing day), it’s worth watching for its meaningful postwar message.

Godzilla vs. Megalon (1973)

Those looking for a laugh should check out this madcap monstrosity, which features Godzilla teaming up with a brightly colored robot named Jet Jaguar (an unapologetic Ultraman rip-off) to defeat a bug monster. Also included: American actor Robert Dunham as the toga-wearing emperor of “Seatopia.” This movie is beyond stupid, and is best known for being mocked on an episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000. But it’s so unintentionally hilarious that excluding it seemed disingenuous. So bad, it’s incredible.

Pacific Rim (2013)

Guillermo del Toro’s love letter to creature features is the highest-budgeted film on this list, and arguably the most entertaining. While the attempts at character drama fall flat, watching giant robots (Jaegers) fight giant monsters (Kaiju) in extravagantly detailed environments has never been more awesome to look at. This is basically Transformers, but it’s actually good.  And there’s already a sequel in the works. Sign me up.

Godzilla (2014)

Director Gareth Edwards’ take on Godzilla’s origin story includes the best human performances in the genre. The decision to portray the titular King of Monsters as an unstoppable force of nature pays huge dividends. Even if the big guy himself is only onscreen for around 10 minutes, his presence looms so large over the film’s two hours that it’s hard to even notice. This is the best monster movie since the original Godzilla and a great piece of popcorn entertainment. Think Jaws, if the shark was the size of a skyscraper.

Watch the trailer for Toho’s Godzilla: Resurgence below:

The Girl on the Train opens on a disheveled-looking Emily Blunt, gazing out the window of a train (what else?) while the outskirts of New York pass her by. As protagonist Rachel Watson, Blunt embodies a character type we haven’t seen from her before. She looks decidedly frantic, yet distant, reaching for some sort of human connection while simultaneously dreading the chance to muck it all up.

It is a striking performance, but one that is almost immediately drowned out by a ridiculous overwritten monologue. Delivered via voice-over in whispered tones (a trend that will only continue over the film’s 112 minutes), Rachel reflects on the concept of love, relationships, and the pitfalls of an ‘overactive imagination’ in long, flowing and overwrought terms. It is impossible to shake the feeling of inauthenticity this sequence (and by extension, the entire film) generates.

The setup is promising at least. The Girl on the Train, based on the 2015 best-selling novel by Paula Hawkins, follows Rachel as she tries to uncover the truth behind the disappearance of a young woman named Megan (Haley Bennett). While Rachel searches for clues, she also battles the grief associated with her suave, self-centered ex-husband Tom (Justin Theroux) and his new wife Ana (Rebecca Ferguson). As Rachel’s worsening alcoholism makes her an easy prime suspect for Detective Sgt. Riley (Allison Janney), Megan’s past comes into focus to reveal secrets of her own.

It’s all very mysterious and exciting on paper. But director Tate Taylor can’t lift the material above its inherent pulpiness. Though this should be thrilling stuff, Taylor regularly cripples any sense of urgency with his ineptitude behind the camera. The frame frantically jumps around at an uneasy frequency. The editing cuts from one shot to the next with very little awareness of dramatic flow, and Danny Elfman’s score is unreasonably overwhelming, filling small, tense moments with an unending barrage of ponderous noises.

There is also very little sense that any of this story is of consequence. This lack of importance can partly be blamed on screenwriter Erin Cressida Wilson, who throws far too much information at the audience for any of it to really matter. It’s hard to care about a character when we’re knee deep in their suburban drama in less than five minutes.

The film also appears to take place within an insular bubble, cut off from the outside world. According to the credits, there are only nine people who actually contribute to the proceedings, which seems ridiculous considering the film takes place in a New York suburb. Normally the disappearance of a young, beautiful woman would cause some widespread concern within a community. Watching The Girl on the Train suggests the opposite.

And while Blunt is at least interesting to watch, she proves the only capable presence onscreen. Try as they might, Ferguson and Bennett cannot match their co-star. But who can really blame them, when the script forces their characters to recite unintentionally laughable dialogue and forgoes logic to a gradually increasing degree?

This film wants desperately to be better than it really is. But by the time credits roll, it’s easy to ask how anyone could care. It’s hard to do better when the finished product looks and feels like a mishandled, inconsequential television pilot. It intends to thrill, but in the end, only frustrates.

Watch the trailer for The Girl on the Train below:

The Girl on the Train opens on a disheveled-looking Emily Blunt, gazing out the window of a train (what else?) while the outskirts of New York pass her by. As protagonist Rachel Watson, Blunt embodies a character type we haven’t seen from her before. She looks decidedly frantic, yet distant, reaching for some sort of human connection while simultaneously dreading the chance to muck it all up.

It is a striking performance, but one that is almost immediately drowned out by a ridiculous overwritten monologue. Delivered via voice-over in whispered tones (a trend that will only continue over the film’s 112 minutes), Rachel reflects on the concept of love, relationships, and the pitfalls of an ‘overactive imagination’ in long, flowing and overwrought terms. It is impossible to shake the feeling of inauthenticity this sequence (and by extension, the entire film) generates.

The setup is promising at least. The Girl on the Train, based on the 2015 best-selling novel by Paula Hawkins, follows Rachel as she tries to uncover the truth behind the disappearance of a young woman named Megan (Haley Bennett). While Rachel searches for clues, she also battles the grief associated with her suave, self-centered ex-husband Tom (Justin Theroux) and his new wife Ana (Rebecca Ferguson). As Rachel’s worsening alcoholism makes her an easy prime suspect for Detective Sgt. Riley (Allison Janney), Megan’s past comes into focus to reveal secrets of her own.

It’s all very mysterious and exciting on paper. But director Tate Taylor can’t lift the material above its inherent pulpiness. Though this should be thrilling stuff, Taylor regularly cripples any sense of urgency with his ineptitude behind the camera. The frame frantically jumps around at an uneasy frequency. The editing cuts from one shot to the next with very little awareness of dramatic flow, and Danny Elfman’s score is unreasonably overwhelming, filling small, tense moments with an unending barrage of ponderous noises.

There is also very little sense that any of this story is of consequence. This lack of importance can partly be blamed on screenwriter Erin Cressida Wilson, who throws far too much information at the audience for any of it to really matter. It’s hard to care about a character when we’re knee deep in their suburban drama in less than five minutes.

The film also appears to take place within an insular bubble, cut off from the outside world. According to the credits, there are only nine people who actually contribute to the proceedings, which seems ridiculous considering the film takes place in a New York suburb. Normally the disappearance of a young, beautiful woman would cause some widespread concern within a community. Watching The Girl on the Train suggests the opposite.

And while Blunt is at least interesting to watch, she proves the only capable presence onscreen. Try as they might, Ferguson and Bennett cannot match their co-star. But who can really blame them, when the script forces their characters to recite unintentionally laughable dialogue and forgoes logic to a gradually increasing degree?

This film wants desperately to be better than it really is. But by the time credits roll, it’s easy to ask how anyone could care. It’s hard to do better when the finished product looks and feels like a mishandled, inconsequential television pilot. It intends to thrill, but in the end, only frustrates.

Watch the trailer for The Girl on the Train below:

In 1915, D.W. Griffith released The Birth of a Nation and forever changed the cinematic landscape. Epic in scope and sweepingly influential, the film is still held in high technical regard for its editing and cinematography. It is also, even by early 20th century standards, shockingly racist.

In telling the story of the Civil War and subsequent reconstruction from a Southern, pro-segregation perspective, Griffith used white actors in blackface to depict African Americans as sex-crazed savages preying on white people. The result was the Ku Klux Klan’s revitalization and more than a century’s worth of perpetuated racist attitudes.

Nate Parker’s use of the film’s title for the story of the 1831 Nat Turner slave rebellion is at once deliberate and provocative. The uprising, which took place in Southhampton County, Virginia, left 65 slave owners dead, while hundreds of slaves were killed in the resulting panic among whites throughout the South. To take on such a subject is a challenge for any filmmaker, and this is Parker’s first feature as both writer and director.

Whether Parker found success behind the camera is up for debate, but the film is filled with fine performances, especially from Parker in the starring role. He embodies the deeply religious Turner with fervor, igniting the screen with passionate sermons while still hitting the right notes during tender moments. Aja Naomi King provides an empathetic turn as Turner’s wife Cherry, while Armie Hammer is adequate as Turner’s slave master, Samuel.

While these performances are genuine and moving, they are far from extraordinary. The same could be said for the film as a whole. To his credit, Parker does not turn away from the shocking violence at the core of slavery. Several sequences display unnatural horrors with unrelenting realism.

But Parker also dabbles in the surreal, offering up a number of dream sequences scattered throughout the film’s two hours. While visually effective (thanks to wonderful cinematography from Elliot Davis), their repeated use is clumsy and thematically ineffective. Blatant symbolism is rampant as well. Few films feature religious imagery this blunt.

Turner’s characterization is also problematic. While at first portrayed as a peaceful, righteous man, a series of horrific events turn him from an agent of peace and obedience to one of violent leadership. As much as Parker tries, he fails to completely justify this transformation. The result is a brutal, heart-pounding final act that feels unearned.

Still, Parker’s ability to capture the sheer power of these events from a purely technical perspective is impressive. The images onscreen are well framed and present the South as a painterly landscape with harsh realities lurking below the surface. And when the violence finally erupts, Parker holds your gaze through it all. It becomes impossible to look away.

All of this adds up to a film that does a lot right, but can’t quite reach the heights it intends. While impressive for a first-time director, it settles for being simply good. This story, and its reclaimed title, deserves a masterpiece.

Watch the trailer for The Birth of a Nation below:

We are six films into the career of stupidity maestro Jared Hess. In that time, he’s given us Napoleon Dynamite, Nacho Libre and Gentlemen Broncos, all of which revel in the shenanigans of the weird and dim-witted. His unabashed love of both makes him the best and worst choice for Masterminds, a new comedy loosely based on the 1997 Loomis Fargo robbery, in which eight co-conspirators made off with $17.3 million in cash from a regional office vault in North Carolina.

Zach Galifanakis stars as David Scott Ghantt, an airheaded but well-meaning vault supervisor unhappily engaged to Jandice (Kate McKinnon), but happily crushing on his manipulative partner Kelly Campbell (a dynamite Kristen Wiig). When Campbell approaches Ghantt with a scheme to rob the vault courtesy of her fiendish childhood friend and local crook Steve Chambers (Owen Wilson on autopilot), Ghantt jumps at the opportunity to escape the clutches of his fiancé and run away with his supposed new lover. Except Campbell and Chambers are double-crossing schemers, there’s a fierce FBI agent (Leslie Jones) on the case and an eccentric psychopath (Jason Sudeikis) will stop at nothing to kill Ghantt.

Not to mention: they’re all idiots.

This sort of ridiculousness lives and dies on its cast. Luckily, Galifanakis, Wiig, and Sudeikis are there to deliver, when they’re given room to riff. Much of the best dialogue feels unmistakably improvised. Galifanakis, in particular, rattles off bizarre sayings (spoken in a ludicrous North Carolinian drawl) on a hilariously consistent basis. Wiig takes advantage of every uncomfortable silence and somehow imbues each one with laughs. Meanwhile, Sudeikis seems right at home inhabiting the enigma of his character. Describing the assassin he is tasked with playing is a momentous task; rest assured, he will make you chuckle, even when you don’t understand why.

But outside of the freewheeling moments that give the cast some room to breathe, Masterminds is a mess. Much of this should be laid at the feet of the five (!) writers who have all touched the script at one point or another. The inconsistency is jarring, especially as the weirdness is gradually cranked up to 11. Going from funny to completely bonkers is fine, provided that some of it feels earned. Unfortunately, there comes a point at which the whole thing is too stupid for its own good.

In the hands of a director capable of moderation, something decent could have been salvaged. Instead, Hess takes every opportunity to latch on to slapstick and gross-out gags, with decidedly mixed results. The heist itself is gold, mostly thanks to Galifanakis’ convincing physical comedy chops. Later on, however, we’re forced to sit there watching some characters fall over, fart in public and break through cheap-looking doorways. The only thing missing is a canned laugh track.

Masterminds is at its best in the moments when it reminds us that some of this actually happened. When it does, it plays like Fargo for idiots; the accents and eccentricities of the characters feel ridiculous, but just inside the realm of possibility enough to be gut-busting. Outside of those moments, it’s a half-funny exercise in people being stupid.

Watch the trailer for Masterminds below:

Biopics are tricky. Striking a respectful, non-exploitive tone in a film about real events involving real people is challenging and will remain so as long as the genre exists. Director Peter Berg and writers Matthew Michael Carnahan and Matthew Sand must have known this during the making of Deepwater Horizon. Every frame unflinchingly portrays the worst oil rig disaster in U.S. history, but few beats feel unmerited.

Watching it all unfold is a visceral experience, but the intensity is matched by a commitment to recognize genuine heroism. It is this commitment that saves the film from its minor but unmistakable flaws.

The film follows a team of oil rig workers on the titular Deepwater Horizon offshore drilling unit, led by Jimmy Harrell (Kurt Russell) and Mike Williams (Mark Wahlberg). On a routine assignment, it becomes clear to both men that safety protocols and procedures have been preempted due to growing pressure from upper management (led by John Malkovich) to keep operations on schedule. Harrell is furious but eventually bows to the power of his superiors and opens the rig for drilling. Work is cut short when an explosion and resulting oil spill engulfs the entire platform in flames, turning a minor inconvenience into a life-threatening nightmare for the entire crew.

Berg and his screenwriters commit a great deal of running time to creating an atmosphere of dread. This film does not exist in a vacuum, and odds are most of the audience will enter the theater knowing what happened. This reality makes the buildup of watching characters make mistake after mistake even more effective.

To that end, Berg takes great care in creating camaraderie between the crew members. Dialogue bounces back and forth across decks and hallways, and long, panning shots display a rig hard at work; it provides just enough characterization for these people to matter. That makes the inevitable disaster unbearable. It’s possible to feel the tension in the air build for at least half an hour before the shoe drops.

And what a drop it is. Once the horrific events of the day begin to unfold, it’s easy to be consumed by the experience. Flames leap out from every corner of the frame while low rumbles and earth-shattering blasts fill the air. It’s impossible to look away. This film exists from the gut, and it will rattle you to the core. It is also technically flawless, using stunning visual and aural craft.

Like the machinery itself, Deepwater Horizon’s flaws exist deep below the surface. Peter Berg is a well-documented patriot; his last few films didn’t skimp out on epic, well-framed shots of a triumphant American flag. This one is no exception.

But by displaying the symbol of the U.S. in front of horrific, flaming wreckage, what is he hoping to accomplish? A commentary on corporate greed sounds too disrespectful and a mediation on heroism too simple-minded. And while the characters are deliberately bare-bones, Williams’ climactic acts of bravery feel slightly unearned from a narrative standpoint, even with a solid amount of time dedicated to establishing the importance of his family.

Still, aesthetic brilliance and narrative restraint may be enough for some to overlook Horizon’s pitfalls. While its greatness is up for debate, its importance in recognizing the true power of that day’s events is unmatched.

Watch the trailer for Deepwater Horizon below:

University of Oregon’s promotional websites suggest a concerted effort to keep the campus green. The UO Office of Sustainability’s website reads, “Our mission is to lead the integration of sustainability into the University of Oregon’s operations, curriculum […] and engagement with the broader community.”

One student organization on campus seeks to turn such promotion into tangible results. The Climate Justice League meets every Tuesday, focusing on environmental issues on campus and within the Eugene community.

CJL’s annual goals usually revolve around issue-driven campaigns established early in the academic year. According to co-president Hannah Greenberg, the focus of each campaign can vary, and sometimes even concerns off-campus issues.

“We’ve done many campaigns, usually two or three every year,” Greenberg said. “When I first started [in 2013], we were committed to an e-waste campaign called Transition, building gardens for community members.”

Transition allowed CJL to build community and household gardens for Eugene residents who wouldn’t have ordinarily had access to them. “We started an application for people to contact us, and we would go build a garden at their house,” Greenberg recalled. “We built around four or five gardens in total.”

CJL’s membership has remained relatively consistent since its founding. A core group of members numbers anywhere from 20 to 30 students, while attendance at the organization’s meetings usually balloons to around 40.

“It varies from meeting to meeting,” Blick said. “But we definitely have people who are very invested in CJL throughout the year.”

Recently, CJL has shifted its focus away from the larger Eugene community toward issues directly related to campus. Selena Blick, CJL’s newly elected co-president, pointed out that the university’s relatively good track record on environmental issues does not mean there isn’t work to be done.

“I think there are a lot of things [the university does] that are good. We have an awesome zero waste program and a lot of our buildings are really sustainable,” Blick said. “But there are things like the use of fossil fuels that they just choose not to deal with. So I think we could be a lot better.”

This year, Blick and the rest of CJL spearheaded the controversial Divest UO campaign, which sought to divest the UO Foundation from fossil fuels. Efforts included numerous sit-ins throughout the year, as well as protests outside Johnson Hall.

Blick noted that the university-focused campaigns like Divest UO have allowed for direct dialogues and involvement with the administration. For a recent campaign, CJL contacted UO’s dining services to advocate for the use of reusable cups in dining halls around campus.

“[Contacting the administration] is usually the route we choose to take first,” Blick said. “With Divest, they told us ‘no,’ so we chose to take more direct action.”

The Climate Justice League continued their Divest UO campaign in a meeting with University of Oregon’s Board of Trustees on Thursday, June 2 in the Ford Alumni Center.

University of Oregon’s promotional websites suggest a concerted effort to keep the campus green. The UO Office of Sustainability’s website reads, “Our mission is to lead the integration of sustainability into the University of Oregon’s operations, curriculum […] and engagement with the broader community.”

One student organization on campus seeks to turn such promotion into tangible results. The Climate Justice League meets every Tuesday, focusing on environmental issues on campus and within the Eugene community.

CJL’s annual goals usually revolve around issue-driven campaigns established early in the academic year. According to co-president Hannah Greenberg, the focus of each campaign can vary, and sometimes even concerns off-campus issues.

“We’ve done many campaigns, usually two or three every year,” Greenberg said. “When I first started [in 2013], we were committed to an e-waste campaign called Transition, building gardens for community members.”

Transition allowed CJL to build community and household gardens for Eugene residents who wouldn’t have ordinarily had access to them. “We started an application for people to contact us, and we would go build a garden at their house,” Greenberg recalled. “We built around four or five gardens in total.”

CJL’s membership has remained relatively consistent since its founding. A core group of members numbers anywhere from 20 to 30 students, while attendance at the organization’s meetings usually balloons to around 40.

“It varies from meeting to meeting,” Blick said. “But we definitely have people who are very invested in CJL throughout the year.”

Recently, CJL has shifted its focus away from the larger Eugene community toward issues directly related to campus. Selena Blick, CJL’s newly elected co-president, pointed out that the university’s relatively good track record on environmental issues does not mean there isn’t work to be done.

“I think there are a lot of things [the university does] that are good. We have an awesome zero waste program and a lot of our buildings are really sustainable,” Blick said. “But there are things like the use of fossil fuels that they just choose not to deal with. So I think we could be a lot better.”

This year, Blick and the rest of CJL spearheaded the controversial Divest UO campaign, which sought to divest the UO Foundation from fossil fuels. Efforts included numerous sit-ins throughout the year, as well as protests outside Johnson Hall.

Blick noted that the university-focused campaigns like Divest UO have allowed for direct dialogues and involvement with the administration. For a recent campaign, CJL contacted UO’s dining services to advocate for the use of reusable cups in dining halls around campus.

“[Contacting the administration] is usually the route we choose to take first,” Blick said. “With Divest, they told us ‘no,’ so we chose to take more direct action.”

The Climate Justice League continued their Divest UO campaign in a meeting with University of Oregon’s Board of Trustees on Thursday, June 2 in the Ford Alumni Center.