“Women who wear black lead colorful lives,” says senior psychology major Maeve Sloan, quoting Neiman Marcus. While Sloan may not wear bright flashy colors, her typically all-black ensemble has proven effective in helping her establish her own distinctive style.

“I think it’s easy to notice someone who wears all black, actually, especially at Whitman where I think people wear like, a lot of prints and a lot of flannel, and … a lot of puffy jackets and stuff,” Sloan said.

Describing her own preferred wear, Sloan says, “I pretty much always have a long, black sweater of sorts on, like floor-length, which is, I think, maybe, a little bit weird to some people.” Additionally, as she points out, “I [usually] have like … punk black boots, and my black really high-wasted pants.” The most distinctive features of her style, according to Sloan, are her constantly down bangs and her consistent use of lipstick.

The key, for Sloan, is wearing strictly black, as wearing a color typically makes her feel “pretty uncomfortable.” While she may use jewelry and lipstick as a “palate,” in her words, for other color, she does stress that “my whole closet is black, and my shoes are black.”

This distinctiveness, while not constantly on Sloan’s mind, is something of a conscious effort. “I’ve really tried to keep myself really, like, true to who I am,” Sloan said.

Photo by Missy Gerlach

“I remember in freshman year thinking that I like, needed to buy Clogs and needed to buy Birkenstocks, and then I mentioned it to my mom and she was like, ‘That is not what you wear, Maeve. You wear, like, heeled boots and like, that’s just not what you do.’ And ever since she said that to me, I was like, ‘Alright, whatever, I’m just gonna wear whatever I want.’”

Sloan stresses that her preference for black is not a reflection of a dark personality. “My personality is not very dark, and I’m like, pretty talkative and social,” Sloan said. “I think it kinda surprises people that I dress the way I do sometimes.”

Instead, Sloan’s fashion choices are, in many ways, representative of the many places she’s lived. Referencing her current home in New Mexico, Sloan says, “I like to wear really Southwestern pieces to kind of show I’m from a different place, because people will always ask, ‘Where did you get those?’ and then I’ll say, ‘I got them from Albuquerque,’ and they’re like, ‘Why’d you go to Albuquerque?’ and I’m like ‘I live there!’ which is not common here [at Whitman].”

Additionally, Sloan mentioned, “I was influenced a lot by living in Paris, and I saw … all the girls and they’re like, all black and red lipstick and they all had bangs. So I think that’s definitely influenced a lot of what I wear.”

Growing up, Sloan recalled an incident where a teacher dissuaded her from wearing pants that “showed off” her hips. Though not thinking much of it at the time, Sloan now prefers to “wear things that really, like, show the female form,” stating, “I think that’s a beautiful thing, and I think that more women should do that and not feel self-conscious about doing that.”

Lastly, Sloan, as a senior on the verge of graduation, stresses the importance of not changing when you come to Whitman. Though she acknowledges the difficulty to resist the temptation of fitting in, she adds that, “I think it’s such a cool thing and such a beautiful thing to be able to stick out here and have people recognize you as your own entity and your own identity.”

For senior politics majors Gladys Gitau and Shireen Nori, the fact that they would be graduating a mere semester after beginning “The Minority Report” was not an issue in deciding to start the show.

“We had been talking about doing a radio show for the past three years, and it never worked out,” Nori said, citing various scheduling issues and their own study abroad commitments. “We were finally able to get a slot this semester.”

According to Gitau, “There was a certain … counterculture we existed [in] as … students of color on [the] Whitman campus, that never really got any [radio] play or any recognition or any visibility.” Their show, therefore, was designed to run contrary to this apparent voicelessness, and spread the message that, in Gitau’s words, “the POC kids are still alive, and they’re doing events, so you should check them out.”

In choosing the show’s name, Nori stated: “We were looking for something that was gonna be kind of catchy and grab people’s attention.” The fact that “The Minority Report” shares a title with a 2002 Tom Cruise film did not go unnoticed by them; as Nori points out, upon learning the show’s name, “People are like ‘the Tom Cruise movie?’ And we’re like no, just two brown kids trying to have a radio show.”

Photo by Jillian Briglia

A typical episode of “The Minority Report” begins with a shout-out to the FCC – a response to message they received from the organization early on stating that the show was being monitored – and then features a segment called “Woke Folk of the Week.” According to Nori, “It’s like essentially the person who’s like most ‘woke,’ and it can be anyone.” Past persons featured in this segment have included DJ Khaled, professors and persons involved with the Power and Privilege Symposium and the Freedom Songs Concert.

After that, Nori said, “We play a couple songs – something that we’re feeling that week.” The songs are usually themed to whatever guest is visiting the show that week. The hosts then engage in conversation with the guest(s), who discuss what they do and why they’re appearing.

For Gitau, it’s imperative that the show “is discussing Whitman as a space that’s important, that supports but also sort of ignores students of color, queer students, low income students and talking about what is our relationship to the campus.”

Getting the chance to interact with students from outside Whitman was a particularly memorable show for the duo. “We had a couple friends who were in town who came to see Power and Privilege,” Gitau recalled. “[We talked] to them about what the conversations are like on their campuses, and what are they doing to stay active on their campuses to combat the same things that we are here.”

“Every show for us is kind of special because it … usually centers around something,” Nori said. “It’s not just about us, it’s about inviting our friends, inviting community members, having people on the show who have something that could really uplift or enhance that show or, just in general, the topics we’re discussing.”

Speaking of KWCW, Nori said, “There’s space for creativity, and there’s space to like, say what you want you want to say, and engage in discussions … that push boundaries.” Additionally, according to Nori, “It’s really fascinating and kinda fun for us to think about the fact that like, this is Walla Walla radio, right, so it’s not just Whitman students and Whitman community members that are listening to it. Somebody can turn on the radio on Thursday night at 9:00 p.m. and hear the both of us talk about something like intersectionality.”

As to who should listen to the show, Gitau stated, “I would recommend it to everyone because I think … there’s a lot of pieces of it that are relatable.” She continued, “[We] talk about things that are relevant, whether that’s on campus or in the world. So even if you don’t know what we’re talking about, you can relate to something that you’ve heard or something that you know for yourself.”

Addressing their show’s limited run, Gitau added that, “We just hope things like this continue happening and the people have the bravery to not only speak out against oppressions, but also have fun, right? Like don’t just sign up for doing emotional labor … have a radio show and hang out and like do things that challenge you creatively.”

“The Minority Report” airs every Thursday night from 9p.m.-10p.m. on KWCW 90.5 FM.

Sometimes, you really just can’t fight that urge to get up and dance. Fortunately, when that happens, there’s a club tailor-made for you.

Whitman junior Aidan McCormick first checked out the college’s Social Dance Club at the insistence of senior Andrew Wildman, who was recommending the club to members of the Sigma Chi fraternity. He soon found he enjoyed the club’s signature activity–social dance–and since then, he has been routinely attending the weekly meetings. The club meets on Tuesdays from 7 to 8:30 p.m. in Sherwood 223.

The club makes a point of being receptive to newcomers. “It’s definitely very open to beginners,” Wildman said. “The most experienced dancers are mostly the leaders in the club,” he added, and thus they act as the instructors for newcomers. Wildman stated that “[i]t’s also fun to teach people.”

“In general, as with all forms of dance, it’s kind of hard to pick up,” Wildman said. “But once you do, it gets really fun.”

Lauren Benedict, who joined the club in the fall semester, agreed, citing the dynamic between the “leads” and the “follows.” During a dance, “The ‘lead’ has to decide what to do one step in advance and they have to commit to it. So the whole time they are constantly thinking about both what they are dancing and the next move. But ‘follows’ have to pay so much attention to their lead so that they can expect the next move and not get left behind. Both are hard but so much fun!”

There is some occasional independent learning going on in the club, as sometimes the group will attempt to “learn some extra moves from the internet.” The bulk of club activity, however, is simply the dancing itself.

While McCormick states that swing is the club’s preferred style of dance, Wildman notes that the group also performs dance in salsa, waltz, and meringue styles. Sometimes, the dances can be more unique, as Wildman recalled:

“There’s this one [dance] called the Shorty George, which involves locking your knees together, squatting down as low as you can, putting your hands by [your] armpits, and waddling across the room. So we did that for a good solid thirty minutes. That was a good time.”

A typical club meeting, according to McCormick, usually hosts around six to eight students. He added that “[w]e’re always looking for new people.”

The club also performs a number of activities outside of the meetings themselves. They have performed in Walla Walla’s Best Dance Crew in the past, and will do so again this year. Additionally, on April 4, the club put on its annual all-school dance, called the Spring Swing, in which students were invited to learn swing dancing and free dance with the club. This year, contrasting with the norm, students “kept coming in” over the course of the show, leading to a lot more individual instruction than usual.

One of Benedict’s favorite club memories, according to her, was at a Sigma Chi event where she realized most of the club’s members were present. “[W]e took over the music and started dancing to Ke$ha and more classic swing songs. It was so much fun and made me really realize how good I’d gotten by dancing every week and how much I loved the social dance group.”

“[G]oing to that first meeting was one of the best decisions I made this year,” Benedict said, “because I discovered I absolutely love to swing dance.” With that in mind, it may be worthwhile to consider taking a swing at Social Dance Club.

He may delight in suffering and despair, but even Satan, Lord of Darkness, can sometimes feel weighed down by the pressure of his job. When that happens, the Father of Lies says there is no better relaxation than grooving to his favorite dance beats on the radio.

“There just aren’t that many great dance stations out there anymore,” asserted the Prince of the Devils. “You can always find tons of dance songs on the radio, but they’re always mixed into all the other pop junk. My goal with Dance with the Devil is to bring my favorite club hits into one show.”

The Angel of the Bottomless Pit, impaling several writing souls on a skewer as he spoke, mentioned that, despite popular perception, he is not a fan of hard rock or heavy metal. “I mean, I like some of the album covers–those are always very lovely, even if they don’t really capture my look all that well–but the music never got me. Much too rough. I barely even come up to the human world anymore. Every time I respond to someone’s call, they’re always playing Slayer or Slipknot or some other death metal band, and I’ve just never gotten into that stuff.”

The Lord of the Underworld went on to mention that he would never forgive the Rolling Stones for their utter desecration of his name. “As if I cared whatsoever about the Kennedys. Mick Jagger won’t be getting any sympathy from me, let me tell you.”

By contrast, however, a good dance rhythm has always appealed to Beelzebub. “Whenever I’m starting to feel tired of the whole eternal-damnation gig, I’ll just turn on some Eurythmics and let myself go. They’ve got such entrancing beats, and anytime I listen to them I just get a great feeling, like I don’t have a care in the underworld. And when I’m done I just feel so rejuvenated. I’ll just whip someone for hours on end, humming ‘Sweet Dreams (are Made of This).’ The original, of course.”

The Accuser of our Brethren mentioned that his definition of dance can be fairly broad at times, including some new wave and even disco, but is largely comprised of electronic dance music. “It varies from century to century of course. I almost gave up on dance after all those terrible danse macabres. But all this electronic stuff has really added new life to this genre of music. I just can’t get over it.”

Asked on why he chose to broadcast his new show at KWCW, of all places, the Crooked Serpent smiled and said “well, I figured all of you should get used to my kind of music. You’ll all be joining me soon enough, after all.” The Wicked One then proceeded to laugh maniacally as he roasted screaming souls on a spit, before loudly humming Snap!’s “The Power.”

“Dance with the Devil” airs on KWCW from 13:39 p.m. to 6:66 p.m. on Sundays. Radio users wishing to listen must calibrate their radios to receives signals backwards as all music is played in reverse. Viewers with sensitive eardrums should be aware that the music is occasionally punctuated by the screams of the damned.

Photo by Madaline Stevens

Before coming to Whitman College, first-year Shannon Zander was expecting that her unique style of dress might fade away, sticking out too much in an environment where “people are generally … laid-back and casual in the way they dress.” Instead, however, her flair for heels and dresses only grew stronger.

“I found that I don’t mind standing out,” said Zander. “I prefer just being true to my general aesthetic.”

As a result, by her own admission, Zander has become well known as “the one who always wears heels on 8:00 a.m. classes at Mondays.” Though that’s not an entirely accurate depiction, as, according to Zander, she’s a bit more relaxed with her style most mornings.

“I will say the way I dress in the mornings and the way I dress in the afternoons is fundamentally different because I am not a morning person,” said Zander. “[M]orning classes – yeah, I’m wearing jeans. But afternoons [it’s …] dresses, heels, etc.”

Zander summed up her typical look as “Senator’s wife who’s low-key running things.”

For Zander, a pair of heels is the most important part of her ensemble. “There’s just something about a putting on heels which, well, not only makes me feel taller […], but also just lifts my mood. Like I could be sitting in the library doing homework, but it feels so much more important when I’m wearing heels.” Her more formal wear seems to have an acute impact on her productivity, as “whenever I wear sweatpants, it just feels kind like laid-back […] and I feel myself getting distracted […]. But when I’m really like, dressed to impress, I feel like I’m more able to focus.”

Naming her favorite piece of clothing, Zander singled out a scarf she owns with dogs on it. “It’s just great.”

The most important part of any style, according to Zander, is simply that “it should be natural, it should be an extension of yourself.” With that in mind, Zander will preserve her self-described “tailored, but still very modest” look as long as it suits her.

For a film that begins by presenting a damning social statistic – more Americans have been killed in Chicago in the last decade than in Iraq and Afghanistan combined – Spike Lee’s “Chi-Raq” is curiously, but not pointlessly, lighthearted.

The film, taking its name from a portmanteau of “Chicago” and “Iraq” used by South Side Chicago residents, is the first feature film distributed by e-commerce giant Amazon’s media division, Amazon Studios. The movie saw a small theatrical release on Dec. 4 before arriving on digital purchase platforms by month’s end, and is now available to stream from Amazon’s Prime subscription service. It follows in the footsteps of Netflix’s “Beasts of No Nation,” which paved the way for streaming services to begin releasing films of their own.

Like “Beasts,” Amazon’s first feature is a socially conscious picture with a known talent behind the camera, centering on the damages of violence in the community. But the similarities between the two films seem to end around there. While “Beasts” is a bleak, harsh drama focusing on the plight of child soldiers in a non-specific country, “Chi-Raq” is a satirical farce about the consequences of gun violence in a very specific area: Chicago’s South Side.

Adapted from the Greek play “Lysistrata” by Aristophanes – a point which the film’s fourth-wall-breaking narrator (Samuel L. Jackson) comments on – “Chi-Raq” retains the source material’s usage of rhyming verse, but otherwise updates the setting and characters. When an innocent child is caught in a drive-by shooting, Lysistrata (Teyonah Parris) organizes a sex strike among the community’s women, vowing that the men will not get any “piece” until there is “peace.”

The movement proves extraordinarily inspirational, sparking similar movements around the world, leading many women in positions of power to join them. A one-off joke insinuates that even the (unnamed) First Lady has joined the cause, putting powerful pressure on community leadership as well as the gangs. The men, however, refuse to cave, plotting numerous schemes to subvert the cause. But for all the zaniness of the film’s story, it’s still a film with something to say – and it gets the message across.

The film is very solid in the acting department. In addition to Teyonah Parris’ striking turn in the lead role, Nick Cannon, playing the male lead, also proves his own talent, joining the ranks of Ice Cube and Common in the pantheon of rappers-turned-actors. Lee regulars Samuel L. Jackson and Wesley Snipes make noteworthy appearances, along with Angela Bassett and Jennifer Hudson. John Cusack, playing the local minister, is a major scene-stealer, providing much of the film’s moralizing, urging on the women and guiding Cannon’s character to confess his sins.

The film is also well-made on a technical level. Good cinematography and tight editing help focus the viewer’s attention, and the movie keeps its surprises close to the chest until they’re ready to be revealed. The music fits smoothly, and Cannon’s “Pray 4 My City,” which opens the film, is a more potent and memorable piece than Common’s Oscar-winning “Glory,” despite its absence from this year’s awards race. The only notable technical annoyance is the appearance of onscreen text messages, which can be very distracting.

More than anything else, though, “Chi-Raq” is a movie about damages. The street violence that sets off the movie’s main conflict is not constantly on display, but it forms the undercurrent behind every character’s actions. There is no singular source that “Chi-Raq” attempts to blame for it, but the consequences are as far-reaching and shocking as the film’s resultant sex strike. The notion of gang violence as a cycle is addressed, and Lee suggests that with each generation, the effects are growing worse and worse. Though it possesses a light and humorous touch, “Chi-Raq” is a sharp and swift indictment of urban violence and a call to disarm that should not be taken lightly.

Photo by Keifer Nace.

Junior Kira Deshler is no stranger to the radio station. Her show “Anthems and Airwaves” has been broadcasting on KWCW ever since her first semester at Whitman. Despite this, she’s had no issues keeping the show fun and interesting both for her audience and herself.

“I really like the way it forces me to look at new music,” says Deshler, who says the show helps her discover tunes that she would otherwise have possibly never encountered. “It kind of broadens my horizons of what’s out there,” she added.

“Anthems” is all about the music, but as to what kind of music, Deshler has no set standards apart from whether or not she enjoys it herself. Some of her favorite genres include alternative rock, electro-pop, acoustic songs, and folk music. However, except for a dislike for metal and country, Deshler’s setlists can often encompass a wide range of genres.

“I usually have a different theme each week,” says Deshler, whether that be a musical theme or a “theme that’s not necessarily sonically cohesive.” One of her recent shows, for example, had a theme of 1970’s rock, and in the past she has chosen themes such as punk or acoustic.

In addition to the music, “Anthems” also provides a wide variety of trivia facts for listeners. “I think learning about how songs were written [or] the inspiration for songs or albums is really interesting,” says Deshler. In total, Deshler estimates that this portion of the show takes up about twenty minutes, which is spread across the show’s two-hour runtime.

Citing an example of some of the trivia she’s discussed, she says “[Fleetwood Mac’s] album ‘Rumours,’ [was] recorded while they were all breaking up with each other.” She goes on to say that “the reason ‘Rumours’ is so good is because they were all having a horrible time romantically, but somehow they made it into an amazing album, despite all their internal conflict.”

Over the years, “Anthems” has gained a following among Deshler’s friends and the community, though her grandmother remains one of the show’s biggest fans. Asked on who she recommends the show to, Deshler says “anyone who likes music, basically, a wide range of people would definitely enjoy it cause I have a wide range of music.” She went on to say that “it’s pretty accessible to anyone.”

As a side note, Deshler also highly recommends that other students become part of KWCW. “Everyone should either listen to or get involved in Kdub, because it’s an awesome part of the campus culture, and it’s a great way to get your creative side out.”

“Anthems and Airwaves” airs each Monday from 6-8 PM.

For those living on campus, it can be easy to think of KWCW as being “college radio,” run by Whitman students for other Whitman students. But shows like “Cosmic Dread Radio,” hosted by community member Gary Young, serve as a good reminder that there is more to the station–and its contributors–than meets the eye.

“Cosmic Dread Radio” is a music show that focuses on the music; as Young notes, “I mainly try and play music and talk as little as possible.” While Young doesn’t limit himself to a single genre, he primarily focuses on reggae and dub.

Young, a Walla Walla native, hosted his first shows on KWCW during the summer of 1981, while spending the school year at Western Washington University. At college, Young grew attached to the reggae genre, and all his shows since have reflected this interest accordingly. Over the past ten years, Young has been consistently running his show on a year-round basis.

With his music, Young attempts to push past the typical fare of both standard radio and college radio shows. “I like to play music no one’s heard before,” says Young. “So I do play a mixture of reggae and dub.” Describing the genre, Young notes that, “Dub can be kind of anything.” It mixes in elements of blues, reggae, funk and African music. “It’s just a wide variety,” he says.

Over the years, Young has noticed some confusion regarding the meaning of his show’s title. “Not a lot of people ask,” he says. “They might think of Cosmic Dread as something…fearful, or bad. I think of a dread as like someone who wears dreadlocks.” Similarly, “cosmic” refers to “space, [like] a spacey universe-type thing.” According to Young, “Dub music is kinda, sometimes spacey music, so…that’s pretty much where I came up with the name.”

So “Cosmic Dread Radio” is a reference to the primary genres explored in the show, as well as the nature of the songs themselves.

While some of KWCW’s radio hosts might cringe at the thought of revisiting their previous shows, Young finds it the best part of the entire experience. “I try and record most of my show[s] so I can listen to them.” In particular, Young enjoys listening to a show he recorded years earlier and finding that he played one of the same songs he aired again recently. “I don’t always remember what I’ve played but…it’s interesting.”

Photo by Alan Mendoza.

Additionally, Young simply enjoys the way the songs on his radio mixes flow together, and finds it valuable to preserve the specific mix of songs. “It’s kinda like making your own mixtape, I guess,” he said.

When asked about whom he would recommend his show to, Young responded that, “You kinda have to be open-minded, and willing to listen to something you’ve never heard before, and give it a chance…because it’s not for everyone.” Despite this, he suggests that skeptical viewers should offer it the benefit of the doubt, saying “I think it could be [for everyone] if you …are just open to new sounds.”

As a community DJ, Young’s experience with KWCW is rather different from student DJs. However, he regards the community DJ experience positively, saying, “I think the management realizes that community DJs are [an] important part of the station, just like the students, because community DJs are the ones that, especially in the summer…come in and do their shows regularly and really like to do [them].”

“I’m glad to have the chance to keep doing the show,” says Young.

This semester, “Cosmic Dread Radio” airs from 6:00-8:00p.m. on Tuesdays.

The documentary “Paper Tigers” focuses on a topic most people agree upon; would anyone explicitly suggest that it’s a bad thing for teens suffering from toxic stress to receive help instead of punishment?

The danger, then, with this kind of documentary filmmaking is not creating a product with disagreeable aims, but not probing them with enough depth or nuance to gain a solid appreciation for its subject. Fortunately, director James Redford’s film avoids this trap with skill and craft, using a wide variety of techniques to create a sharp and powerful product that expertly tells the story of Lincoln High School’s transition into trauma-sensitive teaching.

Over the course of the film, we are introduced to Lincoln students Steven, Dianna, Kelsey, Eternity, Aron and Gustavo, all of whom experience firsthand the difference the new policies make. Like their teachers, the audience is slowly exposed to the details of the students’ personal circumstances. The challenges the students face vary from individual to individual–some of the teams come from broken homes and encounter family illness, abuse, physical disabilities and custody battles. In turn, the film whittles away at the “delinquent” image the audience might have mistakenly perscribed to the Lincoln students at the film’s beginning.

Helping audiences to observe the students at a more personal level, the filmmakers provided the students with cameras to record their own experiences. The result is a look not only at the school, but also its reach into the larger world its students occupy. The focus of the school’s program, as a number of teachers suggest, is not simply to educate the students but to help them in their everyday lives and prepare them for a life outside of school.

The teens’ recordings are integrated into the professional footage to create a comprehensive narrative.

In addition to following the students, the film also looks closely at the staff as they work to adopt a new system, replacing the old, indiscriminately punitive measures with more beneficial systems. Principal Jim Sporleder, Medical Director Dr. Alison Kirby and science teacher Erik Gordon work closely with the students both in their academic endeavors and in the larger community.

While some students’ stories are featured more prominently than others, no story is neglected or forgotten. While interviews are prevalent, “Tigers” is not hamstrung by the documentary format and provides the experience of a full-feature film; even documentary novices would find “Paper Tigers” engaging. The film balances the right amount of tension with emotion. In addition to facing unique difficulties at home, the students are affected by the normal challenges of the teenage experience, from  poor self-confidence and relationships to family separations and the looming inevitability of college.

Ultimately, through a combination of compelling storytelling, powerful characters and uniquely engaging filming techniques, “Paper Tigers” proves a triumph for Mr. Redford, and, more importantly, probes into the inner workings of Lincoln High School, its administration, and its students. By the end, all audiences should walk away convinced of the trauma-centered teaching program’s merits. Recommended for any audience interested in Walla Walla, education, mental health or good filmmaking in general.