Like many freshmen, I was incapacitated by the freshman flu. 

My first year on campus was marked by a symphony of coughing, hacking and wheezing. I had never struggled with significant health issues in the past, but the introduction of new germs must have caused a panic in my immune system.

I wasn’t alone in this fate, as many other unlucky freshmen could be heard stifling their sneezes across lecture halls. From COVID-19 and strep throat to anxiety and depression, it seemed as though no one escaped unscathed. 

As an incoming student, I was prepared for the incessant illness, as many upperclassmen had warned me about the “freshman flu” phenomenon. 

However, I had not foreseen how difficult it would be to receive treatment. 

Every fall, lampposts across campus flutter with fliers announcing the virtues of the University of Oregon Health Center. The Health Center, located conveniently on campus, boasts of a clinic, pharmacy and counseling center. The UO website states that the Health Center can be “your medical home away from home,” offering students “comprehensive primary care services, as well as acute care, sports medicine, psychiatry, gynecology and endocrinology.” 

All this can be yours through the UO Student Health Benefits Plan, which costs $3,516 a year. Students subscribed to an in-network non-university insurance plan can access the same services for the low cost of premiums, copays and deductibles, while those with out-of-network plans — often plans from states other than Oregon — must pay a steeper per-visit fee. 

I had been informed about all these attributes during freshman orientation, so when I first contracted the flu, I made a beeline to the UO Health Center. I was met with a disappointing surprise: the triage nurse was booked up for the next few weeks. 

I was redirected to the PeaceHealth Urgent Care, where I had to wait for five hours and pay $95 out of pocket for a consultation and prescription. 

The pattern persisted — each time I fell ill, I would be redirected to outside facilities for treatment, usually accompanied by a hefty fee. The school had sung praises of the UO Health Center’s high-quality facilities, but they were never accessible when I needed them the most. Appointments needed to be booked weeks in advance, an easy ask for scheduled check-ups but an impossible feat when faced with an unforeseen illness. 

Other students echoed similar experiences. 

“My issues in scheduling appointments have made me unable to get my medical conditions checked, requiring me to make unnecessary visits to the emergency room,” Henry Petito, a UO sophomore, said. 

As a student on the medical track, Petito notes this as a cause for concern: “It causes a delay in the emergency room staff’s ability to help patients truly experiencing emergencies, as well as forcing me to waste my time and money.”

“In my freshman year, I got an exceptionally bad case of eczema out of nowhere, and after six weeks of trying, I finally got an appointment at the health center,” Larissa Vandehey, a UO senior, said. “They told me it was the soap or detergent that I’d been using for more than two years at that point and basically said I was fine.”

“I didn’t find the school insurance that useful,” Tetianna Smith Drysdale, a UO junior, said. “The one time I did go to the UO Health Center for something, the nurses couldn’t draw my blood correctly — they were so bad that my arms were cramped for the rest of the day.”

To understand more on how the Health Center operates and works with student’s needs, The Daily Emerald requested an interview with the UO Health Center three times, but at the time of publishing this article did not hear back from the Health Center. The Emerald also reached out to UO Spokesperson Eric Howald twice before the publishing of this article, but has yet to hear back from Howald for any response to student’s statements in this article.

The UO Health Center is the perfect resource for students whose medical needs end at the occasional sports injury, STD screening or flu shot. 

However, for students with more complex or chronic issues, the Health Center often serves as a mere concierge, pointing them towards more costly services that the university is too busy or undersupplied to provide. 

The services covered by the university concentrate on preserving the functionality of the student body rather than truly ensuring its health. The state-of-the-art sports medicine center keeps its athletes churning out revenue. The STD-screening and readily-available contraceptives soothe community concerns about sexual safety and keep students from dropping out due to the challenges of an unplanned pregnancy. The free flu and COVID-19 shots prevent the spread of contagious diseases, keeping lecture halls full and student workers clocked in. 

These are all crucial services — but for many, they are not enough.   

Students with hidden or non-contagious ailments often find the UO Health Plan entirely insufficient for their needs. These unseen issues don’t impact the university’s profits or enrollment rates, and as such, they often fall beyond the scope of university-provided services. 

Many students report issues getting prescriptions for their chronic conditions filled at the UO pharmacy. “My prescribed medication has been on a three month backorder,” Petito said. “I’ve received minimal communication from the school, with no expected time when it will arrive. The lack of medication has led to nearly constant nausea and unnecessary pain.”

Mental health is another invisible illness that appears to be considered a lower priority by UO Health Services. 

UO junior Emma Deutschmann reported being put on the waitlist for 12 months to receive psychiatric services, while sophomore Torsten Madsen waited for five months. In a campus where 41% and 47% of students reported struggling with depression and anxiety respectively, mental healthcare should be easily accessible, but short-staffing and high demand makes counseling a luxury. 

Of course, there are only so many services that the university can provide. The budget is limited, and the rarer the condition, the less likely that UO Health Services will be equipped to treat it. 

Nor can these shortcomings be blamed on the UO Health Services staff, who work hard to provide quality care with the resources they’re given. 

“The system is screwed up as is, and the small building can’t keep up with the large student body that continues to grow,” Petito said. “I believe the problem is due to the university’s failure to properly budget and fund what needs to be supported, and the recent federal attack on health and education hasn’t helped.”

Currently, UO Health Services are funded by the Student Administrative Health Fee, a fee built into the cost of tuition. Despite being subsidized by the students, this fund does not serve as student health insurance.  

UO Health Services’ inability to meet the needs of a growing student population is problematic, but it is a long-term problem — one that will require brainstorming and extra funding to remedy, a task made more daunting by the school’s current dire financial straits. 

The more urgent issue lies in the marketing of the UO Health Plan. 

Currently, the plan is pitched to incoming freshmen as a one-stop shop for all their healthcare needs. Readily-available resources, such as the UO web page or the fall term campus advertisements, do nothing to acknowledge the plan’s limitations. 

“The way that they advertised it was a little pushy, and I only got it because I thought it was required,” Smith Drysdale said. “I feel like they could’ve made it clear that there were other options. It’s clear that they really want money more than anything else.”

College freshmen, the plan’s target demographic, are often inexperienced at navigating the healthcare system independently. For many of them, college is the first time they have had to manage their own insurance. They deserve to be warned of the possible out-of-pocket costs they will be required to incur before signing on to a $3,516 annual commitment. 

The UO Health Center is a valuable resource, but it is not yet the fully-fledged clinic its advertising materials purport it to be. In future years, I hope that UO will provide its incoming students with the facts necessary to make an informed decision about their healthcare coverage. 

In the meantime, I urge students considering the UO Health Plan to research its coverage and consult with their peers about their experiences with UO Health Services. The university has a financial incentive to sell you its insurance plan whether it is functional or not — it is up to you to make the right decision for your personal healthcare needs, whatever they may be.

The post Brewer Knight: The shortcomings of the UO Health Center  appeared first on Daily Emerald.

The ASUO Street Faire is a springtime staple at the University of Oregon. Each fall and spring term, students can stroll down East 13th Avenue to enjoy the wares of food trucks, artisans and resellers. 

This spring, however, East 13th Avenue remained empty. On May 6, ASUO President Mariam Hassan and UO Vice President for Student Life Angela Chong emailed the student body announcing the ASUO Street Faire was cancelled due to safety concerns from the ongoing UO Student Workers strike. 

This decision resulted in an outcry among many students who were excited to picnic in the sun with their friends with some takeout or snag a Mother’s Day gift from one of the artisans’ stands. 

However, it was the vendors who truly bore the brunt of this hasty decision, having been informed of the closure less than two days before the Faire was set to begin. 

I met with Julian Melton, a UO senior and owner of Volume 11 Vintage, to discuss how the cancellation affected him. 

“This would’ve been my sixth year as a vendor in the ASUO Street Faire — it supported me entirely through college,” Melton said. “I recognize that it’s a huge privilege not having to clock into a 9-to-5 job, but it’s still hard going without the Street Faire. It provides 90% of the yearly income I need to pay rent and put food on the table.”

The disenfranchised vendors received a fee refund, but Melton noted that the $250 he received back didn’t cover the costs of mandatory vendors’ insurance or the thousands of dollars he had spent on inventory. 

Some vendors had even come from other states for the event and were left to swallow the cost of their travel expenses. 

Matters were even worse for food vendors, whose product was perishable and could not be salvaged and resold at a later date. 

“Because our crepe cart only does events, the Street Faire is about 20% of our annual revenue,” Brent Hefley, the owner of Happy Go Lucky Crepes, said. “So this impacted our cart as a business, but it also impacted the three 16 through 20-year-olds who work the cart. They’re saving money for school or travel, and the cancellation of the Street Faire was a hit for them.”

Clearly, the cancellation came with a high cost for all involved, but was it warranted? 

Indeed, the administration claimed that the strike posed safety concerns that would render the Faire hazardous. In one email, UO administrators claimed that UOSW picketers’ “disruption” of a “Conversation on Democracy’s Future” event on May 1 created “a threat to health and safety by exceeding fire marshal occupancy limits, blocking exits and intimidating participants.” 

On May 5, the university called the UO Police Department and Eugene Police, clad in full riot gear and batons, to disperse the striking student workers who were occupying Johnson Hall. UO spokesperson Angela Seydel said that this action was necessary “to ensure the safety of those inside and to secure university facilities.”

Despite these justifications, UOSW members and vendors alike have expressed doubts over the actual risk posed by the strikers, especially in light of last year’s similarly unorthodox circumstances.   

“The encampment for Palestine was on campus last year, and we hosted the Street Faire through that,” Melton said. “I spoke to various other vendors and, whether they agreed with the viewpoints of the protestors or not, they never felt unsafe. They never said that anything was stolen or that their business was harmed — many even had record sales that week.”

Melton’s sentiments were echoed by some UOSW members: “It’s very interesting that the Street Faire was cancelled this year during our strike and not last year during the encampment,” Robin Bailey, a sophomore student worker who participated in the UOSW strike, said. 

Bailey offered his hypothesis on why the administration might have had an incentive to label the strike as unsafe: “Our strike demonstrated our power, and that must have terrified UO,” he said. “We were able to crowd out rooms and shut down events, and we did so because our university shouldn’t continue business as usual when it has refused to engage in good faith with its workers for nearly a year.”

Bailey’s words reveal a common theory that emerged across my interviews: the administration was using the ASUO Street Faire cancellation as a PR move meant to diminish the popularity of the strike among students. 

“This is purely speculation, but I think ASUO’s hands were forced by the university,” Melton said. “The encampment didn’t cost the university money every day, but the strike did, and they had a motive to get these students back to work. I feel like I was used as a political pawn.” 

If passing blame onto the union was a tactical move by the university, it appears to be working. Many students outside the fray of union organization, student government or small business operation have never before had cause to formulate a strong opinion on the UOSW. Now, thanks to the deliberate connection between one of their first exposures to the union is tied to the cancellation of a beloved campus event. 

“During the last few days of the strike, I overheard students talking about how they fully supported the strike until the union was responsible for canceling the Faire,” Caleb Camejo, a UO senior, said. “I find it very upsetting that a university who claims to care about students would actively attempt to turn non-union students against those in the union.”

There is no way to know the university’s true motives, but the fact remains that the Street Faire cancellation harmed vendors, strikers and students alike. Personally, I believe the cancellation was unnecessary given the success of the Street Faire last year under arguably more tumultuous conditions.  

“Cutting the Street Faire hurt UO, but settling a contract with student workers was always on the table,” Bailey said. “The administration and its student government chose hurting relationships with their students, faculty, staff, vendors and community over listening to student workers and responding to their needs.” 

The strike has since ended, but the financial strain on vendors persists. I encourage students to seek out other community events, such as the UO Flea Market or the Founded Fest, to support their favorite local vendors before school’s out for summer. 

Furthermore, I implore students to second-guess UO administrators’ explanations for the cancellation instead of taking them at face value. 

As President John Karl Scholz has recently announced in a school-wide email, UO is currently facing financial challenges due to declined out-of-state enrollment, a restrictive state budget and sweeping federal funding cuts under President Trump’s administration. 

As an institution looking out for its bottom line, UO has every incentive to oppose striking workers who seek fairer compensation — and by extension, more money — from the university. 

Is it unfair, then, to suspect that administrators might attempt to paint a striking union in a negative light to achieve this goal, even if it means scapegoating them for the loss of an anxiously-awaited and easily salvageable event? 

Regardless of our personal opinions on the union or the ASUO Street Faire cancellation, I hope we can all show kindness to our fellow students in spite of our disappointment. 

In any situation of hardship, the important thing is solidarity — with fellow students, union members, vendors, and everyone else in the UO community. We are all simply striving for a good education and a livable wage. We need unity, not hostility, no matter how university headlines might subtly divide us. 

The post Brewer Knight: Why was the ASUO Street Faire really canceled?  appeared first on Daily Emerald.

On April 28, student workers’ picket line chants reverberated across campus. The traffic in dining halls slowed to a trickle, and some establishments shut their doors due to a lack of workers. 

These are the effects of the University of Oregon Student Worker strike, in which unionized student workers have ceased their labor until the administration meets their demands. 

As a student who works outside the university, I am not a member of the UOSW, but I stood in full support of their mission for fair pay and better working conditions. 

However, in my discussions with student workers, I realized that many did not participate in the strike. 

Some, such as UO sophomore and Science Store employee Zadie Niedergang, refrained due to ideological opposition. 

“I agree with the strike in many ways, but I’m not striking because of personal disagreements with the union,” Niedergang said. “I looked through the union’s list of demands, and I disagree with some things that they weren’t willing to budge on, such as asking for more political expression rights at work.” 

Others were prevented from striking due to unseen barriers, especially Resident Assistants, who risk basic needs by being on the picket lines.

UO Housing is charging striking RAs the standard rate for their dorms, which they currently receive as compensation for their services. This is deemed a form of retaliation by UOSW. 

Additionally, the strike fund won’t cover the cost of dorms and meal plans.

“I can’t afford the cost of my room and meal plan, and I don’t have a place to stay if I vacate, so I decided not to strike,” Ella Kuhn, a UOSW member and RA, said. “My building’s union rep said the union will cover the costs, but I haven’t seen any official claims of this despite asking several times.” 

This restriction is especially harmful because RAs are one of the groups who most desperately need an improved contract. The 2026-27 change to the RA role will split the position into Community Builders and On-Call RAs, with only 50-75% of housing costs covered. This change would be devastating for many RAs, who only work such a high-demand job for the fully-covered food and housing. 

Student workers in UO research labs also frequently crossed the picket line, but for a very different reason. 

I met with one undergraduate researcher, who asked to remain unidentified due to fear of retaliation from professors and employers, to learn why they continued working. 

“Our professors are unwilling to support us if we strike, so lots of students who would otherwise support the strike are forced to keep working,” the student researcher said.

Most chillingly, however, many international student workers won’t strike for fear of retaliation — or deportation — by the federal government. 

This student said that while they had participated in protests in the past, they became concerned for their safety after witnessing international students such as Mahmoud Khalil get detained by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement for protesting or organizing.

“I totally support my friends who are striking, but as an international student, I’m a minority here,” one international student worker, who wished to remain anonymous for fear of retaliation, said. “If the worst case scenario happened, I’d get deported, couldn’t graduate as planned and I might not be able to immigrate here in the future. Every decision I make, I have to think twice.”

To quote the famous labor chant, “the people united will never be defeated.” But what happens when UO administration and the federal government foster division between RAs and hourly workers, citizens and international students? What happens when striking could cost someone their housing, their graduation or their residency? 

A threat to any student worker on campus is a threat to all, as it weakens their collective bargaining power. As students, we must advocate for our peers’ causes as our own and strive for unity in an atmosphere that seeks to divide us. 

The post Brewer Knight: Our Friends Across the Picket Line appeared first on Daily Emerald.

Like many students, I woke up the first morning of spring term unsure of whether or not I would have class that day, or even that week. When I checked my phone, my email had been flooded with notifications: the strike was off.

On May 30, the University of Oregon administration and the United Academics union, which represents UO faculty members, reached a tentative contract agreement. This agreement concluded 14 tense months of bargaining, proposals and counter-proposals. 

The conclusion arrived in a nick of time — the union was poised to strike just 14 hours later, an act which would have delayed the beginning of spring term. 

Students and faculty alike have expressed relief that the new contract has allowed campus life to continue as usual. 

“Frankly, I’m a little relieved that the strike is not going to proceed, because strikes are always risky,” Molly Hatay, a career instructor of English and an active member of the UA, said. “They’re calculated moves that unions can use to try and achieve their goals, but even in legally protected strikes, people can become very nervous.” 

“I was very relieved that the strike didn’t happen, because I was worried that it would impact students’ learning,” Ella Kuhn, a sophomore at UO, said. 

I felt a similar sense of reassurance, as I worried that delaying classes would complicate my jam-packed graduation plan. 

The recently ratified Collective Bargaining Agreement represents significant progress for the faculty, particularly in the non-financial elements of the contract. 

“The pay has slightly improved. It’s not as big as the union was hoping for, but it is an improvement,” Hatay said. 

The main improvement she cited, however, was not related to pay, but instead a matter of respect. “There are also some smaller wins in the contract, things like naming conventions,” said Hatay. 

Hatay explained, “There are all different tiers of teachers at UO. Some, like pro-tem or career instructors, teach classes and have fantastic credentials, but they don’t make fantastic salaries. One win that is surprisingly meaningful to me is that there are changes to naming conventions that mean people will be able to call themselves ‘teaching professors’ instead of things like ‘career faculty.’”

Such a simple switch can bring tangible benefits. “While this doesn’t necessarily change their job description, this does make their work legible to other institutions, so when they do things like apply for grants, the labor that they’re doing for UO is valued as the work of a professor, something they’ve spent years to achieve,” Hatay said. 

While the administration more readily agreed to these non-economic changes on May 29, the issue of pay proved a major hurdle. The new contract promises a 4.5% pay raise across the board during the first year, starkly lower than the UA’s desired 8.5% increase. During the second and third years, faculty will receive different pay raises based on their role.

These scheduled pay increases are not only a win for instructors, but also for students. To echo many professors’ refrain, their teaching conditions are our learning conditions — by raising instructors’ salaries, the institution enables them to pour their undivided focus into our education instead of splitting it between part-time jobs.

However, there is still more progress to be made. The current contract lasts until June 30, 2027, but this does not mean that UA will lie dormant until the next bargaining cycle begins. 

Currently, UA is engaging in other important work around campus, such as hosting caucuses. According to the UA website, upcoming caucuses will provide spaces for groups such as international faculty, faculty of color and LGBTQ+ faculty to discuss workplace issues and build solidarity. Providing a venue to discuss these concerns is especially important under the current administration, where slashes to higher education funding, international visas, and DEI leave many faculty and students vulnerable.

But if UA only exists to advocate for faculty interests, why should students care? 

The answer is simple: because solidarity is invaluable. On April 28, the UO Student Workers Union filed an intent to strike. The galvanizing issue is pay — while UOSW representatives demand a minimum wage of $21 for student workers, the administration has refused to budge from a minimum of $15.15. 

The UA has demonstrated support for the UOSW as they prepare for their strike, as evidenced by posts on their Instagram. For the many student workers at the University of Oregon who currently feel disenfranchised by their low pay, finding allies among the faculty and communicating across unions can make their ranks stronger. 

I suggest that all students, especially student workers, stay tuned in to UA updates. In a time where division is growing nationwide and both universities and state institutions face drastic changes, solidarity and unity are more important than ever. 

The post Brewer Knight: The contract was ratified, but interest in instructor equity should remain appeared first on Daily Emerald.

Students at the University of Oregon come from various different hometowns, hold a wide array of beliefs and study vastly different subjects, but there is one thing that unites us all: everybody has at least one complaint about the way our school is run. 

Critiquing our social surroundings is natural — even the proudest Ducks can think of some element of their college experience that they would like to modify. 

Whether you feel that student workers are underpaid, you want more money to be allotted to your favorite club or you simply wish you could see the syllabus of a course before enrolling, we each have a suggestion on how to improve the school we know and love. 

Oftentimes, these complaints fall on deaf ears. Students don’t always have accessible forums to share their opinions, and various student movements have resulted in little to no concrete change, such as the push for wheelchair accessibility in older dorms or for more eco-friendly thermal systems in campus buildings. In many cases, the path to equity is long and complex, and solutions can arrive frustratingly slowly. 

However, students may have more power than they realize. Namely, they have the ability to participate in the Associated Students of the University of Oregon elections each spring term. 

ASUO is a student government organization that performs many crucial roles regarding school policy, peer advising and student advocacy here on campus. 

Notably, they are tasked with managing the Incidental Fee, a fee paid by all students as part of their tuition. ASUO representatives are responsible for allocating the $1.5 million of projected I-Fee money to support the UO’s clubs, affinity groups and free services like Duck Rides, ASUO Legal Services, student bus passes, the ASUO Street Faire and the Basic Needs Program. 

ASUO elections were conducted both electronically and in person from April 7-11, and all students were eligible to vote on their picks for president, vice president and student senate.  

Voting might be a five-minute inconvenience, but it is a worthwhile one — these roles directly impact students’ quality of life. ASUO representatives are in charge of budgeting the money that we all contribute, and how they choose to spend it will determine what privileges we can access.

Last year, 2,572 people voted in the ASUO elections, or 11% of the student body. This year, the number has slightly declined, as only 2,492, or 10%, of students voted. 

As the school grows and student involvement takes a prominent place on our campus, as evidenced by last year’s pro-Palestine encampments and this year’s union organization, one might expect the level of ASUO involvement to significantly increase — so why hasn’t it? 

“I’ve never voted in an ASUO election before because I’ve never been informed about the significance of the student government or told about its candidates,” said Sofía Guzmán, a junior who is not involved in any student clubs. 

Rain Roark, a sophomore, voted for the first time this year. They attributed their decision to the publicity that the election received through UO clubs: “I was compelled to vote because I kept hearing my friends in club leadership talk about how ASUO felt like a huge roadblock to their clubs’ funding.” 

 I believe that the election’s low turnout is due in part to the fact that the ASUO’s importance is mostly promoted through clubs, overlooking the large portion of the student body who are not members of any student organization.

Students who are not highly involved in clubs might not realize that the ASUO’s decisions impact them too — however, it is ASUO programs that give them access to free food, bus passes, childcare, and more. 

If you have ever benefited from an ASUO-funded service, it is in your best interest to vote on candidates who you trust to continue funding and advocating for that service. In future elections, I encourage all students to vote, whether involved in club life or not — the UO is our school, and we all should have a say in its leadership. 

The post Brewer Knight: ASUO elections impact more than just club funding  appeared first on Daily Emerald.

“When Mexico sends its people, they’re not sending their best… They’re bringing drugs. They’re bringing crime. They’re rapists.” These words, uttered by presidential candidate Donald Trump, galvanized the nation in 2015. 

Trump won his first presidential election on a campaign of fear, and this fear was a prominent motivating factor for many of his voters. According to Pew Research Center surveys from 2016, 79% of Trump voters identified immigration as a very important issue in their voting decision. 

This wall, so often referenced in slogans and chants, was Trump’s selling point: a glimmering beacon of exclusion that promised to preserve the sanctity of a white, English-speaking nation. 

Trump justified his xenophobia by focusing on the alleged criminality of Mexican and Central American immigrants — these were “bad hombres,” and their immorality disqualified them for entry through the golden door. 

In his 2024 campaign, Trump doubled down on this rationale, this time shifting his focus to Caribbean immigrants. During the presidential debate, he reiterated the unconfirmed claim that Haitian immigrants were eating cats and dogs in Springfield, Ohio. But never fear — concerned voters could protect their pets and their neighborhoods by voting him into office, allowing Project 2025’s deportation sweeps to restore law and order to their communities. 

And vote they did. Trump rose to power once more with 49.8% of the popular vote. He immediately implemented Project 2025, a political initiative devised by a conservative think-tank that aims to restructure the federal government to support authoritarian right-wing policies. One initiative came as a particular shock: the Gold Card visa. 

Proposed as a way to reduce the United States’ national debt, the Gold Card allows wealthy foreigners to effectively purchase permanent U.S. residency for $5 million each. 

This program is intended to replace the EB-5 immigrant investor visa program. EB-5, established by Congress in 1990, allowed foreigners to obtain a Green Card by investing in a U.S. enterprise and promising to create and maintain at least 10 full-time jobs for U.S. workers, bringing wealth to underprivileged regions.

The Gold Card program entirely abandons this community-focused prerogative, reducing the wealthy foreigners’ obligation from a long-term commitment to a simple one-time fee. 

Furthermore, this program contradicts Trump’s supposed preoccupation with moral purity. During his campaigns, Trump claimed that his immigration policy would protect Americans from rapists, drug dealers and criminals. 

However, some of the most infamous criminals of our era could have easily afforded this fee, speeding down the path to citizenship while asylum-seekers languish in limbo. Sinaloa Cartel co-founder Ismael “El Mayo” Zambada possessed roughly $3 billion at the time of his arrest in July 2024. Alleged serial rapist and Egyptian luxury mogul Mohamed Al-Fayed had $2 billion at the time of his death, while convicted rapist and British entrepreneur Lawrence Jones was a multimillionaire at the time of his arrest. 

Additionally, the Gold Card could open the doors for Russian oligarchs with whom Trump has personal ties. This list includes figures such as Dmitry Rybolovlev, whose offshore wealth concealment was cited in the Panama Papers, or Roman Abramovich, an investor guilty of bribery, loan fraud and over-pollution. 

The Gold Card confirms that Trump never truly cared about protecting Americans from crime — after all, he is a white collar criminal and sexual abuser protecting his own. Instead, Trump’s immigration policy is motivated by racism and a deep disdain for the poor and needy, those who could most benefit from American residency. 

America has long prided itself on being a bastion of democracy, refuge and freedom, but Trump’s Gold Card is a threat to core virtues, treating residency as a commodity to be sold instead of a right to be upheld. The damage done by this policy should serve as a warning for future voters — greed and corruption cannot make America great. 

The post Brewer Knight: Citizenship premium appeared first on Daily Emerald.

Anyone who has ventured onto the University of Oregon campus has undoubtedly noticed one name adorning various buildings: Knight.

From the Matthew Knight Arena to the Knight Campus, the specter of Nike co-founder and multi-billionaire Phil Knight looms large over the school, thanks to his donations totaling over $1 billion — but how much power do donors like him really wield over the university? 

UO receives less state funding per student than any other Oregon public university, receiving only $5,647 per fundable student compared to Oregon State University’s $11,580. As a result, the school relies more heavily on student tuition and “gift money” — otherwise known as private donations.

From 2010-2021, the university raked in $3.2 billion worth of donations from 147,081 donors, only 70 of whom donated over $5 million. This small group of large-sum donors decides what to fund and, as an extent, what to value, shaping the UO’s budget for academics, athletics and infrastructure.  

 Notably, donors can choose where their gift money goes. 

While they can’t control precise expenditures or the output created from their gift, UO donors can designate their donation to a specific program or area of study. 

As a result, the university’s priorities rely increasingly on the whims of donors. It can be difficult to find funding for the issues that don’t attract philanthropists’ interest, such as building upkeep or worker’s wages.

“Passively, through more negligence than malice, faculty have fallen multiple rungs down the school’s list of priorities,” Mike Urbancic, a senior instructor II of economics and the president of the United Academics union, said. 

Currently, Urbancic is leading unionized UO faculty in negotiations with the administration for fairer pay, an issue rarely addressed by donors.

 “Maintaining things just isn’t as flashy as building something new and shiny,” Urbancic said. “It doesn’t burnish the resume of the upper administrators, who want something impressive to highlight to donors — it’s difficult to convince donors that what we really need is to maintain existing operations.” 

The need to justify improvements to donors leads to increasing privatization, as more money is funneled into lucrative or flashy endeavors that reflect the donor’s personal interests. 

This systemic neglect of mundane maintenance is visible in instances like the delayed demolition of dorms containing asbestos or the closure of the useful but unprofitable American English Institute. 

This privatization also impacts instructors, and, as a result, the curricula of students’ classes. “Everything boils down to fees,” Jon Jaramillo, a career instructor of Spanish, said.

“Our department pays the university to use classrooms for special events, and then there’s facility and parking fees. There are so many little things that are designed to suck money out of people,” Jaramillo said. “We also have some administrators managing this educational institution who come directly from the corporate world. They are used to focusing on the bottom line, so they apply those same techniques of operating a business to the university, which stifles innovation and creativity.”

Of course, the donor system has its benefits. As a lifelong Oregon resident, I acknowledge that donations from rich and powerful philanthropists have given me access to a higher caliber of education than I would otherwise receive — however, if my interests don’t align with the subjects that donors deem fit to fund, I will struggle to pursue my passions as budget cuts may decimate my discipline’s programs, faculty and opportunities. 

Some students have already felt limited by their majors’ lack of funding. “The history department has been chronically underfunded in the UO,” David Reynaud, a sophomore history major, said. “McKenzie Hall is in dire need of repairs compared to many of its better funded counterparts. Its outdated design, poor maintenance, and limited classroom size has proven detrimental to my and other students’ learning.” 

This issue of privatization is more pressing now than ever, as private interests increasingly intertwine with the function of public institutions. President Trump has assembled the richest administration in American history, appointing 13 billionaires to positions of power in his cabinet. We live in an era where magnates control our government — do we want them controlling our universities as well? 

The post Brewer Knight: Money Talks. Should The University Listen? appeared first on Daily Emerald.

When I met with Mike Urbancic, a senior instructor II of economics and president of United Academics, he illustrated the University of Oregon faculty’s plight with a metaphor.

“We’ve got that lovely collection of world flags around Hayward Field. They were gorgeous when they were put up, but over time they’ve fallen into miserable disrepair. They’re tattered, torn and snagging on trees — it’s a powerful visual. The university is really proud whenever we create shiny new things, but when it comes to maintaining them, it’s just not a priority — they’re left to be weathered, bedraggled and fall apart,” he said.

UO’s faculty endure a similar state of neglect as they bargain for their new agreement. UO’s United Academics (UA), a union representing 1,728 faculty members, has been bargaining with the administration since Dec. 5 for contract improvements such as more sick leave, fairer workloads and a salary raise. 

Campus has rippled with discussion over what this strike would entail for students — no classes, no research and a total academic blackout — but what would it mean for instructors? What do they stand to gain? What are their reasons for such drastic action?

Currently, UO faculty have the lowest salaries out of any Big 10 university. While in-state tuition has risen 37% since 2014 in inflation-adjusted dollars, faculty salaries have declined by 5%. 

This deprivation, however, doesn’t stem from financial hardship — UO’s general budget has grown by 5.7%, and the six highest-paid administrators rake in a combined yearly total of $3,037,800. 

This injustice spurred the UA to submit a proposal requesting an across-the-board 8.5% raise for all faculty in 2025. The administration countered with 4%. If the administration refuses to budge, faculty say they will strike in spring term.

“My personal reason for being involved in the union is that right now, we’re facing a complete societal transformation with the incoming presidential administration,” Jon Jaramillo, a UA-affiliated Spanish career instructor, said. “Truth is not as important, and our work (as scholars) has been devalued. We’re seeing a shift toward running the university like a corporation — it’s destroying students’ creativity. If we don’t do everything possible right now with this contract, when will be the next opportunity for us to adjust our pay?”

While federal changes may threaten the future of public universities, Urbancic notes a promising change on the state level. Due to increases in Oregon’s budget forecast under new state economist Carl Riccadonna, there will likely be $1.3 billion more of tax money available by 2027 for public uses such as paying state university faculty. 

In other words, the scarcity long used to justify underpaying instructors has vanished. 

“There can be more investment in higher education and K12 and housing and healthcare because the pie is simply bigger,” Urbancic said. “We’re done with this idea that we’re squabbling over a fixed budget. We’ve had years of underinvestment in higher education relative to other states; now is the time to do something about it.”

Instructors form the foundation of our university, and their current wages are not only unacceptable but unwarranted. Labor activism is having a renaissance on campus, as evidenced by graduate educators’ and classified staff’s successful fight for better compensation and the prospective student worker strike, and faculty should not be forgotten in this push for equity.

“I think students should hear both sides out — listen to what both the administration and the union have to say, look at the data and decide for themselves who to support,” Jaramillo said. 

“We hope that students will be supportive and understanding of our struggle…because really what we’re struggling for is to secure the conditions to continue providing our students with an excellent education. We’re struggling to create the conditions for us to be successful in helping them to be successful.” 

The post Brewer Knight: Why The Faculty Strike Matters  appeared first on Daily Emerald.

For the past sixty years, abortion has been a hotly debated topic in the United States — but in light of the 2024 election, it is one of the most crucial domestic issues for our country to address. 

Due to its controversial and sensitive nature, discussions of abortion access have often been brushed aside or silenced in the name of politeness. However, as the death toll rises higher and millions of women lose their autonomy, this pattern cannot persist. 

On the personal level, the choice of whether or not to seek an abortion should be determined by the individual’s own circumstances, medical needs, and personal beliefs. On the national level, abortion is a right that should not be denied to all due to the objections of particular religious and political groups. 

Following the overturn of Roe v. Wade in 2022, abortion has been portrayed as a states’ rights issue. “Whatever [the states] decide must be the law of the land,” stated president-elect Donald Trump on his privately-owned platform Truth Social — “In this case, the law of the state.” Conservative arguments have cited the United States’ cultural diversity as a justification for state-by-state legislature: what works for California may not work for Mississippi, they argue.

The loss of this federal constitutional protection enables individual states to decide the legality of abortion for themselves, a decision with grave consequences: fourteen states have almost fully banned abortion, while four states remain in flux. These bans have caused unthinkable tragedies, such as a 12-year-old rape victim forced to give birth to her rapist’s baby and a woman forced to carry a stillborn baby to term. 

In the mere two years since the overturn, maternal fatalities in states with abortion bans are 62% higher than in states where abortion access is protected, a disparity which is bisecting our country. 

States’ rights are currently prioritized over human rights, and the red-and-blue maps that dominate the news document two very different realities for women in America — but this is not the first time that the issue of states’ rights has caused such division. 

Since the Constitutional Convention of 1787, American politics have been split into warring factions of Federalists and anti-Federalists. These names are rarely mentioned in the 21st century and the attached political parties are now obsolete. Nevertheless, this dichotomy persists as politicians divide themselves into opposing camps: those who want important laws to be decided by a central authority and those who want states to have the independence to decide for themselves. 

The Civil War, which sought to eradicate the human rights-abomination of American slavery, provided an important contribution to this discussion — namely, it confronted the question, “do human rights end at state lines?” The conclusion was a resounding “no,”, affirming that slavery was unconstitutional and could not be tolerated by the U.S. government simply because a state voted to legalize it. 

Abortion access and slavery are vastly different topics which should not be equated or compared. However, the Civil War provides important precedent that should be considered today as Americans discuss “States’ rights issues” such as abortion, prison labor, gun control, and the death penalty. 

Human rights shouldn’t be compromised at state lines. If the government considers something a “fundamental right,” as abortion was deemed under Roe v. Wade, that right should not be provided or revoked at the whims of a state.

 One moment in the Roe v. Wade trial poignantly encapsulated this idea: when Texas Assistant Attorney General Jay Floyd remarked that a pregnant woman seeking an abortion has already made her choice, SCOTUS Justice Potter Stewart exclaimed, “Maybe she makes a choice when she decides to live in Texas!” 

As this sarcastic comment expressed, it is ludicrous for women in red states to have fewer rights than women in blue states, despite belonging to the same nation. The U.S. is a union of states, not a collection of separate powers, and we must act as such — especially when human autonomy is on the line. 

In elementary school, my favorite time of the day was art class. Each week, my classmates and I would be corralled into two snaking lines and shepherded down the hallways, our sneakers squeaking on the linoleum as we filed into the art classroom. 

Passing through that hallowed door was like entering fairyland. Smudgy charcoal sketches papered the walls from floor to ceiling. Knickknacks lined every shelf: vases full of plastic flowers, artist mannequins mid-arabesque, cakes of muddy watercolors. Even the chairs were painted into the fantastical forms of dragons, castles or allusions to Andy Warhol’s pop-art. 

For many students, the art classroom was a safe haven. Even those of us who didn’t particularly enjoy sculpting pinch-pots could appreciate the refuge it offered — art was a break from the math, reading and writing that occupied the rest of our day. It allowed us to unwind and think creatively. 

Studies show that art is beneficial for elementary school students, both improving the school environment and giving students more confidence, but what about college students?

For those of us venturing into adulthood, avenues of creative expression are just as crucial as ever.    

College is stressful, and navigating adult responsibilities even moreso. In the everyday frenzy of school and work, it is easy to become overwhelmed, anxious or detached from the things which once brought us joy. 

Unsurprisingly, I was thrilled to learn that UO has a Craft Center open to all students in the EMU. My tour guide let us peer through the window at the impressive array of gadgets and announced that the center was free for students to use — all you had to do was pay for materials and the studio was your oyster.

Bolstered by this knowledge, I waltzed into the center during week one only to be politely turned away. If I wanted to use a studio, the receptionist informed me, I had to sign up for an orientation. She offered me a clipboard, but I balked at the long list of names and sheepishly declined. 

My preconceptions had been sorely mistaken — The Craft Center might technically be open to all, but this doesn’t mean it’s simple to access. 

In order to access most studios within the Craft Center, students with prior experience must complete multiple-session orientations to learn Center-specific guidelines. Total novices must enroll in workshops to learn how to use the materials. 

Such precautions are reasonable considering the professional equipment within (which ranges from blowtorches to table saws), but they do severely limit the amount of students able to utilize the highly-demanded Craft Center services — limited orientation and workshop spots open at the beginning of each term, inciting an inevitable mad dash as students race to secure a spot. 

 “Getting into the Craft Center was really bizarre. On tours they made it sound like anyone could just pop in and do a little ceramics, but when I became a student I found out that there was an entire process that they never mentioned,” said Rain Roark, a sophomore. 

They continued, “For me, getting in is always a process of figuring out when they are gonna open up the slots in the first place, mark it on my calendar, make sure that I have the time to reserve my spot, because they fill up in 5 minutes max.” 

“Since the studio is so small, it can max out and they won’t let more people in. Plus, they have classes that reserve the studio for a couple of hours at a time, so it can be confusing to figure out when they are even open. Basically, they need a remodel or expansion.” 

Some of the most unique opportunities, such as the glassblowing or ceramics studios, are inaccessible without completing specialized workshops. Unfortunately, these workshops can cost up to $280, making them cost-prohibitive for many interested students. 

Despite these obstacles, students flock to the Crafts Center because it is often their only resource for arts on-campus — many art classes are restricted for majors and minors only, leaving clubs and workshops as their only recourse.

With consistently growing freshman classes and record revenues, the University of Oregon would benefit from expanding its Craft Center services. With the help of larger facilities and increased funding to reduce the out-of-pocket cost of workshops, this haven of on-campus arts could allow more students to indulge their artistic streaks.

 Art is a valuable and often-overlooked facet of campus life — and with the Craft Center, UO has the chance to prioritize it.