AudgePodge

"I fell into a burning ring of fire..."  The rough rhythm of Johnny Cash booms. My body whirls. Lunges. A heavy weight is shifted to the side, then back again. Screams surround me. It's hot here. My mouth dry from the spinning, from the permissible enjoyment of "Wipeout." Clusters of faces, blurred at the edges, like a wisp of indecipherable grins; teeth baring wide.  It's busy here, at the amusement park...though this is to be expected during the sunny season. Blue murmurs, rays of heat stab the hot metal my arm is lying on. I remember this place well; look back on it with fondness.  A place to which I came to visit most summers.  The monotony of "Pirates Cove," stepping through the pilled curtain into the inky atmosphere, inhaling faux ocean and its staleness of years.  Paper mache swashbucklers hold an intense, lingering gaze.  "Aye, ye mateys." Crunched, noise-polluted audio.  Expectation of the next room, full of smudged mirrors and ...

  It is 9:30 a.m. on a Friday in Corvallis, Oregon. Downtown bustles with lively crowds — mostly college students — who are here to explore, study, and socialize with the community. Conversations are held, coffee is sipped, and smiles are exchanged as these people walk around town. But lying on these streets, in between corners and alleyways, are the people who have been bested by society. They sit with their backpacks, signs and dogs — their entire life carried with them. These are the people who are ignored by the crowds walking by.  They have become nameless and faceless identities, just simply existing amongst us. Houseless, homeless, forgotten by themselves and society. But, there is a person out there who is advocating for them. Someone who is passionate about these humans, regardless of their circumstances. Someone who believes in protecting these people and supporting them. A champion. This person is Grace Robinson, a student at Linn-Benton Community College, who was f...

  Rites of passage: structured ceremonies or rituals that lead into a person’s adulthood.  We have all experienced something of the sort. Perhaps you felt the most “mature” when you plopped behind the wheel for the first time. Maybe when you first stepped onto a college campus, or into a new job. Or perhaps it was when you graduated high school, and legally became an adult.  Well, for me, nothing really clicked .  Yes, after finally getting my driver’s license after renewing my permit three times, I felt more adult. Yes, after graduating homeschool high school with a GED, I felt more adult. And, yes, with my knees buckled and my hands shaking, I felt most like an adult marching onto a college campus for the first time on Sept. 30, 2025.  But these accomplishments, these average rites of passage, could not compare to the day I learned to successfully tie my shoes, the right way.  The mantras I was told over and over: bunny loop. Around the bend, and then und...