Write Around The Corner // Beth Turnbull

In case you missed it, the presidential election is less than a month away--and Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump are not the only ones running to become the Leader of the Free World. This country has third parties, the most well-known are The Libertarian Party and The Green Party, and these parties do get some votes. People are voting for Libertarian nominee Gary Johnson, people are voting for Green Party nominee Jill Stein. And with what’s at stake in this election, that is dangerous. The next President will determine who takes the late Antonin Scalia’s seat on the Supreme Court. They will make decisions about the right’s of women, minorities, and the LGBT+ community. There’s a lot that could change after this election, not even taking Senate race into consideration. Just to be clear, I think that the current two-party system of our country is deeply flawed. There is no way that two polarized parties can wholly represent the ideals of an entire nation. Having third parties makes se

Kylie Jenner wearing cornrows and calling them box braids, white people wearing bindis at Coachella, Pat Boone performing “Ain’t That A Shame” originally by Fats Domino, these are examples of cultural appropriation. When the cultural majority, in our society, middle and upper class white people, adopt aspects of a traditionally minority culture, such as African Americans, and claim that these ideas are their ideas.  The difficult aspect with cultural appropriation is that there is not a clear boundary between paying homage to a culture and appropriating it. Many people make the claim that if a person grows up around a certain culture they are bound to adopt the traditions as their own, however this is not what cultural appropriation is. Cultural appropriation is the majority’s exploitation of the minority. And this affects everyone. When our society can still sell Native American Halloween costumes and describe them with phrases like, “whoop and holler in this rustic Native American

I let the watermelon juice drip down my lips and across my stomach, it’s sticky but I don’t mind. It’s summer, I’ll just wash it off in the pool. As the sun washes over me I close my eyes and focus all of my attention on stealing as much of its warmth as I possibly can before winter comes again. There is no breeze and the heat hangs heavy in the air, a bead of sweat falls from my temple. This is my paradise. I live for these sunlit-summer days. I reach for my book and read until I can’t bear the heat any longer. As I stand, my vision becomes blurry and black at the corners, the result of hours of sun and no water. A few sips later and I’m ready. I take off my sunglasses and leap into the water, it embraces me like an old friend. Gone is my sweat, gone is the watermelon’s sweet juice, gone is my blurry vision, and everything is incredibly clear. As my arms cut through the water I feel so free. My childhood instincts return, I am a mermaid, I am an Olympian. I duck under the surf

About a month ago I was walking through downtown Pittsburgh. It was a magnificent day. The sun was shining, there was a gentle breeze, and I was in a pretty good mood. I was walking from my dorm to Point State Park when I decided to stop at Dunkin Donuts and get a 99-cent iced tea (which actually comes out to $1.06 with tax by the way). I don’t like to carry change. It’s heavy, it rattles around, and I just prefer to use my debit card or paper money when I’m paying for things. (I am lucky I can be particular about how I use money, I acknowledge that.) So I left Dunkin with my tea in hand and my change in my pocket. I decided I would give my change to the first homeless person I saw. About a minute later I saw a middle-aged man with a paper cup outside of McDonald’s--a common sight--and I gave him my change. All 94 cents of it. I was proud of myself. I probably made that guy’s day, I thought to myself. My first instinct was to reach for my phone and tell my friends about the goo

It feels good to be writing here again, I had a lot of ambition when I started this blog in September. But then my first year of college happened. It was wonderful, and wonderfully busy. I had great opportunities to write for my college newspaper, and I was able to write for The Odyssey Online during the spring semester. These platforms allowed me to grow as a writer, but I was limited. I had to write for the Odyssey once a week, and after a while it became very difficult to write an inspired and meaningful piece. So I quit. I wanted to take some time to think and write on my own. What I want most is for my words to be carefully chosen and thought provoking. I don’t want to care how many times my pieces are shared on Facebook. Writing is very personal for me, I feel like I am having a conversation with each person who takes the time to read what I’ve said. I want to be proud of everything I share. This summer I am going to focus on making this blog the best it can be. I am going

Anyone who knows me knows that I love musical theatre. Many of my friends and family members have been forced to watch movie musicals, listen to cast recordings, and hear me spew useless facts about the performers. And although my obsession has mellowed out over time I still love theatre and I really enjoy(ed) performing. When I started taking voice lessons during my sophomore year of high school I wanted to be a belter like Idina Menzel or Patti LuPone. I had always sung as an alto in choir so I decided that I would never be a soprano like Julie Andrews or Kelli O'Hara. I would screlt (scream-belt) songs in my room when no one was home. I even recorded them and put them on the Internet. Bad idea. People online can be cruel. I already didn't think much of myself when it came to singing. The negative feedback made me feel even worse.  As time went by I worked hard to improve. I took every opportunity I could to perform. I auditioned for every solo in choir (I even go