With more than 135 million viewers watching the Super Bowl Halftime Show LX, Benito Antonio Martínez Ocasio, also known as Bad Bunny, became the most watched half time show in history. The use of symbolism weaved throughout his performance rebranded America in the light of what it should look like: a celebration of cultures. In his 14 minutes of screen time, Bad Bunny set in motion a sense of unity within our country and even Fayetteville. 

“His message inspired others by showcasing how powerful love and kindness is in times of oppression, hatred and violence,” University of Arkansas student Adahy Espinoza said. “It united people and gave a voice to those who are in fear.”

Freshman U of A student Olivia Savage agrees that his message of community being bigger than anything else was an important topic to represent with his time on the stage. 

“I think it really showed people that no matter where you’re from you are still part of a community and you still have people around you,” Savage said. “Community spans bigger than what you think and you can always find love and support no matter where you go.”

The overall message that love prevails was encouraging to see according to U of A student Tony Interiano.

“His message was extremely inspiring, especially to me and my community,” Interiano said. “It’s very difficult to not be blinded by hate with the things that are going on in the world.”

While currently living in a society where hatred seems normalized, Espinoza feels his message was a good reminder that community is not something you find, it’s something in your heart that you are born with.

 “It is no one’s place to take that [community] away from you,” Espinoza said. “Let alone hate you for it.”

Despite the controversy of Bad Bunny performing as the half time show entertainment, viewers thought he did a great job at sticking to his original style and not switching gears based on his environment. 

“I liked how he stuck to himself and stuck to his guns,” Savage said. “He didn’t crumple under the pressure of people to change his performance and change his roots and who he is as an artist.” 

Espinoza hadn’t followed up on social media about the discrimination Bad Bunny was receiving before his performance, but she knew he would not care and would stick to what he knows despite the hate. Interiano also mentioned that is not who he is. He doubts Bad Bunny cares about what everyone else is saying.

Even though his lyrics are in Spanish, his message still came across smoothly to the audience members unable to understand his lyrics. Through his use of choreography, inclusivity and even set design, Bad Bunny found a creative way to get his point across to everyone watching. Ending his show by naming off all the countries represented in the United States along with their flags was a piece that stuck out to sophomore U of A student Willow Broach. 

“I thought it was cool whenever he was calling out all the different countries,” Broach said. “We have a very large Hispanic community here, so I’m sure it was nice to see representation.”

After his performance, people used social media platforms to convene about all the parts people noticed and loved the most. According to Broach, she was inspired by the videos people posted of them screaming with pride when he called out their country’s name on television. 

Espinoza agrees that the show was great in this way and also loved how he imitated parts of everyday life to help bring attention to Hispanic culture.

“My favorite parts were the little discrete highlights of Hispanic culture that would pop through,” Espinoza said. “Like the little kid that was sleeping on the chair being a reference to something most Latino kids experienced growing up at family functions.”

Finishing his show with more than a dozen flags held high into the air, Bad Bunny presented a message that broadcasted across the stadium and onto live television stating, “The only thing more powerful than hate is love.” This moved both Savage and Interiano. 

“This showed people of a different race that they do belong in America, they are important here and they are a part of our culture and environment,” Savage said. “Even though you’re different, America really is about being different from everyone else, bringing it all together and meeting people in the middle.”

A message that seems simple yet is extraordinary to hear in a world where hatred is normalized and publicized, Bad Bunny’s message has inspired people who continue to advocate for a country united through cultures, languages, and people. 

“Love is the only thing that can beat hate,” Broach said. “America thrives on diversity.”

The post Bad Bunny Half Time Show Performance Evokes American Pride appeared first on Hill Magazine.

At a predominantly white institution (PWI), finding a sense of belonging might not be instant for all students. For many Black students at the University of Arkansas,community can be found through spaces like the Multicultural Center and historically Black Greek organizations.

AnReckez Daniels, associate director of the Multicultural Center, said the center’s mission is rooted in creating an environment where students can feel supported and seen.

“We try to be a safe space, a safe hub, a safe haven,” Daniels said. “We try to be a shoulder to cry on, a face to laugh with. We just want to be those people where students feel as if they belong here.”

The Multicultural Center supports student organizations by helping with funding, planning events and connecting students with campus resources. Daniels described his team as experts and explained that when they don’t have an answer for a student, they will guide them to someone who does. Beyond just logistical support, Daniels said the center plays an important role especially at a PWI.

“If students come from communities where most of the people look like them, and then they get here and it’s not like that, they need somewhere to retreat to,” Daniels said. “Somewhere that feels familiar, like a home away from home.”

One of the center’s recent initiatives, “Mirror,”a Black History month photo gallery, had the goal of providingvisibility. What was originally just an idea to capture professional portraits of students transformed into a larger display celebrating Black students on campus.

“I wanted students to have that one picture,” Daniels said. “When they’re older and they pull out a photo from college, I want them to say, ‘This is when I was at the University of Arkansas. This is when I took up space there.’”

For L Jones, a freshman double majoring in political science and communications with a minor in African American studies, the Multicultural Center became a space of belonging early in his first year. 

Jones said he first learned about the MC through a friend who would often spend time there. He said he was curious and decided to visit. 

“I didn’t even know what it was at first,” Jones said. “But when I walked in, it was just people hanging out, studying and talking. It felt like unity.”

Jones said he actually participated in the “Mirror” photo shoot. He said he did not expect a full professional setup with lighting and a backdrop.

“It was a great experience,” Jones said. “Everyone was welcoming and warm. It just felt good to be in that space.”

Seeing the finished gallery left an impact on him, especially due to exposing him to other Black students.

“I didn’t think there were this many of us here,” Jones said. “Sometimes you don’t see everybody all at once. Seeing all those pictures together was powerful.”

Jones said at first college felt very overwhelming, both academically and socially. Having a space where he felt understood helped make the transition easier.

“When I’m stressed, I can go there and just hang out,” Jones said. “It’s like being around family. It’s  a place where I can do my work and talk to people who understand me.”

He added that the center has supported him academically as well by providing peer support and encouragement. He said they have made a difference in his life.

For Antwanette Wilchie, a junior biology major on the pre-dental track, community can be found through leadership and sisterhood. Wilchie serves as president of the Phi Theta chapter of Zeta Phi Beta Sorority, Inc., a historically Black sorority founded in 1920 on the principles of scholarship, service, sisterhood and fine womanhood.

“It’s an honor,” Wilchie said. “I feel like I have big shoes to fill. I get to represent our history and continue the principles we were founded on.”

Zeta Phi Beta is one of the organizations under the National Pan-Hellenic Council (NPHC), more commonly known as the Divine Nine. Wilchie explained that her chapter is committed to being a community conscious, action oriented organization.

This year, alongside other NPHC organizations, members helped contribute more than 62,000 hygiene items for local women’s shelters. The chapter also volunteers with local organizations in Fayetteville and participates in campus initiatives such as Pack the Pantry.

However, Wilchie said the importance of her sorority goes beyond just service.

“At a PWI, you might not always be in spaces where people look like you or share your experiences,” Wilchie said. “So having places like our sorority, the Multicultural Center or Unity House, those spaces are important.”

Unity House serves as a meeting place for NPHC organizations, housing offices and event spaces. Wilchie described it as a central location where members can host programs and build connections.

Wilchie said Divine Nine organizations also play a larger role in strengthening the Black campus community. While centered around Greek life, many events are open to all students.

“It’s important that we reach out to people who aren’t Greek,” Wilchie said. “There are Black students in other organizations who care about community service and connection. We need more unity on campus.”

Serving as president has also shaped her personal growth. 

“It’s pushed me outside of my comfort zone,” Wilchie said. “Public speaking, leadership and connecting with new people have helped me grow as a student and as a leader.”

Daniels said that while student needs may evolve over time, the importance of belonging will remain constant. 

“The need will always be there,” Daniels said. “This space is a PWI, and it always will be. But what we can do is create spaces where students feel supported.”

In a university where representation can often feel limited, community, whether it’s found at the MC, Unity House, a sorority meeting or a campus  event, makes a lasting difference. For students looking for connection, spaces like the MC and Unity House, as well as RSOs like the Black Student Association, offer a place that ensures Black students do not have to navigate college alone. 

The post Finding community at the University of Arkansas: How Black student spaces create belonging at a predominantly white institution appeared first on Hill Magazine.

Razorback fans unite at the palace in inclement weather.

When January arrived, a familiar panic made its way to Fayetteville. Suddenly, grocery store shelves were empty, rumors spread of days and days of canceled classes, and social media feeds were flooded with talk of “the snowstorm you’ll tell your kids about” heading straight towards Fayetteville. 

On Thursday, students got calls from family members pleading with them to make arrangements and stay safe, and at 5:07 p.m. The University of Arkansas sent out the much anticipated WxAlert text alert cancelling classes for Friday. Students checked the weather app on Friday night to find that a projected 12-14” of snow would be falling overnight, and woke up Saturday morning to see it was true. 

On Saturday Jan. 24, the snow fell hard, the temperature was subzero, and every store and business was shut down as predicted. Roads were coated in a wintry mix of ice, sleet and snow, and you may think that any plans of a basketball game that day were tossed out the window–but you would be wrong.

At 8:00 a.m., before there was even time to shovel snow off the driveway, @Razorbackmbb on X, formerly Twitter, posted that the Razorback game against LSU at the Bud Walton Arena wasis still on, and had been moved from 7:30 p.m. to 4 p.m. in an attempt to beat the worst of the conditions;

“Snow day essentials: 

– Boots 

– Hot chocolate 

– Hog basketball”.

When roads are impassable, conditions are lethal, and the governor even declares a state of emergency, the hogs still call. 

“Come on out, the crowds will surprise you”, Matt Zimmerman, Razorback Sports Network analyst and former assistant basketball coach said in a pre-game report on Instagram. “There will be a lot of students here”. 

That evening, students in everything from a full ski-suit to a mere hoodie and sweatpants made the trek to Bud Walton, tickets in hand. 

“My mom was like ‘are you seriously going to a basketball game right now?’” said Hailee, a University of Arkansas freshman. “I was like yeah mom, it’s okay, literally everyone I know is”.

“Generally for an SEC game we’ll get about 4,000 students, but we’ll have more than that”, Zimmerman predicted in his post earlier that day. Sure enough, 4,500 Students rolled their eyes at the weather reports and showed up for their team, and the Arena was at its capacity of 19,200 by the time 4 p.m. rolled around. 

The majority of students didn’t think twice about their decision to make the journey to the game. Hailee recalled that the U of A story on Snapchat was everyone joking about sledding to the game or risking frostbite to be there.

“None of my friends even brought up the idea of not going”, She said.

The circumstances brought students together and fostered camaraderie among them. An anonymous student on the U of A Yik Yak page said that they have never felt closer to the student body than during this snowstorm in a post with over 200 upvotes. 

There’s something unique in a Razorback fan that sees negative temperatures, countless warnings, and over a foot of snow, sleet, and ice as a challenge instead of a sign to stay in bed. As wild as the hogs can seem to an outsider, those within their circle are not surprised by this. 

“Working in the Bud Walton arena, I had no doubt that it was going to be packed”, Avri Kamplain, communications assistant for Razorback woman’s basketball said. “A situation like this brings a different kind of excitement to our community, we all get to come together even if it’s difficult to get there.” 

This “different kind of excitement” filled the arena that evening, from a crowd connected by shared experience of the trek and brought together in the warmth of the Palace. With 9:45 left in the game, Arkansas overtook LSU and, accompanied by the rallies of frenzied fans, achieved the victory with 85-81. 

The adrenaline of a crowd who had just braved the emergency warnings and thrown caution to the wind to show up inevitably brings a unique energy and atmosphere. When asked if the crowd vibe has influence on the court and outcome of the game, Kamlain says definitely, and added that players feel recognized by their fans when the energy is high. 

“I work many press conferences and notice players saying they were confident playing because of how loud the Bud Walton arena got”. 

The confidence of the athletic staff in their fans says a lot about the grit of the Razorback and the no-excuses mindset of the students at the U of A. A sold-out arena is more-or-less guaranteed, regardless of the situation. Grit and loyalty is expected from fans, and that’s what sets the fanbase apart from others. When it comes down to choosing comfort or loyalty, the hogs choose loyalty every time. 

The post Woooo Pig Snowie  appeared first on Hill Magazine.

Over seven inches of snow touched down over University of Arkansas campus on Jan.23, shutting down campus until the 28th. Students did not take the break for granted, but instead layered up and braved the cold. All around were multi-colored coats, patterned scarves,and stylish hats contrasting against the white blanket of snow. Freshman Kerby Smith prepped her closet with her new winter attire before the harsh weather set in.

“I brought back a long, navy North Face coat from home, and a striped Balaclava hat from Gap,” Smith said. “I also got a few coats from Free People Movement that I really love.”

Styles varied all around campus, but a few common brands that made an appearance were Free People, Old Navy, Anthropologie and Patagonia. According to Sophomore UA student Maggie Jayroe, these brands have great winter staples.

“I am an Anthropologie and Free People fanatic,” Jayroe said. “Free People has really unique, colorful puffer coats and riding boots that I love.”

Ready to put their newly purchased clothes to use in the snow, both Smith and Jayroe packed their closets tightly over winter break, switching out their cool clothes over to warm clothes. However, while Smith aimed to be more functional in the winter weather, Jayroe took the fashionable path. 

“The first day when we went sledding, I was definitely trying to be more functional, I wore a lot of layers,” Smith said.

While Jayroe’s goal was still to remain warm, she felt like her mindset as she got dressed was to look cute too. She wore fleece lined tights under her colorful skirts, thrifted sweaters topped it all off with a long coat from Nuuly. According to her, she leaned more toward fashion instead of function but believes you can make any warm clothing item cute with accessories. 

Davis McClure, another U of A student,  also believes warmth and style can both be attainable while dressing for winter weather. This year, he found a puffy jacket from Cheap Thrills on the Square to pair with his thick layers and beanies. 

“When sledding, I layered at least three in everything,” McClure said. “I might look like a marshmallow but I’m warm.”

Junior UA student Dossett Hall agrees that winter attire can be both trendy and comfortable.

“I wore wool socks, Patagonia snow boarding pants and a Melanzana sweatshirt which was fashionable and functional,” Hall said. 

News channels, campus information resources, and parents made sure students were going to be stocked up and warm during the predicted 20 inches of snow. With Walmart shelves being emptied out of food and sleds, people’s fridges and homes were filled with an assortment of preparation tactics. 

“I went to Walmart probably three times before the snow storm and bought a salami platter, muffins in a cup where you just add water, and prepacked snacks,” Smith said. 

Going in the same direction, McClure went to his parents house to raid their pantries and gather his gear. Hall, however, lives off campus and knew his options were slim without dining halls nearby. 

“I cooked all of my meals during break, so living off campus, away from the dining halls wasn’t an issue,” Hall said. “I bought lots of chicken and rice, and 24 cans of Arnold Palmer.”

Snow began to fall during the weekend, so as Monday rolled around students awaited class to be cancelled due to dangerous road conditions. By 2:30 Sunday, RazAlert sent out a message campus wide cancelling in-person classes. According to Jayroe they communicated well during the beginning, but it slowly got worse as the week went on. 

“At the beginning it was good, earlier is always better,” Jayroe said. “But then Wednesday afternoon they didn’t let us know until way later every day that we were going to have school.”

In Outlook, once the RazAlerts cancelling class were sent out, the University sent multiple emails reminding students of the dangers of icy roads and sidewalks. Along with the safety tips, were multiple links to places like the National Weather Service for frequent updates, Drive Arkansas for road conditions, and American Red Cross – Winter Storm Safety link in case of emergencies. 

 McClure took a step further and found another source through the University to receive updates about the school’s closure. 

“I was in the weather update GroupMe and Amanda Hux did her best to inform us students of closure as soon as she was out of the meetings,” McClure said. “So I heard an hour or so before the rest of the university did.”

While classes were cancelled on campus, some online classes continued with their lectures through Zooms, slideshows or virtual assignments. Students like Hall and Smith both had work that needed to be completed, but said it wasn’t too difficult to do over the break. McClure however said he tried to complete most of the work beforehand so he could enjoy his snow days while they lasted.

“I spent most of my snow days sledding down Dickson, drinking a bunch of tea, and reading a new book I just got,” McClure said.

The post Students Prepare Closets and Pantries For Winter Storm appeared first on Hill Magazine.

Students assembled outside their high schools holding handmade signs and chanting in unison protesting Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) activity in Northwest Arkansas. The demonstration was organized by high school students and reflected growing fear among immigrant families in the Springdale community and a sense of urgency students said they could no longer ignore.

Though the protest was started by high schoolers, its message went beyond Springdale campuses, drawing attention from University of Arkansas students and members of the community who said immigration policies continue to shape their lives.

Springdale high school sophomore Daisy Martinez said she helped organize the protest to stand up for her family and others affected by immigration enforcement. Martinez, who is from Mexico, said ICE activity has caused significant emotional harm within the community.

“They’re separating our families,” Martinez said. “They don’t know what they’re doing to us mentally. They’re just hurting our families.”

Martinez said the goal of the protest was to challenge narratives that dehumanize immigrants and to remind lawmakers and adults that students are paying attention. She said that young people deserve to be taken seriously, regardless of age.

“Even though I’m young, I want to be taken serious,” Martinez said. “We’re all the same. We’re all human beings.”

Springdale High School senior Sophie McClelland, who was partially involved in the organization process of the protest, described the demonstration as a response to what she has as an increasingly concerning issue. She said immigration enforcement has become more evident  in her community, making it impossible for her to remain silent.

McClelland said her mother is a legal immigrant from Russia but many of her friends have undocumented parents. She said ICE activity has created a constant state of fear among students, especially those worried about their families being torn apart. 

“It just makes everybody scared,” McClelland said. “We’re all on edge.”

McClelland explained that immigration policies show up in her daily life through the experiences of her friends, some of whom live with anxiety that their parents could be detained or deported at any time. While McClelland said that while she cannot fully resonate to the fear, she still feels compelled to support those who live with it every day. 

McClelland acknowledged that students do not have the same power as adults but participation itself matters. She described attending the protests as the least she could do to demonstrate solidarity. 

“I can’t do as much as an adult might be able to,” she said, “but I’m going to do as much as I can.”

Other students framed the protests as part of a broader fight for civil rights. Har-Ber High School senior Adriana, who asked that only her first name be used, said she attended because she believes immigration enforcement represents a bigger injustice that affects not just immigrants, but everyone. 

“When the rights of Latinos are infringed upon, everybody’s rights are infringed upon,” Adriana said.

She described the protest as an effort to help not only immigrant communities but American rights more broadly. Adriana said she hopes the demonstration will draw attention from city and state leaders and lead to meaningful change.

“We want ICE immediately out,” she said. “We want ICE abolished.”

Adriana said she believes protests can lead to change, especially when media coverage brings student voices into the eye of the public. 

“You’re here, and that’s news,” she said. “News is what causes change.”

While the protests attendees were mostly high school students, UA freshman Betsy Lopez said the issue affects college students as well. Lopez, a marketing major, attended the protest in support of family members and friends who were too afraid to attend themselves.

Lopez is a Springdale High School alumni and she said returning felt meaningful both symbolically and personally. She said seeing younger students organize a protest over an issue that was important to them gave her hope. 

“I wanted to be there on behalf of friends and family that are scared to go and attend,” Lopez said. 

Lopez said immigration policies continue to affect her family directly. She said that a family member has already been deported and that nearly half of her family is undocumented.

“It does affect us,” Lopez said. “It just feels like there’s nothing we can really do.”

Lopez explained that ICE activity has changed how a lot of families navigate everyday life. She described relatives who are too scared to drive or even leave their homes, having to rely on others for transportation out of fear of being stopped or detained.

“I have a family member that’s scared to drive,” she said. “So we take turns taking her wherever she needs to be.”

Although Lopez said she hopes protests like this can lead to change, she said she feels uncertain whether policymakers will respond. 

For U of A students, Lopez’s presence demonstrates how immigration policies does not stop affecting individuals after high school. Many college students continue to balance their academic lives while worrying for family members back home.

The Springdale protests reflect a new trend of youth-led activism in Northwest Arkansas, where students are using public demonstrations more and more to respond to policies affecting their communities. Participants said their goal was not to disturb, but to be visible to the community.

As chants echoed, students repeated messages they hoped would go far beyond Springdale. They want to be seen as human beings and they want their voices, regardless of their age, to matter.

The post ‘We Are Human Beings’: Springdale students lead ICE Protest, joined by UofA Supporters appeared first on Hill Magazine.

The 2026 Winter Olympics began Feb. 6 in Italy, spanning from Milan to Cortina. The mountains of the northern region of the country will be the backdrop for the biggest Olympic Games ever: the highest number of athletes, sports, events  and highest anticipated number of viewers and attendees than ever before. 

College students have a special perspective on the games, as many of the competitors on the American team are their age or younger. This year, there are 18 athletes on the team that are between the ages of 18 and 22, providing college students at the University of Arkansas an even bigger reason to cheer on Team USA.

Freshman student Autumn Boyd said the overwhelming feeling of American pride attracts her to the events every two years. Other than the Olympics, she says she only feels this surge of emotion when it is the Fourth of July. 

“I love the togetherness, the feeling like the country is united for something, because we’re so divided all the time,” she said.

Feeling pride in the United States is certainly easy when the medal count stays consistently on the rise throughout the course of the games. Snowboarding two-time Olympic gold medalist Chloe Kim is one of the returning athletes to look out for in the coming weeks. 

“The United States is always one of the best [teams] if not the best,” Boyd said. “It’s the same feeling I get when we’re in Bud Walton, and we just want to win.”

The power of competition on a global stage has the strength to unite entire nations, or at least ease their tensions. Amid heightened political tension under President Donald Trump’s administration enforcing immigrant detainment and control, now is as perfect of a time as ever to be on one team. 

Following the fatal shootings by US Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents of an ICU nurse Alex Pretti, and mother Renee Good, both Minneapolis residents, anti-ICE protests have sprung up across the country. Just before the start of the Olympics, Mayor of Milan Giuseppe Sala was informed of ICE agents accompanying the US team overseas. According to CBS News, Sala said that the agents should not come to Italy, as they do not guarantee they’re aligned with Italy’s democratic security methods.

Needless to say, the elite status of the USA team to deliver success stories and bring home a plethora of medals provides the athletes a unique chance at social change. Olympic athletes have made numerous political statements in the past, especially through their victory celebrations. This year, athletes are taking a stand even before the games have started, speaking out at press conferences and on social media.

At a postgame interview, Minnesota Frost hockey player Kelly Panek, member of the 2026 Olympic team, commented on her view of the social power she wields as an athlete.

“I think people have been asking us what it’s like to represent our state and country. I think what I’m most proud to represent is the tens of thousands of people who show up on some of the coldest days of the year to stand and fight for what they believe in,” said Panek.

With ICE raids continuing in Minneapolis and beginning in other regions of the country, thousands more have started speaking out and protesting in their local communities.

“I think [being an Olympic athlete] is a good opportunity for people to speak up for what they believe in, and to speak up for what they think is right and wrong. Especially with the situation [in the U.S.] today, there’s a lot of strong opinions going around- I think not speaking up says a lot about a person,” said freshman Engineering student Ruby Templeton. 

Seeing Olympic athletes, especially the young ones, model traits like courage and determination on a global platform where millions of people will watch them perform is inspiring to their peers, including some at the U of A. 

Boyd said that seeing 20-year old figure skater Alysa Liu return to figure skating, and now the 2026 Olympics after retiring at 16 is especially motivating and eye-opening to her; that so much can change in just four short years, and that one’s career is not always linear.

“The fact that someone our age would be able to do something for so long, feel burnt out, and come back to doing it…that’s inspiring to me,” she said. 

Students at the U of A and around the globe have access to new ways of spectating the events as well as looks inside footage of the Olympic Village via short-form content posted on social media platforms like Instagram and TikTok. 

Another student, Danielle Hammig, said that athlete-influencers changed her perspective on the 2024 Paris Olympics, specifically USA women’s rugby player Ilona Maher and USA women’s tennis player Coco Gauff. Hammig said without Maher’s content, she would not have been aware that rugby was a sport in the Summer Olympics, meaning other women and girls worldwide were introduced to it as well. At the same Olympics, now 21-year-old Gauff posted content about her experience at the events, often following viral trends or making humorous videos.

“I feel like Coco Gauff is pretty well-versed in the Tik Tok and social media world, and she makes watching tennis a lot more interesting,” Hammig said. 

Most of all, athletes at the Olympics represent what it is like to be a contributor to a team, a united front of people from a vast variety of backgrounds and opinions, all with the same individual goals for themselves—something that viewers all over the world can absorb and incorporate into their own lives. 

“Sports are a really beautiful thing, because you can meet your best friends through things like your teams and your teammates. And I feel like it’s just really cool that [Olympic athletes] get to represent their sport, their thing that they love so much in honor of their country,” said Hammig. 

In such a time of political discourse and action toward nationwide social change, it can be difficult to remember what it feels like to be a proud American. This February, the athletes competing on the global stage to realize their dreams have a chance to remind fans back home what unity and compassion can feel like, and how powerful they can be.

The post More Than Medals: How Young Olympians Connect with College-Age Fans appeared first on Hill Magazine.

Irvin Camacho speaks about AIRE at a monthly meeting for the Washington County Democrats on Feb. 17, 2025. Photo by Johana Vasquez

Decades ago, Irvin Camacho lost his father to deportation. Today, he’s co-founded an alliance of immigrants in Northwest Arkansas to combat Trump’s pledge of mass deportations nationwide.

One evening in mid-February, Irvin Camacho looked intently around the room, raising his shoulders and an arm to the crowd sitting in black foldable chairs at the Washington County Democrats headquarters in Springdale.

“I’m not sure what your social media looks like, but my algorithm, every time I wake up and check Facebook, there’s a new ICE sighting in Northwest Arkansas, whether it be in Rogers or Springdale. It’s like not good news to wake up to every day, right?”
His remarks were met with some heads shaking in disapproval and a few disgruntled noises. Camacho, 33, was one of several speakers at the Democrats’ monthly meeting to discuss immigration issues.

Camacho explained to the majority white audience the concept of an “ICE watch,” a term used do describe the monitoring of U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement officers when they are spotted in local communities.

“We have a group of folks that actually go to the location where the ICE activity is reported, and we verify if that’s true or not,” he said. Once verified, members of the alliance spread the word on social media to community members to avoid the area.

A few weeks earlier, Camacho witnessed ICE agents going to people’s homes on Adrian Avenue in Springdale. Camacho said he went and saw the officers himself. He said AIRE informed people on social media once the officers left because some people were at work in the area and didn’t want to leave until it was clear.

ICE raids in 2010 pulled Camacho into the advocacy world out of concern for his undocumented friends and others in the community. But it was more personal than that. In 2008, he’d lost his own father, a U.S. resident, to a deportation. He never saw him again.
Camacho’s appearance at the Washington County Democrats meeting comes after he and his partner responded to Donald Trump’s re-election and the formation of a new grassroots defense movement for immigrants called AIRE [i-reh], the Alliance for Immigrant Respect and Education.

“Your immigrant neighbors are scared right now,” he said.

Trump ran on a campaign to crack down on immigration and enforce mass deportations nationwide. Within his first week back, Trump’s administration revoked a decade-long policy that limited immigration arrests at churches, schools, and hospitals. He expanded the use of “expedited removal,” which gives enforcement agencies broad authority to deport people without requiring them to appear before an immigration judge. ICE officials have been directed by Trump to ramp up arrests from a few hundred a day to at least 1,200 to 1,500.

This has set off alarms among immigrant advocacy groups and non-profits across the country as they face heightened challenges to protect immigrant communities. And Trump’s actions are energizing a new generation of activists to work with seasoned activists and organizers to advocate for people’s rights. Camacho was born in Salinas, California nestled along the Salinas Valley, an agricultural hub historically home to various immigrant populations and farm workers. Chinese labor workers settled in Salinas from 1870-80s, leasing 1,000 acres of valley land for agriculture. In 1898, over two hundred Japanese workers came to Salinas to succeed the Chinese in working in the sugar beat fields and introduced crops like celery, broccoli, and strawberries to the land. A vocal Filipino community superseded the Japanese in the early 20th century and organized as one of California’s first farm labor unions in 1934.

Mexican immigrants were interwoven into the community as fieldhands during the First World War and re-introduced in 1942 under the Bracero program, importing and permitting millions of Mexican men to work legally in the United States on short-term labor contracts. Camacho’s grandfather Demetrio came to benefit from this program, allowing him to eventually become a U.S. resident before the program ended in the ‘60s. As the United Farm Workers movement, led by Cesar Chavez and Dolores Huerta, moved from Delano and into the Salinas Valley, his grandfather became a member. Camacho has a photo of the identification card his grandfather signed in 1978 to have the union represent him.

Irvin’s grandfather, Demetrio Camacho, is pictured in the ID card on top. His uncle’s ID card is on the bottom.

Camacho’s parents were born in Mexico and grew up together in Chupicauro, Guanajuato. His dad, named Demetrio after his father, moved to the U.S. first in the early ‘80s and became a resident through his dad. He started working as a farmworker at 15, mainly in the lettuce fields. He eventually dropped out of high school and began drinking at a young age, peer-pressured by the older men he worked with.

He was also a construction worker before he fell off a roof and needed screws in an arm and his legs.

“He was always in pain,” Camacho said.

Camacho’s mother joined his father in the U.S. in the mid-’80s. She toiled in the onion fields and had an opportunity for legalization through Reagan’s complicated Amnesty law in 1986.

A community organizer, by Camacho’s definition, is someone who is grassroots on the ground talking to people, addressing community needs, and connecting people to resources they may not have access to.

Camacho has contributed to multiple grassroots efforts over the past 15 years, starting some of the more recent ones. His latest effort is co-founding AIRE, which aims to build a supportive community in the region for immigrants through education, advocacy, and language justice.

The last group he started, Equipo de Defensa al Imigrante, or Equipo for short, disbanded in 2018 after a three-year run. Camacho said the group put in equal effort and didn’t label himself as the leader.

He continued to do advocacy work, working for a national non-profit called the Bail Project in Benton and Washington counties until late 2022. In 2019, he started Arkansas’ first bilingual podcast at KUAF, the District 3 Podcast, at the local public radio station.

But circumstances beyond his control always pull him back to organizing. A month or two before the November election, Camacho worried when he heard about deportations targeting the Marshallese community in Springdale. He lamented not having an active group to help inform them of their constitutional rights.

Citizens and non-citizens alike are not required to interact with ICE agents and allow them into their homes without a warrant signed by a judge.

The Marshallese are lawfully present here under a Compact of Free Association between both nations, free to permanently move to the U.S. with only a passport. But their status isn’t entirely secure.

Consulate General Anjanette Anjel said she tells the Marshallese who come to the consulate office in Springdale that if there is a warrant for their arrest or they’ve done something wrong, officers might come to their home to detain them. ICE detained 21 local Marshallese men in January, according to the Marshallese Consulate.

Anjel said she has noticed increased anxiety about deportations among the Marshallese community and an uptick in the number of people coming to the office, applying for passports, and updating documents.

After Trump’s election, Camacho said he felt more pressure to start an immigrant advocacy group. Once Camacho’s partner agreed, he began posting on Instagram seeking immigrants and children of immigrants who would be interested in starting a group. He arranged a meeting for those interested at the end of December where they established their goals.

When Camacho was roughly four years old, his family moved to Gonzalez, a town 20 minutes from Salinas. He lived in a two-room apartment with his parents and older sister under the city’s Housing Authority on 9th Street. Before he knew what it meant, Camacho grew up thinking the apartments were named Housing Authority.

His parents received unemployment during the off-season when they worked in the fields, but it wasn’t enough. Camacho said they could barely make ends meet, so during the off-season, his dad worked as a semi-truck driver, which he enjoyed. To still collect unemployment, his dad worked under a different name and social security number.

Social security fraud using fake identification was easier then, at least until 2001 when the Social Security Administration made stricter changes. With few opportunities in the area and an uptick in local gang violence, his parents decided to move to Arkansas in the early 2000s.

“We packed everything in my dad’s black Camaro and moved across the country to my uncle’s house in Lowell,” Camacho said.

He recalls going with his parents to Tyson’s application center and waiting with his sister as their parents applied for jobs. Camacho said his dad’s role in the poultry industry was short-lived due to his pains. His dad returned to what he knew and loved, driving a semi-truck.

AIRE is made up of roughly 80 members and has four committees.

The Public Education and Workshop Committee strives to inform the general public about their rights when interacting with ICE officers and speaks to the media about AIRE. The Halting Anti-Immigrant Legislation (HAIL) members monitor bills at the state level that propose anti-immigrant policies and speak with legislators. In an ICE watch committee, members verify ICE activity in the local communities and bring flyers about constitutional rights to people’s door steps. The Language Justice Committee works to disseminate information about constitutional rights in multiple languages.

Know Your Rights fliers and information at an AIRE public event on Feb. 28. Photo taken by Johana Vazquez.

Camacho, is currently works with a developing coalition of non-profits and organizes full-time. Aside from his work, he balances AIRE work and the podcast. He said the biggest need AIRE is addressing in the community is spreading Know Your Rights information to as many different people, businesses, and churches.

“The best way to fight getting detained by ICE is knowing what they need to legally detain you.”

Zita (who wanted to use an alias for the interview) is the co-chair of the Language Justice Committee. When AIRE was in the early stages of its formation, Zita pitched this as a committee to ensure information was reaching communities that spoke languages apart from English and Spanish.

She said Spanish-speaking communities were not the only ones at risk of deportation.

The committee has translated Know Your Rights fliers into Marshallese and Korean and is working on Hindu and Arabic translations among others. They try to find members in the region that can help translate and spread this information.

Zita said the inclusion of different languages allows people to have autonomy and dignity.

She witnessed her mother try to navigate spaces in the U.S. in her second and third languages— Spanish and English.

Her mother’s first language was Kaqchikel, an indigenous Mayan language. She was born at the cusp of Guatemala’s brutal civil war, spanning 36 years from 1960 to 1996. The Guatemalan government committed a mass genocide against the indigenous population with military aid from the United States, Israel and Argentina. Zita’s mother witnessed her brother get kidnapped by militia.

“Community was in her blood,” Zita said. “They had to take care of each other when nobody else would.”

In 1995, Zita immigrated to the U.S. with her mother when she was four. Her stepdad, a Fayetteville native, was traveling through Guatemala when he met her mom and they fell in love and married. Zita said her mother had to build a community here. Despite language and cultural differences, she became active in organizing spaces, advocating for queer people and immigrants’ rights.

“She always told me, we’re fortunate enough to be documented, so we have to show up for our community.”

Zita said contributing to advocacy groups like AIRE helps keep her mother’s memory alive and carry her legacy.

The last time Camacho saw his dad alive was one early morning in 2008. He was sleeping in the living room when the noise of his dad getting ready to leave woke him up. He raised himself a little in the dark room and looked at his dad as he left through the front door.

He would never walk in through that door again.

His dad would be pulled over for a broken tail light, taken into custody, and fingerprinted. The false identity he used to work during the field’s off-season would resurface and he was sent to a detention center in Louisiana. Eventually, his residency was revoked for fraud in his employment history, and he was deported to Mexico without so much as a chance to say goodbye.

Irvin with his dad in the early 1990s.

Camacho was around 15 at the time. His family lived in a small, cheap apartment on Fink Dr. in Springdale and could not afford a family trip to visit his dad in Mexico. His mother visited him when she could.

Two years passed and Camacho was a senior at Springdale High School. He was the news anchor for the school’s morning broadcast and slipped in stories about immigration when he could. A friend invited him to an organizing group that met at her house every week. A majority of the members were young and undocumented, unable to receive in-state tuition for college. They called themselves the Arkansas Natural Dreamers.

“I was hooked,” Camacho said. “It sounds cringey but it felt like community organizing was my calling and I went every week with friends.”

They had no blueprint on how to address ICE raids in the community– who to talk to and how to inform people of their rights. He said they didn’t know what they were doing.

“Back then people didn’t want to fuck with us. We were a group of young people between 17-25,” he said. “The Democrats wanted nothing to do with us then, now they love us. Back then we were ‘troublemakers’ even though we weren’t, we were just trying to help people.”

Camacho said he’s learned from all his past organizing efforts and the importance of structure in an advocacy group. He’s also mindful of how he treats young people in groups he leads.

“I want them to be in front of the camera to feel empowered,” he said. “When I was young, I constantly heard from older people that I wasn’t doing things correctly, too radical, burning bridges, and not good enough to be in front of the camera.”

Nayeli Carranza, 23, is a stay-at-home mom who woke up to a message on Jan. 23 from her cousin that ICE was in Rogers. A high school friend posted on her Snapchat that her uncle was detained by ICE. Local reports revealed two men and brothers were detained after immigration officers stationed outside their home followed them to work for a Northwest Arkansas landscaping company.

Carranza said she was shocked that deportations were starting in the community so soon after Trump’s election and her immediate reaction was to arrange a protest. As a result, she posted on Facebook: “Voice your rights with me today at 5:30 and Saturday at 2 p.m. we will meet at the parking lot of La Villita where usually everyone does car meets and line up along the 71 business road!! Use your voice for those who are afraid to!! Spread the word make your signs, bring your flag!!!”

This was the first time in her life that she organized and attended a protest. She grew up in Rogers but was never aware of local protests for immigrants like the ones she saw in California on TikTok.

“I winged it,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.

Nobody online confirmed with Carranza they were going to her Thursday night protest on the day the men were detained but she still went. She arrived at La Villita, a Mexican grocery store in Rogers, expecting five people and 15 showed up to protest ICE raids.

Within two days, Carranza was back on the sidewalk, a megaphone in hand, and this time with close to 100 people for three hours. She said people came together and it was a communal effort. Members of AIRE answered her request for donations and were present, providing people with snacks, water, and fliers with Know Your Rights information.

Nayeli Carranza at the protest against ICE raids on Jan. 25. Photo by Jonathan Barajas.

Carranza said the protestors received love and support from those who drove past and some people who flipped them off and screamed at them to go back to the country they came from. She would remind people with her megaphone to not pay them any attention. Carranza was relieved that it didn’t get out of control and happy with the turnout and media attention “to show people they are not alone.”

A member of AIRE invited Carranza to join the group. At her first meeting in early February, members approached her, praising her for organizing a protest and offering their help for her next public demonstration. Carranza, with a little guidance from Camacho and other AIRE members, is planning a march in March.

Carranza, who admits to being sometimes shy and a homebody, said she feels compelled to do this, especially since she has time. She said she didn’t want to just sit at home and see deportations happen in the community and not do anything.

In August 2010, Camacho was reunited with his dad at his funeral in Mexico. After drinking alcohol all his life, his dad developed cirrhosis of the liver, and his condition worsened.

His dad’s immediate family raised funds so Camacho and his mom and sister could be there. He remembers looking down at his father’s coffin and thinking, ‘This is the worst that life is going to get, life can’t get any worse than this.’

When he returned to the U.S. after his dad’s funeral, there was a big shift in who he was as a person– he was not easily scared and more outspoken in his activism. But he didn’t talk publicly about his dad.

Years later, Camacho realized it was the loss of his father that propelled him to unapologetically advocate for those faced with the same family separation and given years of his life preventing it from happening to others. This was hard to realize before when he witnessed his undocumented friends go through obstacles he wasn’t faced with.

“I never thought about myself as anything other than privileged,” he said. “I’m a U.S. citizen. I was born here.”

But Camacho now reckons with the effects of not having a father during a pivotal period of his life. On Feb. 28, Camacho spoke publicly about his dad for the third time during a community conversation about AIRE at Casa Magnolia, a coffee shop in Springdale.

“I know the effect that family separation can cause an individual, and I know that even though I’m a U.S. citizen, I’m still affected by the system,” he said to a small crowd seated outside on the wooden porch.

He told them he was affected by the loss of his dad- who he can’t say made a mistake in his eyes- he was trying to feed his kids and provide them with a better place to live.

“I don’t want other people to go through that.”

The post Know Your Rights appeared first on Hill Magazine.

From ancient Indigenous traditions to modern-day customs told through stories of survival and recreation, hunting is heavily embedded within American culture. Autumn is synonymous with the most lively hunting season, but as the weather chills and the leaves fall, familiar moral dilemmas resurface concerning the age-old practice.

Hunters see the act of pursuing and killing game as natural and necessary, while critics contend that hunting is unwarranted and cruel. Across Arkansas, hunters reflect on the distinct role hunting plays in their lives and how they best navigate its ethical complexities. 

The University of Arkansas student sub-chapter of the National Wildlife Society organization aims to connect developing professionals who study conservation biology; the club consistently hosts events in support of conservation efforts and environmental restoration. 

The environmental impact of hunting is debated; it seems paradoxical that the taking of a life could actually bring forth ecological benefits. Officers of the UofA Wildlife Society, Anne Puchalsky and Caleb Temper said that they view hunting as a necessary practice that supports the conservation and preservation of natural resources and wildlife populations. 

“A big reason for this is that hunters care about nature and the animals they hunt,” Templer said. “Someone who loves being in nature and interacting with wildlife is almost certainly going to be a proponent of resource management and species conservation, as a large part of their life is centered around these resources and activities.”

Puchalsky and Templer explained that hunting serves as a reliable source of revenue that is used to maintain environmental conservation efforts. According to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, since 1934, more than $1.1 billion has been generated from the sale of Federal Duck Stamps alone. 

In Arkansas, this funding is crucial in upholding state conservation projects and wildlife agencies. As explained by both Puchalsky and Templer, conservation programs are indispensable because they support wildlife management, which simultaneously bolsters ecological health. Not only do hunters help fund these efforts, but they also share critical information on species with agencies, collecting samples, along with records of sightings and catches, to send to organizations. 

“This information, collected by hunter participation, allows wildlife biologists and academics to understand things like possible disease spread, population age structure, and the genetics of populations,” Templer said. 

Notably, hunters also play a direct role in population management, in which they prevent species from surpassing the carrying capacity of their environment. If there is a lack of natural predators in an ecosystem, wildlife populations can grow unchecked, leading to greater disease spread, overgrazing, and other issues.

Puchalsky said that there have also been several historical instances in which game populations have dwindled in striking numbers. This effect was largely due to negative human interactions, such as unregulated overhunting and land development, they said. In the past, declines were seen in the species of Black Bears, Elk and White-tailed Deer in Arkansas, requiring conservationists to restore populations. 

“Without conservation efforts from state and local agencies, these species would continue to experience declines in populations and may even be pushed to extinction or extirpation (removal from the region),” she said.

Due to these instances of overharvesting, the sustainability of hunting is also commonly contested. To combat these concerns, hunting is regulated under many federal laws, which are intended to ensure the practice mimics natural predation. 

Hunters’ safety courses must be taken and permits must be obtained before one may participate in hunting, Puchalsky and Templer said. Visibility requirements, weapon restrictions and hunting season restrictions, all based on species breeding times, are also set in place. 

“Bag limits, set by wildlife agencies, regulate the number of a given game species that may be hunted by a person,” they said. “These limits are often developed using scientific data collected by state biologists and other conservation specialists.”

Beyond just environmental services, hunting extends other extrinsic values. Hunting can serve as a way to connect with the natural world, preserve familial traditions and promote cultural practices. While it has been argued that this is an unjust rationale behind hunting, many hunters find great worth in the sport alone.

Alex Pinson, who is now 39, has been hunting since he was eight years old. Growing up in rural Leslie, Arkansas as a child, he said that one of the main reasons he enjoys hunting is because it allows him to connect with the outdoors. 

 “I love to explore the beauty of God’s creation,” Pinson said.

For Pinson, hunting is also a way to uphold family traditions; he taught his two sons how to hunt, making it a valuable bonding experience. He also said that the practice allows him to fulfill his role as a provider for his family by supplying food.

Hunting has long held cultural significance in the U.S. Many Indigenous peoples view hunting as being deeply intertwined with spiritual beliefs. Pinson explained that there is an “old hunters tradition” in which one must take a bite of raw meat from the heart of their first kill. 

“I never did this when I was a kid because I started out hunting on my own, but I remember taking my oldest boy hunting, and after the first deer he shot, we went over to my cousins,” Pinson said. “He was like, ‘you gotta take a bite of the deer raw,’ and my son did it.”

Despite these distinct appreciations, hunters must also grapple with the ethical dilemmas of taking an animal’s life. It is up to every individual hunter to make a conscious effort to carry out the most respectful and ethical practices, Pinson noted.  

Central to this ethical code is the principle of fair chase, which declares that hunters should not use unfair advantages against wild game. Demanding a substantial amount of self-restraint, this involves allowing the animal an honest chance to escape against the hunter’s skills and equipment. 

“I think hunting can be ethical, but that depends upon the hunter’s training and their mindset,” Pinson said. “It’s not an easy thing to do. You’re taking a life. You have to be respectful of that life. I will not make an unethical shot unless I think that I can put the animal down quickly and efficiently without it suffering excessively. I feel like nothing should suffer unnecessarily.”

Like Pinson, Quentin Leake also grew up hunting in Arkansas. Now a student at the UofA, he still frequently devotes time to hunting. Leake said that the appeal of the resources, provided by hunted game, have always been his primary reason for hunting. As a child, he said that he rarely ate store-bought meat, heavily relying upon wild game for nourishment. 

Many hunting critics argue that hunting inflicts unnecessary harm onto innocent creatures, therefore making it immoral. However, sustenance is the most common rationale behind hunting. Compared to commercially farmed meats, wild game is often seen as a healthier, higher-quality alternative, making it the preferred source of food for many. Additionally, the harvest of game is frequently considered a much more ethical and sustainable practice by hunters. 

“Hunting has always been very big in my family,” Leake said. “I remember the first time my dad told me ‘you know we’re poor, so if you want something to eat for dinner tonight you better go hunting,’ so that’s what I did.”

Leake said that he believes game is a more sustainable source of protein than store-bought meats; hunting has a significantly lower environmental impact because it does not release as many greenhouse gas emissions in comparison to factory farms. 

“If you eat meat, you should be hunting. A lot of people are hypocritical when they critique hunting but still eat commercially farmed meats. Commercial agriculture treats livestock much more cruelly than hunting.” 

Leake also said that he does not support trophy hunting, the practice of killing animals simply for the purpose of using parts of the carcass for display. He believes that sport hunting is extremely wasteful

“I probably would not hunt if I wasn’t going to get food from it,” Leake said. “Trophy hunting is unethical. I’m completely against shooting the deer and just taking the antlers to leave the deer to rot.”

The morality of hunting is a deeply personal and culturally charged topic. For some, it’s an act of recreation, sport or conservation. For others, it is a moral vice. Despite these dilemmas, hunting invites reflection on responsibility, respect and the consistent relationship between people, wildlife and the environment.

The post Arkansas Hunters Reflect on Dilemmas of the Age-Old Practice  appeared first on Hill Magazine.

There is a modern American cultural emphasis on achieving optimal convenience and productivity; we strive relentlessly for efficiency in hopes of attaining individual success. Technological advancement has only amplified this drive, furthering the demand for speed and rapid consumption. Yet, this fast-paced lifestyle often inhibits mindful action and intentional thought, fostering dissatisfaction and disconnection.

Living deliberately, in resistance to contemporary pressures, can be daunting to navigate. Yet, recognizing how one’s life can hold distinctive meaning through intentional action can be incredibly rewarding.

Emalee Powell, a University of Arkansas student, said that she defines living deliberately as defying societal standards that do not align with one’s personal interests. She said that she lives intentionally by resisting pressures for constant busyness in exchange for prioritizing her own interests.

“I think living deliberately is intentionally breaking that mold and deciding I’m not going to do this,” Powell said. “I’m actually going to take a breather, or read a book or just not do what is expected.”

Avoiding repetitive daily routines is one way in which Powell said she does this. Especially for students, she noted, it’s easy to fall into strict cycles that leave little room for personal enjoyment.

“In high school, I was really bad about being in a routine of: TikTok, school, TikTok, school, sleep, eat,” Powell said. “I just did what was expected, and then I did it all over again.”

Now, Powell said she devotes ample time to fulfilling personal activities, such as cooking and reading, alongside her studies. Simply spending time outdoors is another distinctly rewarding way to break up strict daily routines.

“As a society, it seems like there’s just this cycle of going to school, getting a job, working and then eventually dying,” Powell said. “While you’re giving up money, I think taking time outside of a job, for yourself, is important. You respect yourself much more than if you were to just be stuck in that cycle.”

Hayden Echols, an English creative writing major, said he defines living deliberately as merely living the way that you want to live. To do this, he said he grounds all of his actions in intention, which simultaneously enhances his quality of life.

“I feel like you have to do all things conscientiously,” Echols said.

Detaching from the digital world is one way that Echols said he practices deliberate living. Reliance on technology can strongly impede meaningful connections and interactions through its emphasis on rapidity. 

“Social media is an arena where we’ve lost so much of our ability to live deliberately and intentionally,” Echols said. “Social media, I think, is just very dehumanizing because you’re not really interacting with other people on social media as a human being. You’re interacting with them as an avatar.”

While social media is often marketed as a tool that serves to enhance connection with others, it can also nurture superficial relationships. Excessive consumption of digital content has diminished people’s ability to maintain interest during spoken conversations, inhibiting meaningful human interaction. 

Echols said that he feels social media advertising is blatantly deceptive in claiming to enhance relationships with others. Instead, he said, it actually impairs human connection.

Technological shifts have glorified the speed inherent in digital systems. Intentionally slowing down our actions can serve as an act of resistance by fostering deliberate thoughts and experiences—allowing individuals to make conscious choices aligned with their true desires.

Another crucial way that Echols said he lives intentionally is by considering the sweeping, yet oftentimes concealed, implications his choices hold for all people. Echols said he believes that all lives are interconnected, so deliberate living requires minimizing the burdens we place on others.

“If you’re doing something, maybe that you enjoy, but it harms other people, I feel like you can’t really enjoy those things—at least, if you’re making use of your conscience,” he said.

Echols said that making an effort to be aware of the impacts of his actions allows him to avoid doing unintentional harm to others. Making considerate shopping choices is one way to achieve this.

“I think so many of the shopping decisions we make, we don’t really think about everything that’s going on behind the products that we select and that we buy because it is a very opaque process,” he said. “Growing up, there was never a question of ‘Where is this coming from?’ or ‘Who made this?’ or ‘What are the conditions that they’re living in?’ For most of the country, people haven’t really thought about that.”

Unethical practices often transpire within popular retailers and major corporations, particularly for many online retail brands. Yet, the consumer demand for convenience often takes priority over ethical considerations.  

“Even if it’s expedient and if it’s convenient, I don’t get any enjoyment out of it because I know that I’m harming other people, or I’m harming the planet somehow,” Echols said.

However, there is often a lack of transparency regarding company behavior. It can also be challenging for low-income individuals to make ethical shopping choices when there is a lack of affordable options. Walmart is one of the largest and most affordable retail stores in Northwest Arkansas.

“Walmart doesn’t necessarily treat its workers well, but if I go shopping at other places, then I’m going to be spending more than I can afford to spend. So, my approach to that is just trying to minimize those consequences as much as possible.”

Jill Stone, also an English creative writing major, said they define deliberate living as being considerate of the things that you bring into your life. Like Echols, Stone said they are very conscious of where the products they buy come from.

“I really don’t buy new clothing anymore for a few reasons,” Stone said. “One of them is because I just don’t have a lot of income, so I don’t have money to spend on ethically made clothing. And so, with good consciousness, I couldn’t buy something new at a price that I would be willing to pay because I’m aware that the price I’m willing to pay just isn’t realistic in terms of how much clothing should cost. Clothing itself should cost a lot of money.”

Avoiding overconsumption is another intentional choice that Stone said they make. Being more intentional in this way also generates less waste.

“Whenever I want something, like a new book or whatever, I put it on a list, and then I don’t buy it the second that I think that I might want it,” they said. “Sometimes it’s several months until maybe I find an equivalent second hand.”

Furthermore, meaningful consumption can be cost-efficient. Public libraries, for example, offer many affordable resources, particularly in the form of physical media.

Stone said that they do not use popular streaming services but access media in other ways, such as renting from public libraries. They said they still enjoy physical copies of movies, TV shows, and CDs.

Ultimately, living deliberately can simply mean slowing down, being conscious of habits, and making intentional choices. This may look different for everyone, but it still serves to bring out the same effect—a distinct sense of fulfillment and purpose.

The post Finding Meaning in Living Deliberately appeared first on Hill Magazine.

The thick southern drawl is everywhere from books to TV shows to movies. Arkansas is placed firmly in the south, but in Northwest Arkansas, many people lack the thick drawl of a southern accent. On the surface, it seems that this way of speaking has disappeared.

NWA is part of the Ozark region, a region linguistically associated with the Ozark accent. According to Rachel Whitaker, a historian at the Shiloh Museum of Ozark History, the Ozark accent is a subcategory of the Southern accent with some pronunciation coming historically from the Appalachian region of the United States.  

Whitaker is an eighth-generation Ozarker. When she was growing up in the Ozark region in the 1980s and 1990s, the Ozark accent was still spoken in the region. However, Whitaker says that she no longer has hers and that her vowels have gotten longer. According to Whitaker, in the 25 years since she moved to Oklahoma, she has begun to sound more like an Oklahoman. 

Dakota Pirtle moved from Jonesboro, Arkansas, to Fayetteville, Arkansas, within the past several years to live with her partner, Enoch Anglin. Anglin has moved throughout their life to various parts of Arkansas, but is primarily from the small town of Hoxie.

According to Anglin, they find themselves subconsciously changing the accent they speak with depending on the social context. In academic settings, for example, they speak with less of a southern drawl. In a brief account, Anglin described an experience of being told they had a really strong accent, but to them, they thought they sounded “normal”. 

Pirtle compared her experience of living in Jonesboro to her experience living in Fayetteville, saying that in Jonesboro, when Anglin and her went to Walmart, they heard people just being southern, but that when ‘they’ go to Walmart off M.L.K Jr. Blvd, it isn’t the same.

Gunnar Holstead moved to Fayetteville from Monticello, Arkansas. Where Holstead is from, everybody speaks with a thicker accent and, in his own words, sounds kind of like him. In his experience, when he needs to speak to those in higher positions or have a serious conversation, he speaks more clearly. According to Holstead, there isn’t much of that same accent here in Fayetteville. Though he stated that he is from the Great Plains area rather than the Ozarks.

Whitaker stated that the Southern accent is regional and localized in a lot of ways. She mentions that the areas between the Northwest corner of Arkansas and the Southeast corner of Arkansas have their own distinctions. According to her, the Ozark accent doesn’t exist as it once did, and the changes in the accent spoken in Northwest Arkansas are the result of the consumption of mass media. However, she said that there is still a holdover of some of the words and phrases used in the Ozarks.

Whitaker states that the accent seen in Northwest Arkansas is similar to that of the accent seen in the American Midwest. She thinks this is a result of everybody watching the same people on TV and the same people on streaming services. In her opinion, English is a fabulous language that is just constantly evolving and absorbing. 

In Anglin’s hometown they state that everyone has a Southern accent, not always necessarily a very thick Southern accent but definitely noticeable to others if they left the region. However, in Anglin’s experience, the newer generation’s accents have declined in their thickness.

Pirtle works at a behavioral health hospital in Fayetteville and states that many of the patients she works with do not have a Southern accent. She thinks that some of the decline in the prevalence of the Southern accent is a result of the internet and social media. 

Anglin stated that they have noticed a change in the slang words they use; they began to notice this change in the 2010s during the initial explosion in short-form videos on YouTube and Vine. 

In Holstead’s opinion, Fayetteville lacks the Southern Ozark accent as a result of the influx of students to the University of Arkansas. In his experience, people from Texas speak differently than how Ozarkers do. Holstead also admitted that his speech patterns have adapted slang from social media. For example, Holstead said he uses terms like “fire” and “lit.”

When asked how he thought the Southern accent in Northwest Arkansas would continue to change, Holstead stated that he assumes it will be gone in the future. In Holstead’s opinion, the type of people who move to Fayetteville are not the type of people to keep traditional Southern accents alive. 

In Anglin’s opinion, the Southern accent won’t die off completely. Just as many people assimilate linguistically to the dominant culture, people on the outskirts continue to pass on the accent.

Pirtle explained that Southern accents are a minority in the United States, and that over time they will probably be spoken less, but that she hopes that they will remain. Pirtle said that often people have commented on her thick Southern accent. She often thinks to herself, “Y’all are from Arkansas, too. Why don’t you have a Southern accent? Why do you sound like that?” 

The Ozark accent has declined in Northwest Arkansas. The decline in accent can be attributed to immigration to the NWA area, but as Whitaker explained, modern media consumption and globalization have played a role. On her program on the Ozark accent, Whitaker said that she often tells people, “it’s not that you speak bad English, your English is just different because there are old rules, there’s old pronunciation.”

The post The Decline of Southern Accents in NWA  appeared first on Hill Magazine.