Category: Opinions

Houghton College students are some of the most caring and well-meaning people that I have ever encountered. Here, we are encouraged to practice empathy and understanding when interacting with faculty, staff, and students. Although it may be uncomfortable, Houghton teaches students to practice empathy and understanding, and I think many students try hard to emulate that.

When someone is mourning a tragic loss, a common empathetic response is “What can I do to help?” This often communicates to the person struggling that someone cares. Asking what you can do to help is a seemingly wonderful sentiment to offer. If you want to support someone, but are unsure of how to do that, it makes sense  to ask. It’s a kind gesture, and if you actually listen to the response, you may have found valuable insight for the rest of your life.

I also hear this statement used when difficult situations occur that seem to especially affect our minority students. If you were on campus when a Houghton student received a racist note last spring, you may remember many people asking minority students, “What can I do to be helpful?” For many students, this was their way of caring and showing support. Many white students wanted to do something to help heal the wounds that minority students were feeling, but had no idea what would be the most helpful.

While the intentions behind this approach are kind, I want to caution people against using it as a method of support. For starters, when I heard about the incident of overt racism on our campus, I was distraught. As a human, I was disgusted. As a black man, I was both fearful and angry. I could hardly hold myself together in the days following the incident. When people would ask how they could be helpful, while I understood their kind intentions, it felt like I had this responsibility of educating my white peers on how to be empathetic while I was just struggling to make it through an entire shift at work.

I and many other minority students felt like we were being asked to lead the charge in social justice on campus when we were barely finding words to explain how we were feeling. We were already tired of trying to explain to people why they needed to listen to a chapel speaker who raised difficult topics about race the week before. Imagine how much more tired we were when we were constantly being asked to come up with helpful tips to empathize with us in our time of need.

Another issue I have with this method of support is that it feels like my white peers haven’t actually been listening to either me or other minorities on campus. Don’t get me wrong, I know that people have good intentions when asking how they can help. However, I feel like we have been trying to teach campus how to be supportive for a long time. What happened to all of the panel discussions we’ve had regarding racial reconciliation? Did white students, faculty, and staff forget what we talked about, or were they simply not paying attention? In either case, it hurts knowing that these discussions haven’t really helped change anything.

I’m not saying that white people should stop trying to find ways to support minorities. As a campus community, as the body of Christ, and as decent human beings, we should always be looking for ways to support one another. However, asking how you can be supportive should be a proactive measure, not an emergency response. If you find ways to be helpful, take note of that, and keep it in your memory for when it comes time for you to support someone.

Sometimes it’s not about what you say. Sometimes it’s about when you say it. This means that you may have to have difficult conversations before difficult situations arise. Even when you don’t see something tragic on the news or in your community, you may still need to engage in discussions about race. We need to be talking about race and how it impacts our culture, and how our diverse cultures make our experiences at Houghton different. If we have these tough conversations now rather than later, we will see instances of overt racism and have a better and more prepared response than “How can I help?”

Joe is a senior majoring in communication with a concentration in media arts and visual communication.

Lately I’ve been thinking about why we are here. Why choose a Christian education? What does a Houghton education have to offer us that other schools do not? Finally, is it worth the cost?

My short answer is “Yes, it’s worth the cost.” Real shocker, I’m sure. This may sound a little obvious, coming from a person who spent a few years being homeschooled, went to a private Christian middle and  high school, and then ended up here. What else am I going to say, right?

Well, it’s not that simple. I have seen a lot of things that turn me off in all the Christian institutions that I’ve attended. There are major flaws in all of them, and I can think of reasons for anyone in my shoes to say, “It’s not worth it” and walk away. I think a lot of people at Houghton have at some point thought those very words. So why do I still think it’s worth it?

For one, you will find flaws in every single institution, whether Christian or secular. Being a Christian institution doesn’t make Houghton automatically better, but does mean that it should be different. It means that our school and other Christian institutions should foster a culture of grace. I have seen so many people in leadership positions at Houghton and in other Christian schools react to mistakes in an extremely merciful way. When problems come up, as they undoubtedly will, having administrators and leaders that model a forgiving, graceful attitude makes a huge difference.   

To provide some more context, I’m a junior education major. This means that I’ve spent a lot of time in many different high schools, most of them secular.  The teachers I have observed have a range of different mindsets. The first time I saw a group of teachers complaining about their students to each other during lunch made a big impression on me. Pro tip: avoid being the only person in the room that isn’t trash-talking students, because it is very uncomfortable. That experience has helped me to better appreciate the amazing teachers and professors that I’ve had at Houghton.

This has also solidified in my mind the importance of carrying my faith into the places I go. Certainly, not every secular public school has a negative attitude toward students, nor is  this attitude completely removed from Christian schools. Everyone has their bad days. But the attitude of teachers will influence the students.  Thankfully, in my experience, Christian school teachers and professors have not shown that same destructive attitude.  At a college like Houghton, it is vital to foster a positive and encouraging attitude. I’ve seen a lot of amazing examples of this in my time here, and I believe it stems from shared faith and values. The community created by our Christian faith is a big reason that education at Houghton is so meaningful to me.

These two examples that I mentioned—a culture of forgiveness and an encouraging, Christ-centered environment—are built not only by teachers, but also by the students. Especially since we live on campus, we play a vital role in cultivating these important parts of our community. We can each be more understanding when problems arise. We can be encouraging rather than always focusing on the negatives. We can remember how privileged we are to be here. I know there are many things to argue, to debate, and to question. But if you ask me whether a Christian education is worth it, I’ll say yes every time. I hope that you’ll do the same.

Gena is a junior majoring in adolescent education and English with an art minor.

In a society full of pressures and stress, many people struggle with unhappiness and negative feelings about themselves. The self-love movement has swept across our culture in an effort to counteract the internal hardships so many people face. An article written for Psychology Today defines self-love as “a state of appreciation for oneself that grows from actions that support our physical, psychological and spiritual growth.” Countless articles and books offer advice on how to live your best life by loving yourself. The self-love movement has not been restricted to the secular world—many Christians have embraced it as well. But how should we respond to these ideas as people of faith? I believe that rather than embracing self-love, we should be wary of its potential dangers and never consider it separately from the Gospel.

On the surface, it is difficult to find fault with the self-love movement. What could be wrong about feeling good in your own skin, thinking encouraging thoughts, or setting aside time to focus on your health? There is nothing inherently wrong with these things, but they become dangerous when we consider them separately from the truths of the Gospel. All too often Christians have embraced the concepts of self-love without filtering them through Scripture. If we examine the tenets of self-love, it becomes clear that this movement undermines the Gospel.

One of the underlying tenets of self-love is that every person is worthy of love. No one has to earn love—we all merit it simply because we are people. According to Scripture, however, we are not worthy of love. Romans 3:23 says, “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God…” One of the beauties of the Gospel is that God loved us when we were lost in sin and provided a way of salvation even though we had done nothing to merit it. Self-love encourages us to always think positively of yourself and repeat mantras like “I am enough.” But the Gospel tells us that we are decidedly not enough. We are entirely undeserving of God’s grace and can do nothing to save ourselves. Ephesians 2:8-9 says, “For it is by grace you have been saved through faith and this not of yourselves, it is the gift of God, not of works, that any man should boast.” If we believe that we merit God’s favor and are enough on our own, we lose our reliance on God’s grace for our salvation.

Another major tenant of self-love is accepting who you are, being happy in your own skin. As Christians, however, we are not called to contentment with our present selves. Instead, we are called to sanctification. We are not called to simply love ourselves and to accept our weaknesses and struggles. No, we are called to be always striving towards holiness. 2 Peter 1:3-4 says: “His divine power has given us everything we need for a godly life through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness.” God demands our best and calls us to put to death the things that inhibit us from living Godly lives.

In all of this, however, I am not saying that we should hate ourselves. As human beings, each of us has been created in the image of God. It is important to recognize the value and beauty of human life. I also recognize the complexities of our feelings about ourselves, and how negative ones can fuel mental illness. But I believe that self-love is only a bandage. It is misleading to attempt to heal depression, low self-esteem, or anxiety by simply accepting ourselves. Eventually, we will always come to the end of ourselves, and if we are relying on self-love alone we will be left in despair. We cannot stop at ourselves. Instead we must find our worth in Christ. When self-deprecating thoughts creep into our lives, let us not look at our own accomplishments or repeat encouraging phrases for comfort. Instead, let us remember the work of God in our life. Alone we are broken and flawed, but in Christ we are spotless and redeemed.

Emma is a junior majoring in music education.

“Stop me if you’ve heard this one before.” I am sitting at one of the uneven booths in the dining hall, talking to a friend, dragging my fork through the dribble of ketchup on my plate. “But I can’t wait to leave.”

Over the past two semesters, I’ve had this conversation plenty of times. “I’m not sure why I’m even here.” “I’m so ready for graduation.” “I just can’t wait to leave, to get out of here. To move on with my life.” “Honestly, I find it hard to believe Houghton will still be here in twenty years.” I sometimes find myself saying the same things.

No wonder we’re all so tired after the past year, with its tumultuous political scene, plenty of controversies closer to home, and a series of social debates that often failed to distinguish between respecting each other’s opinions and acknowledging their humanity. But I think it’s deeper than that. I think it’s because, juvenile as it may sound, none of us truly have homes right now.

I don’t fully belong anymore to my home in Pennsylvania, with its scrappy green fields and roving cows. But I don’t belong to Houghton, and never will, not in the same way that the people who ink 14744 onto their outgoing bill payments,  get their snow tires rotated at a mechanic in Olean, and have novels from the Belfast library on their bedside tables. They are invested in the health and wellbeing of this community in a way that I simply cannot be. Add to this our obsession with “wanderlust” and scorn toward the idea of “settling down,” as if settling down is not what humans have primarily been doing forever, and it’s no wonder that we can’t be happy where we are.

This exhaustion is to be expected, I suppose, with a community that is so fundamentally transitory. The longer I’ve spent here, the more I’ve found myself wondering if you can be a person, in the fullest sense of the word, without having a place. Without the intention to stay somewhere for a while, without the intention to suffer and grow with it, can you ever belong?

The Star is another representative of this transitory culture, and maybe that makes us part of this problem. Every few years the website or the masthead or the novelty columns might change entirely, depending on what the people in charge think is best. Staff turns over every year. Editors-in-chief cycle in and out, and each one brings with them a different “mission statement” about what this newspaper should and shouldn’t be, what it ought and ought not to do.

So I’ve been thinking of these lines from Philip Larkin’s poem “Home Is so Sad”: “It stays as it was left, shaped to the comfort of the last to go, as if to win them back. Instead, bereft of anyone to please, it withers.” Right now we are the “last to go,” and conflicted as I am about the culture at Houghton right now, I don’t want it to wither when we’ve gone. That, to me, is part of what being a Christian is: the conviction to treat every place as if it is your place, because all people are your people. I want to shape this place not only to my comfort, but to the comfort of those who will come later. Next year, let’s try to share this conviction together.

Carina is a majoring in English and communication with a concentration in media arts and visual communication.

With 16 (!!!) days until graduation, I’ve found myself reflecting on the amazing and sometimes comically frustrating experience I’ve called undergrad.

After a horrible first semester at a state school, I found myself lost and in search of something new.  A friend recommended Houghton and within the week I was on campus for a tour. My love of this place was immediate, and continues to this day. As my years here passed, though, the cynicism toward Houghton I heard from peers clouded my view of the place that had pulled me from one of the darkest times of my life. Exclamations of horrible professors, a mishandled administration, and threats of transferring came from all around. The more Houghton’s flaws were brought to my attention, the more I began searching for them without even realizing it. Soon I’d forgotten the childlike love I’d had of this place, and criticized everything Houghton offered me.

Senior year rolled around and the nostalgia, that everyone promised would come, appeared. This nostalgia took me back to the first time I’d first come to Houghton as a naive teenager excited for life. This was the Houghton I loved, one that had stoked the flames of passions and taught me to be who I am. This year I truly came to grasp how unique Houghton truly is, and how important it is to appreciate it it’s flaws instead of simply complaining about them.

Now, before you grab your picket signs and prepare to tell me how easy that is to say, and how working for the Star makes me biased, hear me out.

One of the most common complaints I’ve heard about Houghton is in regards to its grading scales. We all moan about the professors who don’t curve their grades, leaving you just shy of that A you’ll never let anyone forget you deserve. Yes, Houghton’s academics are difficult and it’s frustrating, but I’ve never had professors that want me to succeed more than the ones here. I’ve been given grace, generous extensions, knowledgeable explanations, and more compassion than one can measure. My professors have pushed me to the limit of my academic ability, but have never let me fall over the edge.

We complain about mandatory chapels, but how else would we achieve the feeling of community (cue eye roll) Houghton continues to foster? We complain about how often we say and emphasize community, but where else will professors pray with and for you as you struggle through a difficult semester? We complain the administration won’t tell us more, but who else will adamantly protect their students and employees?

We complain, and complain, and complain. Professors, Sodexo, Safety and Security, parking tickets, broken dryers, lengthy papers, other majors, etc. There’s always something we’re complaining about, and that’s not going to change, not as new students replace the seniors each year, and not as you leave Houghton and enter the real world.

One thing my time at the Star has taught me, is that in order order to truly appreciate the beauty and wonder Houghton has to offer, you have to learn to love the bad. I don’t mean love in the sense that you become enamoured with every flaw Houghton has. You don’t need to overlook that there are, indeed, problems with the institution. Anything good it life will have flaws, that’s a fact. But enjoy the fact that Houghton has flaws. Despite seeing themselves as serving God’s kingdom, they don’t claim to be perfect, and there’s something to be said for that. They’re humble enough to admit when they’ve done wrong, but continue to try to do the right thing in everything they do.

Revel in Houghton’s problems, let them challenge you, and help you grow. Don’t just appreciate the good that Houghton has to offer, appreciate the challenges it presents and the struggles it faces. Without challenge and obstacles, there is no way to measure growth. Let the obstacles stand before you, but don’t let them stop you from getting everything you can out of this place. Be the one to use those obstacles to help you mature physically, spiritually, and mentally instead of someone who simply complains about the roadblocks.

Dani is a senior majoring in writing and communication.

The Black Swan and the Emperor’s New Clothes

Why are “experts” unable to predict most of history’s greatest events?

Not too long ago, an emperor was so exceedingly fond of new clothes he spent his money on being well dressed. Two swindlers came to town pretending to be the world’s best weavers and claimed they developed a wardrobe so fine it was believed only the intelligent could see it. The Emperor debuted his new clothes to the town folk, who showered the Emperor with kind words. Out of fear of looking stupid, nobody confessed that the emperor was naked. However, a little child yelled, “He is nude!” Yet, the Emperor walked more boldly than ever, as his noblemen held high his fake cloak and train that weren’t there at all.

Today’s elite, intellectuals, the mainstream media, Hollywood, and academics, have been sold a new set of clothes that have left them blind and naked to world events. Through their “infallible” knowledge from faulty inductive reasoning, these experts have developed theories that have become a new secular theology. Their arguments of “settled science” mean the educated faithful must accept scientific theory, even though science should never consider anything settled. Scientific theories are meant to be met with a skeptical mind, not blind acceptance. The perceived “infallibility” of the social sciences is even worse. Economics, political theory, investing, and psychology are becoming increasingly formula based in order to impose a simple meaning to an intricate world. When these polished formulas meet the messy reality of the real world, they can cause damage and suffering to the rest of the population who do not live in the insulated cloisters of the elites super zip code towns. According to philosopher Nassim Taleb, when making decisions that affect all people, elites “mistake the map for the territory.” Their closed minded decisions cannot factor major historic shifts. Major historic changes such as the American Revolution, World War I, Martin Luther King Jr., and recently Brexit and Donald Trump’s presidential victory were not predicted by these elite. Taleb calls these improbable and disruptive events, “Black Swan events.”

The phrase “black swan” originates from Roman times where the elite thought of black swans like unicorns; they did not exist. When someone questioned the time’s popular science or political theory, people laughed and said, “Sure and black swans exist!” Then in 1697, a Dutch explorer discovered black swans in Australia which shocked the western world. The discovery wasn’t that significant except for the fact something believed to be a fantasy was now proven to exist. Essentially, Fake News wasn’t Fake News anymore.

Today, we live in an era of lost economic growth created by a Black Swan event called the 2008 Financial Crisis which is now nearly a decade old. All the “experts” at the Federal Reserve, U.S. Treasury, U.S. Congress, the White House, and the major Wall Street Banks were unable to predict the crisis. For years, Americans were told that homeownership was part of the American Dream. Government officials forced banks to loan to people with little or no money down, and Wall Street embraced it by developing financial innovations such as Mortgage Backed Securities and Collateralized Debt Obligations. These financial innovations are deemed risky today, but in 2007 these innovations were often given a AAA rating. AAA ratings are given only to the safest assets in the financial system. No one thought the housing crisis would occur because it had never occurred in American history. It seemed to be a safe bet.

Instead of learning a lesson from the Financial Crisis, the political elite passed the Dodd-Frank Act of 2010. Dodd Frank completely misunderstands the symptoms of the crisis. It was not Wall Street’s greed to take on risk that caused the crisis. Rather, it was the naked arrogance of Wall Street, credit agencies, and government regulators that created a risk assessment theory that wrongly assumed it mitigated any risk. Dodd-Frank replaces one faulty theory for another, and has destroyed small banks and small businesses that are the engine of the economy.

In the 1960s, the hippie generation proclaimed, “don’t trust anyone over 30.” Today, that generation has grown up to be a part of the elite. They think we must trust only their worldview, their theories, their formulas, and their news. For the class of 2017, my suggestion is to be skeptical and adaptable. We must look up from our books and boldly experience the world in its true rugged essence.

Joseph is a senior majoring in accounting and business administration with a minor in economics.

This past March, Middlebury College in Vermont hosted the controversial political scientist Charles Murray as a guest speaker. Murray has been decried as a “white supremacist” in light of his book The Bell Curve, which arguably supports scientifically-defended racism. The Southern Poverty Law Center calls Murray a “white nationalist” who “believes in the intellectual and moral superiority of white men and advocates for the elimination of welfare and affirmative action.” Clearly, some of Murray’s expressed views are contentious at best and extremely harmful at worst. But does he retain the right to speak, and engage in respectful discussion in an academic setting?

Middlebury students, evidently, did not think so. Groups of angry students protested his talk, turned their backs to the stage and yelled out organized chants over his words. When college administrators moved the talk to another room to be broadcasted online, protesters pulled the fire alarm and cut off the connection. Afterwards, protesters followed Murray to his car, rocked, hit, and even jumped on the vehicle. This violent display by upset students is shocking. Yet, I couldn’t help but be reminded of our own community’s response to Julian Cook’s chapel this past February. I want to be clear: I’m not arguing that those who walked out of Cook’s chapel are the same as the violent demonstrators at Middlebury.

Yet, their similarities must be observed. Both of these actions (walking out, pulling the fire alarm) carry messages of outright disrespect, regardless of one’s personal opinions concerning either issue. The message implicit in both protestations are clear: “I refuse to listen to your wrongful opinion,” and in both instances the rigid unwillingness to listen prevented any genuine (and potentially enlightening) dialogue to take place.

I was embarrassed and angry as I watched members of our Houghton community walk out of Cook’s chapel. I was even angrier when a student sitting in front of me jeered and made a public show of putting in headphones while Cook laid bare many of his fears and hopes. I find this unwillingness to entertain other perspectives, evident in both the reactions to Cook’s chapel and the Middlebury protests, deeply disturbing.

I personally disagree with Charles Murray, and probably agree with the opinions of some of the Middlebury protesters. Yet I am appalled and horrified by their actions. They had a rare opportunity to engage and listen firsthand to a recognized figure with whom they disagree. What better way to deepen their knowledge and learn to argue respectfully, and what better context than an academic setting?

I am proud of our community’s attempts to facilitate open discourse. But we cannot have open discourse if we ourselves are not willing to be open. This means we must relinquish our claims to absolute moral superiority against an unrighteous other. I heard several reasons for walking out of Julien Cook’s chapel, one of which stated that Cook was saying hateful things against the police and was expressing racism against white people.

Regardless of whether or not you disagree, Julian Cook deserves to be listened to. He had the chapel floor. Disagreeing with his message does not justify the insensitivity and downright rudeness of leaving in the middle of his talk. It is your choice not to listen. It is your own choice not to learn. But something changes when your actions hurt other people. Though leaving chapel is not as extreme as jumping on a car, it sent a message to everyone attending chapel that day: “I do not respect voices that are different from my own.” And that, in this college where we are privileged to interact with diverse opinions every day, is unacceptable.

Ava is a senior majoring in English and communication.

The summer before my freshman year I promised myself that I would be more honest with myself and others. I didn’t make this promise because I have a history of being a pathological liar, or because I avoided the truth at all costs. I made it because it’s important to understand the reasons behind our actions.

I haven’t always made good on that wager. Sometimes, I have run in the opposite direction with as much anger and spite as I could muster. I would give into a thirst for solitude, this need to be alone to think, alone with God and no one else. There have been times when I didn’t want to listen to someone who was hurting or even love them enough to just be present with them. These times were extremely uncomfortable. They weren’t picturesque moments of re-commitment that led to an immediate shift in behavior or the overall quality of my life. These moments were raw, sloppy, covered in tears, bookended with grace, and maybe even a twinge more of peace or happiness.

I’m writing this because Houghton isn’t perfect, neither am I, and neither are you. We all fail at cultivating an authentic sense of honesty with one another and with God at some point or another. If I have learned one lesson my entire Houghton career, it would be that you grow when you are faced with the uncomfortable. Not the discomfort you feel after eating Sodexo, or the disappointment  you feel when your Big Al’s bucks run out. This isn’t small discomfort, but rather the uncomfortableness of hearing something you don’t agree with in chapel, reaching out to that friend who hasn’t been there for you or vice versa, maybe the uncomfortableness of being alone. Whatever it is, being uncomfortable can be a good thing if you are willing to dig deeper to the root of your discomfort.

We make the mistake of believing that God is calling us to some life-changing, sin eradicating moment that will somehow define our identity. We want change to be immediate. I’m not saying this is beyond God’s power, it’s not. But many of us fail to see that God has called us to do small things here and now because we have become too distracted by the possibilities of doing something great in the future. We are called to higher standard than straining toward what may happen or being stuck on what has happened, we are called to love and listen to those who are hurting. This doesn’t mean you must agree, it doesn’t mean it will be easy, and it certainly doesn’t mean you’ll be comfortable. To be willing to sit through a chapel that makes you squirm and deeply challenges you, or to go and have that conversation you’ve been putting off will be filled with uncomfortableness, but it will make you grow.

Go, sit through a challenging chapel, even if you’ve already received all 28 chapel credits. Go to an SGA coffeehouse on a talk you don’t understand. Have a conversation with someone you’ve been avoiding. Listen to people who are hurting and how you can help them, listen to how you can learn to love better, even if you don’t agree. Philippians 4:4-7 “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” Be uncomfortable.

Kirsten is a junior majoring in communication with a concentration in media arts and visual communication.

A few weeks ago, President Trump signed an executive order that nullifies Obama-era environmental efforts and seeks to revive the coal industry. While it is not an official exit from the Paris Climate Agreement of 2016, this executive order will make it impossible for the U.S. to meet clean energy goals. What disturbs me most about this executive order is its arbitrariness. It is a political statement, nothing more. It only serves to further polarize and impede bipartisan efforts to find solutions to climate change. When we communicate about the environment simply as a political issue, we undermine the people and places affected by its degeneration.

Throughout President Trump’s campaign, he vowed to repeal the Obama-era Clean Power Plan and prioritize fossil fuel industry jobs over renewable energy jobs, a statement that appealed to many conservative voters. Though they applauded the executive order, most coal miners do not expect the coal industry to return to its peak due to dwindling reserves and market forces. This executive order’s purported victory is therefore almost entirely symbolic, but its effects will be real for the environment and the U.S. as a country. With the way cleared for the fossil fuel economy, environmental regulations that protect our health and our resources are tossed aside.

The environment has long been a political pressure point in America. Climate change and conservation efforts have been cast as liberal issue. Friction between conservation efforts and corporate interests have reinforced that idea. However, this is an illusion, since environmental issues represent threats to just as many conservative values as liberal values. According to the U.S. military, climate change poses a significant threat to national security. Loss of crops due to climate change damages regional and national economies, which in turn threatens the job market. This shows that our words and actions surrounding issues of the environment have a direct impact on the environment itself. When people accept the idea that caring for the environment is solely a liberal cause, they miss some basic realities.

Why are we divided? On this one, we really can’t afford to be. While both liberals and conservatives are out attacking political symbols, our real Earth and real, vulnerable people are suffering. Some claim climate change is a hoax, and others delude themselves into thinking since they believe in climate change they are not part of the problem. Both ignore what we have in common, and make working together for positive change difficult. We are all inheritors of this Earth and its problems.

This polarization surrounding environmental issues discourages me, but there is hope. For the past few months, I have been calling Republican Congressman, Tom Reed, about climate change. Congressman Reed, I might add, is an avid supporter of President Trump. At first, I didn’t understand how to communicate about environmental issues with someone who I assumed would dismiss me out of hand. I kept trying, however, even attending a town hall meeting that involved standing outside in the mud for three hours surrounded by a hundred shouting people. I respected the Congressman’s calm demeanor during this event, yet I was bewildered and disappointed to see many liberal constituents and the conservative Congressman essentially speaking different languages on some issues.

I didn’t give up on trying to learn to communicate more effectively, however, because I believe we have more in common than we are led to believe. A month ago, I was encouraged to learnCongressman Reed had signed onto the Republican Climate Resolution, which states climate change is a legitimate threat that requires action. A few weeks ago, I experienced something even more concretely affirming. After calling Congressman Reed for months asking him to join the Bipartisan Climate Solutions Caucus, I received the news that he had done just that. Cooperation is possible! We can think rationally about the environment and listen to people instead of allowing political stereotypes to control our behavior. We can accomplish things that benefit all of us.

As children, most of us were probably lectured by our parents a number of times about the power of words. We’re taught to remain silent if we have nothing kind to say, that we cannot take back what we say to others, and that our words have the ability to build others up or tear them down. Through these lessons, children and adults alike come to a basic understanding of the wonder and mystery of language, that despite being a series of arbitrary symbols and sounds, words are perhaps the most formidable tool at human disposal.

While some people might be unfazed by this discovery, I am not. I’ve long been fascinated by the impact our choice of language has in shaping not only our interpersonal relationships, but our most foundational beliefs and thought processes. Consider for a moment in some Inuit communities, there are as many as 50 words for snow, such as “piegnartoq” for “the snow [that is] good for driving sled” and “aqilokoq” for “softly falling snow.” In this case, the use of language has created an alternate perception of reality and opened up a whole other world for these communities, in which what I consider “snow” is a much more complex and nuanced matter.

Naturally, as I became passionate about international development, I began to question the language we use around poverty. Specifically, how it aids or hinders poverty reduction efforts. I soon realized that, although poverty is a worldwide phenomenon, it most strongly affects countries in the Global South. However, international responses to it are primarily controlled by the Global North. As a result, many of the people who have the power to shape international development efforts are largely unaffected by poverty themselves, and therefore exposed to the issue primarily through mass media entities. What does this mean? The content mass media present, and the way in which they present it, is one of the driving forces behind global poverty reduction efforts.

At this point, you may be expecting me to denounce the media, arguing its representation of  poverty and the people whom it affects is incorrect. While this is certainly the case sometimes, much of what is presented in the media is not inherently false. Rather, the issue is that it falls prey to the “single story” phenomenon. This concept refers to the tendency of mass media to use such similar language, images, and ideas when communicating about these global issues, audiences form a distorted or limited understanding about them. For example, how often do we see images of unhappy children with distended stomachs, or hear about “war-torn” and “unstable” areas in news stories or films about Africa? On the other hand, how often do we see images of happy and thriving families, or hear about “successful” and “ethical” businesses?

The issue is not that the poverty narrative communicated in mass media is wrong, it’s that it’s incomplete. Unfortunately, this is lost on many people in the West who, having only ever encountered the developing world and its inhabitants through words and images on a page or screen, accept this singular narrative as the full reality. The result is the Global South is not viewed as  dynamic, thriving communities in the minds of others, but rather become that single, flat image of a haunting family outside a mud hut in a conflict-ridden area.

Now, maybe this doesn’t seem like a problem to you. But I’d argue, among Christians, it should. For how can we love our brothers and sisters around the world if we see them as being somehow worth less than us? How can we care for them if we do not understand their needs? How can we be the united Body of Christ if we see them as entirely different from ourselves? Dare to demand more from the nonprofits you support and the media you consume. Dare to demand they honor the Imago Dei in their representations of the people from every corner of the world.

Marina is a senior majoring in communication and international development.