Welcome back friends!
We hope you all had a wonderful break, long enough so you're actually happy to be back in class. This time around we start off with Hazel's chronicle of Friday's protest and an explanation of the disruptive function of demonstrations (1). Along the same lines, we've got a cartoon by Ema (2) and Anton's piece on the peaceful Women's March on Saturday (3). In the face of this rough winter you could try Bella's weekly pie planner (4) and some recommendations from Indra on how to camp in the snowpocalypse (5). Then Claire and Guananí will give you the scoop on Paideia present and past (6, 8). Read about Dan’s home on wheels and his reflections on the contrasts of wealth within cities (10). Next you can enjoy some of Shana's comforting peanut butter hot chocolate, and to top it off, Miss Lonely Heart's helps an anxious Reedie remember the importance of honesty and decency (14).
Love,
Anton, Claire, and Guananí
News & Features
Throughout its 49 year history, Paideia has faced two major dilemmas: low attendance and lack of organization. Paideia was originally conceived by a freshman named Michael Lanning in 1967. Lanning proposed a six week hiatus from normal classes, and proposed that students be able to request academic credit for the projects they carried out during the “Unstructured Independent Study.” 850 students signed a petition in support of Lanning’s proposal, and in 1969 a month between winter break and spring semester was set aside for an experimental program known as “Independent Activities Period.” This month long program embodied a very different vision than the week of fun classes held over Paideia today, focusing on bringing administrative and faculty resources to serve student interests beyond the traditional curriculum.
“I think the future of Paideia is an open question,” Chris Lydgate, a Reed alumnus (’90) and the editor of the Reed Magazine, says, leaning back in his chair. He has had a lot of experience with Paideia; he has put on a Reporters’ Bootcamp during Paideia week for the past ten years more or less. This year was a particularly ambitious year for Lydgate’s Bootcamp. Planning a dozen events ranging from a class taught by Zach Dundas, editor of Portland Monthly, on how to write for a magazine, to special workshops on radio news taught by NPR extraordinaire Robert Smith, these events drew the greatest participation in the Bootcamp history yet.
On Friday, January 20th, a coalition of groups, coming together under the auspices of the new Direct Action Alliance, rallied in Pioneer Square and marched through downtown Portland in protest of Donald Trump’s inauguration. The rally began early in the day, with a student walkout and march leaving from PSU at 2 p.m. and meeting up with members of an anarchist block in Pioneer Square who were burning US flags.
Miss Lonely Hearts
Dear Miss Lonely Hearts,
I dated a girl from Reed all of last year. Over the summer, I found out she was taking the fall semester off. We decided to end things because the long distance was really hard. I've been at Reed this past semester and I've been doing really well. I've moved on and I haven't spoken to my ex since we broke up over the summer. But she's back this semester and I've heard from mutual = friends that she wants to talk to me. I don't really want to have this conversation. I know she still likes me and I'm just not a confrontational person. I see her a lot in the halls and around campus, but I've been trying to avoid her. I can't keep this up all year, so how do I make it clear to this person that I don't want to rekindle our old relationship?
Sincerely,
The Anxious Dodger

It’s sunset. The long-since blown-out shocks of my vehicle float around the city of Boulder, Colorado. I’m looking for a place to park and sleep in my car for the night. Turn after turn, the traffic pulls the energy from my mind. I hate driving―especially in the city. Perhaps a back-road out of town will yield a pull-out with some privacy. I cruise out of town, breathing the slightly fresher air. The road winds up a canyon, the twilight breeze rushing through the windows as I drive upwards. Floods have washed out large sections of road. Uprooted trees, rocks, and various forms of Nature’s destructive force strew the land, beautifying the road. My lungs suck breath after exhilarating breath, my ears take in rushing wind and water, and my eyes dart from rock to rock with clarity. I see a large dirt pullout created by the force of pure Nature. The car reaches a halt and I hop out to take in the inspiring solitude. Write. I need to sit down and bleed on a page.