All Things Interrogated

As a lifelong sports fan and an artist who loves tradition, I found the Michigan mascot debates around the Redskins nickname deeply personal—and surprisingly complex. While watching the Detroit Lions gear up for a playoff face-off, I couldn’t help but reflect on Michigan’s costly crusade to rid schools of Native American mascots, a campaign that’s stirred emotions, politics, and state dollars alike. This is more than just mascots changing; it’s a clashing of identities and values that’s been decades in the making. The Michigan Mascot Crackdown: Costs, Causes, and Controversies In January 2025, as the Detroit Lions prepared for a high-stakes playoff game, my mind wandered from football to a different kind of battle playing out across Michigan: the state’s ongoing “war on the Redskins.” This campaign—focused on mascot removal in Michigan —has cost taxpayers a sta...

When Belding Area Schools retired the Redskins mascot, it marked not just a change in logos or team names, but a cultural and emotional pivot point for many—especially local veterans who still hold strong ties to the old identity. This led to a unique act of remembrance: the Belding veteran community erected a 'Redskins' veteran memorial in the town’s veterans park, blending respect for military service with a controversial symbol. Now, the question begs—will Saranac’s veteran community follow suit? As I dove into this story, I realized it’s far more than a sports debate; it’s a clash of values, memory, and identity. Belding’s Mascot Change: A Veteran Community’s Complex Tribute As I’ve reported on the evolving mascot debate in Ionia County, Belding’s journey stands out for its complexity and the deep ties between the school’s identity and its veteran co...

The Belding Museum has managed to achieve a rare and wretched feat: they have turned the "Season of Light" into a showcase of darkness. By mounting a Christmas display centered on the "Redskin" slur, this institution has not only failed the basic tenets of historical education; it has committed a profound act of moral sacrilege. It is a display that demands we celebrate "Goodwill toward men" while bowing at the altar of a term born from the commodification of Indigenous bodies. The Anatomy of a Slur Let us be ruthless about the language: "Redskin" is not a nickname. It is not a tribute. It is a bounty-hunter’s term. It is a word rooted in the literal skinning of human beings for profit—a colonial ledger entry for a scalp. To take this word, dripping with the blood of ethnic cleansing, and wrap it in the soft, velvet trappings of Christmas is ...

Ever imagined yourself at the edge of military boot camp, with every fiber of your being challenged, and that one drill instructor pushing you so hard you almost lost it—like, really almost punched him? Yeah, that was me. Before I ever put on the uniform, there was that burning fiery spirit inside me, itching to rebel against the noise and the pushing. Here’s how surviving Marine Corps boot camp almost met my impulsive side head-on. The Art Behind the Scream: Drill Instructors as Vocal Warriors Looking back, I used to think the legendary “drill instructor scream” was just about being loud—pure chaos echoing through the squad bay. But after surviving Marine Corps boot camp, and listening to stories like those shared on Task & Purpose, I realized there’s a real art to it. The scream isn’t just noise; it’s a tool, a weapon, and, in the right hands, a form of l...

Imagine a lowly crab scruttling across Omaha Beach, witnessing history unfold from the sandy shore where tides once swallowed bravery whole. Through my many years clacking along these shores, I've seen more than just waves. I've seen human courage, the stealthy approach of warriors from distant lands, and the echoes of battle that still whisper beneath the wind’s howl. This is the story of Charles Shay, a Penobscot medic who danced on the edge of life and death on D-Day. I tell it not just as a crustacean spectator but as a keeper of the sands’ memories. From Tide Pools to War Tales: A Crab’s Perspective on Charles Shay’s Early Life and D-Day Landing If you could see the world through my eyes—a crab scuttling across the shifting sands of Omaha Beach—you’d know that every shell, every ripple, and every shadow tells a story. On June 6, 1944, the beach was...

Few would expect the flutter of a bushy tail high above Highway 6 could have such disastrous consequences. Yet, from my vantage as an Iowa City squirrel, I witnessed firsthand how one man's reckless moment with an air rifle spiraled into tragedy—not just for a local Marine, but for our entire community (furry and otherwise). As someone who's dodged a fair share of pellets, let me take you inside an incident that forever altered the balance between humans, laws, and a squirrel’s quest for survival. The Day a Snack Turned Sour: Air Rifle Shooting Details from Above From my perch on the power lines above Highway 6, I’ve seen countless humans pass by, most of them too busy to notice us squirrels darting between branches and wires. But on one crisp October day in 2021, everything changed in an instant—a moment that would ripple through Iowa City and beyond. ...

They call me the Goat of Kyiv—though, to be clear, no one ever asked if I wanted the job title. One day I’m minding my own business outside a hospital in Zaporizhzhia, the next, I’m swept up in something far stranger than foraging for weeds. Most tales in war come from soldiers or strategists, but this one? This is from the goat who allegedly changed the course of a battle. Let me walk (and maybe chew) you through the chaos, confusion, and curious fame that has followed me since that fateful encounter. Hooves in the Crossfire: The Goat of Kyiv’s ‘Heroic’ Moment How a Routine Graze Turned into the Zaporizhzhia Hospital Incident It started as any other day for me, a goat with simple needs and a keen nose for fresh grass. The fields near the hospital in Zaporizhzhia were familiar territory, and I wandered freely, searching for something tasty. What I didn’t know ...

Honestly, I always thought piñata life would be all fiestas and gentle taps. Not so on the USS John P. Murtha. As a MEGA piñata, my sole purpose was to endure sailor swings, all while oozing candy and eavesdropping on the fleet’s woes. Ever wonder what it’s like to be the Navy’s most beloved (and battered) stress relief tool? Buckle up, because you’re about to get the inside scoop, straight from my dented cardboard shell. Piñata Peril: My First Day on Deck (A Sticky Start to Morale Boosting) Let me set the scene: July 2, 2024, somewhere in the middle of the ocean, aboard the USS John P. Murtha. Morale? Let’s just say it was sinking faster than a leaky dinghy. Sailors were stressed, overworked, and eyeing the horizon for the next “loss of confidence” firing. Enter our fearless leader, Capt. Gervy Alota, with a plan so bold, so Instagrammable, it could only have b...