The Lowest Golden Apple: Part 3


This is the third and final part to the short story. Again, this story is told in reverse.  

July 22

The boning of her bag released from the wear and tear of the days spent wandering through the baked goods at the farmer’s market. Rich sauces and jellies rest at the bottom. The sides are still damp from the apricot chutney that spilt out the week before. She pushes the items aside and leans into a nearby bench in a park. She had bought honey comb and free-range eggs from a farmer who throws in a cluster of honey suckle for her each Wednesday. They always banter about reality television and their lack of interest in politics.

Continue reading “The Lowest Golden Apple: Part 3”

The Lowest Golden Apple: Part 2


This is the second part to the short story, and the ending will be unveiled tomorrow. The order of the story is still a backwards timeline.

September 8

She asks the class to simmer down as the students fumble around for desks in the heat of the first day. The pencils and books clamor with backpacks lining the back wall. One boy files in with a worn pot fostering a full calendula stretching higher than the accompanying lamp on her desk. He hurriedly runs to his desk before she has time to thank him, and she soaks in the smells whilst gingerly rubbing the petals over with her fingers.

Continue reading “The Lowest Golden Apple: Part 2”

The Lowest Golden Apple: Part 1


This story is the first part to a series that will be revealed each day, for the next three. The story’s chronology moves backwards, and please return tomorrow for what happens next.

November 16 

She dressed the brimming apples with buttery lattice-works and cinnamon. Her thumbs smoothed the dough into the edges of the pan as she cooled her breathing. Her lip quivered when she rounded the edges and waited for the other baked goods to finish in the oven.

Continue reading “The Lowest Golden Apple: Part 1”

My Mother, My Feminist Hero

By Stephanie Sampson


As my blogging experience comes to an end here at the University of Idaho Women’s Center, I can’t help but ask myself when I became a feminist. When I started this internship, I wanted to gain experience blogging as well as meet strong, motivational women. But throughout this process I have learned more than just tips on blogging.

I have always had feminist thoughts and tendencies, but before this experience I didn’t exactly know what they were or where they came from. I didn’t exactly know how passionate I was about women’s issues or what I could do to about it. I have now met a handful of independent, driven, smart, and motivational feminists and I am truly thankful. One of the women in my life that pushed me to this experience is my mother, Christine.

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Stripping Down Everything: An Australian Actress’s Hollywood Experience

By Lauren Anthony


Loving everything about ourselves, even the imperfections, can be a challenge. Society pushes an ideal standard on women making it well known what is considered beautiful and socially acceptable and what is not.

Especially in Hollywood, women need to meet strict standards of beauty. Caitlin Stasey, an Australian actress, shared her story of what it means to be a “pretty girl” in Hollywood and what she’s done to empower herself and other women.

Movements that encourage women to love their body and other imperfections are one way to break the standard of beauty.

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Surprise! Emotions are not a diagnosis for a woman’s pain

By Stephanie Sampson


Over the years, I have experienced pain. I have experienced physical pain when I was a waitress and when I had other tedious, labor intensive jobs. I have experienced emotional pain when I lost my grandfather this past January. These times I have confided in my friends, family and my doctor in order to find some relief by talking to someone.

It is a common misconception in this country that women who come into a health facility exaggerate their amount of pain.

This misconception has led to many misdiagnoses and for some it has altered their lives drastically.

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The Dreaded C-Word

I was 14 and thought that SNL was the peak of comedy, especially during presidential races. Although I was an avid McCain supporter at the time, I couldn’t help but laugh at the Palin skits. Everyone was raving about them and I had to be a part of the fun. Sarah_Palin_by_Gage_Skidmore_2.jpg
My mother, however, was not so amused. She tsked and snorted at every joke lobbed Palin’s way that challenged her intelligence and credibility. “I can’t stand how awful everyone is to her.” She finally complained.
“Did you see the t-shirts that were made about her?” My father asked.
“No, why?”
He sighed and said, “On the radio, they were talking about how a bunch of liberals are now wearing t-shirts that say ‘Sarah Palin is a
c-word… CONSERVATIVE.’”.

My mom gasped and shook her head. “Wow. Real nice.”
“I don’t get it.” I chimed in. “What are they actually referring to?”
Before my dad could respond, my mom snapped, “It’s one of the worst things you can call a woman.”
I was shocked. “Really? What is it?”
“I don’t even like saying it. No one should ever be called it.”
My dad finally pulled me to the side and informed me of the dreaded word. And I held very tightly to the idea that it was a word that should never be spoken.

I’m not really sure what made me change my mind within the past year or so—maybe it was exposure to it in music and writing. Maybe it was during a senior thesis about how quickly language changes and the power and influence that comes with these changes. Or maybe it was my gender communication courses that made me question why the nastiest insults are directed towards women.


What is it about that word that brings me (and many others) so much satisfaction, yet is still one of the most taboo words of today.
Continue reading “The Dreaded C-Word”