My Roots in Ecofeminism

Artwork titled "A Pagan Sacrifice" dipicting a black and white painting of a woman
Artwork titled “A Pagan Sacrifice”

By Chloe Rigg

“I know I am made from this earth, as my mother’s hands were made from this earth, as her dreams came from this earth and all that I know, I know in this earth…all that I know speaks to me through this earth and I long to tell you, you who are earth too, and listen as we speak to each other of what we know: the light is in us.” -Susan Griffin

“Mother Earth.”

I’m sure everyone has heard this term at some point in their life. It’s usually associated with the “peace and love” hippie type. Most people might not know that this term was brought into popularity by the first ecofeminist movements of the 60’s and 70’s. I would like to start out by explaining my connection with ecofeminism, considering it is a rather spiritual movement for some. I am the hippie type most people think of when coming across terms like Mother Earth. I love tie dye, and kombucha is like 70% of my bodily fluids. I haven’t worn a bra consistently for around two and a half years, and my life ambitions include owning a completely sustainable farm.

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Stressed Out? Keep Reading!

By Lauren Anthony

emoticon_stressballs_by_super_ninja_poo-d3jyhrnEvery now and then, there comes a day when the best part about it is going to bed. We all have these kinds of days and sometimes we’re not even sure why a sunshine day became a downpour of frustrations. Fear not! You’re not the only one. I had one of these particularly rainy days last Wednesday.

Where do I even begin? My laptop was not working and I was not sure if I was going to have a working laptop by the end of the week. The weather outside was rainy and not so pleasant, which made the walk to class a hassle. In between classes I was on the phone with my brother and IT services on campus talking about my laptop. I would have to take it to a local repair shop. So, I went on the long journey in the rain to the apple store with my laptop and walked back to my dorm. My jacket was soaked, my jeans were soaked, and my sneakers were soaked. Could this day go anymore wrong? By the time I had returned home all soaked I did not want to do anything else, I only wanted to crawl into my bed and go to sleep.

Continue reading “Stressed Out? Keep Reading!”