A Lesson of Prioritizing

By: Vivian Pham, Staff Writer

It was a week prior to my dorm move-in. I was sitting on the floor, surrounded by moving boxes and my possessions scattered across the room. The process of sorting the things to bring for college and the things to donate was probably one of the most painful processes I’ve been through. Everything mattered, at least in my defense. I had no intention in giving away anything, even the decor I’ve been trying to hold onto since middle school. To me, each object linked to a memory or experience that I didn’t have the heart to throw away. So with that in mind, I threw everything that I wouldn’t bring with me to college into several boxes and stacked them up in my closet, ignoring my mom’s complaint and threats that she’d get rid of them sooner or later.

Last summer, I visited home for the first time since moving into my college dorm. As I opened the closet, a few boxes fell off the stack, instantly bringing me back to the previous fall. I quickly unpacked the boxes and thought to myself, “What on earth am I trying to hold onto?” All the little decors, the exam papers from high school, the notebooks, the friendship bracelet from someone I hadn’t seen for ages, etc. All the things that I once claimed as my prized possessions, suddenly turned into a junk of useless garbage. Maybe it was because I no longer feel connected to these objects, maybe because I’ve been constantly moving from place to place that I now only possess fewer and more useful things that I actually use daily, or maybe because of both reasons. I’m not sure.

If there’s only one thing that I learn from all of this, it would surely be the lesson of priority. When I moved into the dorm, my whole life was packed up in two 50lb-checked-bags, a carry-on suitcase, and a backpack. No more, no less. Life is just like these moving processes. There are so many things, so many events happen in the course of 24 hours, but there are only a few that will go with you for the rest of your life. I slowly learned, through these moving processes, what I need to do in a day that’s worth my effort and attention, who I should be caring for, and most importantly, which stuff I should keep or throw away.

Culture Shocked by my Own Culture

By: Vivian Pham, Staff Writer

The chaotic sounds of traffic on a Monday morning, the impatient scooter honks of office workers who was running late, the warm offering voice of the street vendors, etc. all blending in perfectly like a harmonic symphony, vividly engraved in my mind just like how I imagined what a morning in Hanoi would be like. There’s just something incredible about Hanoi and its constant modernization while simultaneously retaining the antiqueness of a long-historical capital of Vietnam. 

It was my first-time visiting Hanoi. I arrived in Hanoi on a humid summer afternoon, almost fainted from the heat and the packed crowd of people in the airport. I quickly made my way out of the airport and got on a cab, heading towards Hanoi’s downtown, where my hotel was located. It was a quick but interesting ride from the airport to the hotel. The closer I got to downtown, the more people I saw, even though it was a Monday. I saw street vendors full of people circling around, patiently waiting for their orders. An insane amount of little plastic stools scattered across what seemed to be the pavement (I barely recognized the pavement since it was extremely narrow). 

Even though I’ve lived in Vietnam for most of my life and knew what things would be like, I couldn’t help but think how astonishingly different things have been in the span of three years (I couldn’t get back to Vietnam for 3 years because of COVID). For instance, while I was hanging out with my friends, we suddenly decided to go to the lakeshore and have a picnic there. Since it was a spontaneous decision, I wondered how we could get any picnic stuff like a picnic mat or snacks/food. To my surprise, my friends took me to a nearby rental store where you can get any gear you need. It was so convenient, and everything was even automatic and self-served, so there wasn’t any staff in the store except for a security guy. Right next to the rental shop was a convenience store, which sold a wide variety of snacks and food. The store even had a section just for instant noodles. After stopping by literally two stores within 15 minutes, we’d had everything we needed for the picnic. 

It also amazed me how the culture in the South differs from the North. I was born and raised in the South, so it was quite an experience for me to visit Hanoi and nearby Northern cities. One time when I was ordering food from a street vendor, it took me a solid minute to explain what a spoon was because apparently there’s a difference for “spoon” in the North. Or when I had Phở, I asked for a small bowl, and they gave me a big bowl because they were confused with me using a different word for “bowl”. Another Northern culture I thought was interesting and also quite controversial was the hierarchical order of a party. Apparently, in a party, the elders (usually the men) would sit in the big table, also known as the upper table, while children and others (usually the women) would sit in a smaller table, also known as the lower table. Obviously, the upper table would get better and more food than the lower table, and they also get served while the lower table had to serve themself. I did a little research into this, and I found out that it resulted from a long history of hierarchy and favoring male over female. This mindset dates back to the monarchical period and still exists in the majority of Northern extended families.

I found it quite fun and fascinating to be shocked by my own culture, something that I thought I would know best since I grew up within it. This trip has taught me a great deal of knowledge and definitely changed my mind set on how important one’s culture and roots are. With that being said, I encourage you to learn more about your own roots and background, and you’re sure to be amazed at how incredible it is.

The Middle Class’s Enigma: RTD Denver

By: Sandra Vo, Staff Writer

A moth flutters violently against the glass of the lamppost up above, casting its shadow on the sidewalk in front of my feet. Although the time on my phone flashes just shy of 6 o’clock, the sun has long since sent its last farewell rays against the horizon. Snow is normally a gentle feeling, a delicate caress of snowflakes against my cheeks, but tonight, each flake stings my bare hands and burns the tips of my fingers, searing them a bright red.

Even with the daylight becoming a faraway memory with each passing minute, the city remains bustling and lively. Cars sweep past me in throngs, timed succinctly by the stoplight just a few steps down the street. Their headlights illuminate the streets for a couple seconds at a time, like a wildly mismanaged spotlight. In the distance, I can hear threads of Bon Jovi leaking out of the cafe behind me every time the cafe doors fling open. 

I’m not alone in my spot outside however. Around me, a handful of people shuffle around in their spots, trying desperately to fend off the Colorado winter with their respective coats and scarves. One person dons a pair of leather gloves, and I steal an envious glance at them as I warm my hands with the heat of my breath. 

The people here vary in age, gender, and clothing, but we share one thing in common; we are all anchored by the single sign stuck into the grass median that barricades the sidewalk from the street. This bright red sign, covered in various stickers and explicit graffiti, is the only indication that the city of Denver has designated this area as one of the RTD (Regional Transportation District) bus stops.

I check my phone. It’s now 6:05, and if Google Maps has predicted correctly, my bus will arrive in approximately ten minutes. In ten minutes, I could have made the journey back from here to my bedroom by car, but I shove the thought away, knowing that this will only make the wait in the cold worse. 

A cold gust of wind brushes by, and I flinch at how mercilessly it bites at my skin. This is one of the many bus stops scattered throughout Denver without a bus shelter, and while the city designer has tolerated the addition of a bench here, it does nothing to protect us from the frosty Colorado air. The rush of cars on the street feels a little more mocking when I picture how nice it would be to be in a space with an operating heater.

Denver is a city of commuters, and this statement is a cold, daunting reality to the Denver residents without the means of independent transportation. 

But how do you fix this? There is no simple solution to this, especially when it involves both infrastructural and cultural change. To create better public transportation, you need better infrastructure that facilitates the usage of buses and light rails, but for better infrastructure, you need money. And when a city needs to obtain money, they need to reallocate their budget and divert tax dollars away from another project. Colorado’s biggest taxpayers? The middle class.

Now this becomes the issue: few people find pleasure in knowing that they’re paying for a program that doesn’t benefit them. This raises yet another question. If the RTD is public transportation, then why isn’t it being utilized by the general public?

This question has a fairly simple answer. RTD Denver has a rather unfortunate image of being late, slow, dirty, confusing, and unsafe. Worse still, some of these adjectives are true. The shortage of bus drivers means that some routes remain poorly staffed, and bus wait times are long and far between. This results in people being willing to pay the increasingly absurd parking rates in Denver or take an Uber/similar rideshare, despite the prices of Ubers having increased by 92% between 2018 and 2021 according to Rakuten. 

However, it’s worth noting that Denver has been trying to improve the RTD experience. In August of 2022, Denver implemented the “Free Fare Month,” in which everybody could board and ride the RTD free of charge, in hopes of facilitating more rider usage. The RTD completed its 15L Improvement Project in October of 2021, which added bus shelters, security cameras, lighting, and benches to the stops along East Colfax Avenue. Right now, the RTD is working on adding another fleet of electric buses to its arsenal in 2023 after the Federal Transit Administration and the VW Settlement Program awarded the RTD $2.6 million and $8.5 million respectively. More information on these projects and other upcoming improvement projects can be found on the RTD website (rtd-denver.com). 

Most importantly though, the funding for these kinds of projects rides on the shoulders of the people. The more that the residents of Colorado demonstrate their support for public transportation, the more willing the government will be to allocate money for a better public transit experience. This simple act of demonstrating the willingness to ride the Denver RTD by everyday commuters could transform the experience of people who already need the RTD to survive. 

The longer that RTD Denver remains the middle class’s enigma, the longer that this city will fail its residents that rely on public transportation to go about their everyday lives.

ESAs vs. Service Animals: Are Emotional Support Animals Devaluing the Work of Certified Service Animals?

By: Austin Price, Staff Writer

I am sure all of us animal-lovers wished our pets could be with us 24/7 at some point in our lives. Perhaps it was because we were lonely or were feeling homesick. Maybe it was due to undiagnosed anxiety, and symptoms of depression. Or maybe we simply loved our pets as if they were our children and wanted them to be with us. But, in the back of our minds, we begrudgingly accepted that this was an unrealistic expectation of our pets, and a misinterpretation of the comfort of those around us. We understood that keeping an animal with us was inconvenient and a lot of work. However, we still secretly wished we could keep our pets with us, no questions asked. Well now, we can. 

The National Service Animal Registry is a for-profit organization that allows pet owners to register their pets, no matter the animal, as certified Emotional Support Animals. Due to the crippling stigma around mental health, Emotional Support Animals were originally undermined if not dismissed entirely. In generations past, physical illnesses were seen as more severe and debilitating than mental illnesses. However, Generation Z has challenged this theory using social media platforms to recognize their own mental illnesses, and advocate for accessible mental health services. 

In 2011, the National Service Animal Registry reported 2,400 emotional support animals in its registry. As of 2019, it reports over 200,000 animals registered. In the fight for mental health awareness, Generation Z has brought the validity of emotional support animals and their benefits to the forefront of discussion. However, critics argue that emotional support animals devalue the status of certified service animals and believe that such easy access to ESA certification leads to pet owners taking advantage of this process and using certification as an excuse to keep their animals with them in all situations. 

Officially, an emotional support animal is defined as an animal that provides relief to individuals with psychiatric disability through companionship. ESAs can be an animal of any kind, and do not require any specific training or receive an official certification that verifies their abilities. Qualifying for an emotional support animal requires a person to have a diagnosed emotional, mental, or psychological condition, such as anxiety, depression, panic disorders, post-traumatic stress disorder, bipolar disorder, mood disorder, or other paranoias. ESA owners are typically asked to possess a doctor-provided ESA letter as documentation. Only a licensed professional can provide you with an official “prescription” for an emotional support animal, but the process is easily accessible and reasonably inexpensive with most ESA letters priced at around $100 to $200. 

In comparison, certified service animals are defined as a dog that is individually trained to perform tasks or do work for the benefit of a person with a physical or mental disability. In some circumstances, a miniature horse who is individually trained also qualifies as a service animal. A service animal may be paired with a person with visual impairment, seizure disorder, hearing loss, mobility challenges, diabetes, and other conditions. Service dogs participate in strict training that enables them to help their owners function daily, including completing tasks and alerting them to potential oncoming emotional or physical episodes. To be considered a service animal, training and certification must be achieved. This training ensures that they can serve the medical needs of their owner on a consistent basis. 

The main difference between ESAs and certified service animals is their level of recognition in the Americans with Disabilities Act or, the ADA. The ADA is a law that prevents any form of discrimination against disabled persons in various aspects of public life, including education, transportation, employment, and housing. The ADA makes provisions for certified service dogs, allowing them in public places, but because emotional support animals are categorized separately from service animals, they are not granted the same level of coverage. However, ESAs are covered by The Fair Housing Act which requires property owners and landlords to make a fair attempt to allow ESAs, regardless of “no pet” policies, as well as possible protection from pet rent and other additional housing charges because the law makes a clear distinction from regular “pets” and ESAs.  

Due to the surge in registered ESAs, certified service animals are often discredited and underappreciated. For example, the Air Carrier Access Act is a law that gives airlines wide latitude over how various creatures are handled in the aircraft, and until January of 2021, it allowed ESAs to accompany their owners in the aircraft cabin. However, due to public incidents involving ESAs bothering fellow passengers, airlines such as United Airlines and Delta Air Lines have banned ESAs from traveling in the aircraft cabin and instead requiring them to travel in the cargo hold, where luggage and freight is packed.

 In the United States, service dogs were not legally recognized until the ADA was passed in 1990. The ADA defines a service dog as any guide dog, signal dog or other animals individually trained to aid a person with a disability. Because of the long overdue passing of this law, service dogs have earned the right to be considered mandatory companions for their owners with their specific disabilities correlating with their dogs specific training. Service dogs require more funding and support than ESAs because of the varying needs their owners have. To a lot of service dog owners, ESAs are a way to cheat the system. However, ESA supporters advocate for their rights and their desire to keep their animals with them whenever they deem necessary.

This is a complex argument. When a person suffers a seizure, they need immediate medical attention, which in some cases, can be provided by a trained service dog. However, the same could be said for someone suffering a crippling anxiety attack or a manic episode due to a mental health crisis. They may need immediate attention and support from their ESA as well. Many questions are raised in the debate over ESA rights and service animal requirements. Why should those with personal ailments be discredited based on an internal, mental illness? How are physical illnesses recognized as more important, or more deadly? Why has the stigma of mental illness carried on into the justification of the need for ESAs and why are they not given the same rights that certified service animals are? Should ESAs be required to receive the same level of training as certified service animals in order to be covered by law and protected by the ADA? 

Personally, I believe in the validity of ESAs. As someone who struggles with mental illnesses myself, I understand how powerful the presence of a trusted and beloved companion can be. I recognize that both mental illnesses and physical illnesses are their own entity, and should be valued equally, despite what part of the person they impact. I see the need for support from animals and how emotionally impactful they can be on humans. 

However, I also see why advocates for certified service animals are against ESAs. I think that the bias of ESAs and the belief that they are cheating the system is due to the easy access to ESA certification. As a result of the magic of the internet, ESAs can be certified by a pet owner without ever showing the company the animal. I do not think ESAs should be granted certification with such little restrictions and with little to no actual connection between the pet owners and the companies providing ESA certification. I also think that ESAs should be required to complete a small amount of basic training, making them behaved, pleasant creatures to be around. ESAs should have enough manners and discipline that they do not negatively impact those around them, giving them more access to more public places and improving the situation for the owner, the animal, and the audience around them.