Photo by the author.

Members of the Secular Humanists for Inquiry & Freethought brought the Darwin fish to the Rock Thursday. SHIFT is a newly founded student group that advocates “religious freedom and freedom from religion.”

They claim to love bacon, the numbers four and nine, and know that the answer to the trivia questions during games is always “C.” Their behavior borders on cultish but has the air of a friendship woven through and through with the thread of a common commitment. The fact that they spend the majority of their time playing instruments and wearing purple seems to be beside the point. And although they don’t come right out and say it, it’s clear that whatever it is they’re actually doing, they’re not doing it only for themselves.

The Northwestern University Marching Band is more than just a “band.” It’s a piece of university history — an artifact that evolves with each football season, no matter how good or bad the ‘Cats prove to be. And at the center of the group are two students, filled to the brim with school spirit and knowledge of all things Northwestern. They are the “SpiriTeam” (and yes, it’s with one “t”) – Juniors Jed Feder and Zack Moy as the “Spirit leader” and “Grynder” respectively.

“Hear Ye, Hear Ye. This band’s in session.”

It’s the opening cry that brings the band to order in Trienens Hall. And delivered by Feder, it’s also what sets the tone for the “spirit session” — a pep rally for the band, by the band — which follows.

Since the creation of the roles that now make up the SpiriTeam in the 1960s, the “Here Ye” has been an important responsibility of the Spirit Leader. It began as a way to introduce band personnel and instrumental sections to the opposing team’s band. Over time it has become increasingly dependent on the creativity of the current Spirit Leader. With Feder, it’s a forum for social commentary, inside jokes and other humorous anecdotes.

“The great thing about Jed is that he’s a really good performer,” says Moy. “His lines are really great too but his delivery makes the performance for him, no matter what.”

Pete Friedmann has had a front seat in the role’s transition. Friedmann spent the fall of 1978, his senior year, as the Spirit Leader. He returned to Northwestern two years after graduating and has been the band’s announcer ever since. Despite the growing complexity of the role he once had, he has enjoyed watching it change.

“It’s been a gradual and very natural evolution and just a lot of fun to be a fly on the wall and watch it happen,” he says.

Friedmann often attends the “spirit sessions” and knows first-hand the amount of work Feder and Moy put into their roles. After all, he was once in their shoes making up cheers, rewriting opponents’ fight songs, and giving his own “Here Ye” all in the name of, as he says, “getting the band psyched up.”

“These guys are great,” he said. “I think they’re under a lot of pressure because every year, every spirit team … wants to outdo what the previous spirit team did.”

But can they Growl?

Zack Moy. Photo courtesy of Tom McGrath.

Together the two bookend the session, Feder with his “Here Ye” and Moy with what in band lore is known as “The Grynd” — a two or so minute slam poetry reading that also invokes the upcoming game and jokes pertaining to the band.

From the start, Moy knew that he wanted to be the Grynder. Unlike the Spirit Leader, which requires an audition process, this position is passed down. As a sophomore, Moy asked the Grynder, then a senior, what he would need to do to secure his spot. Although he knew that the position had a history of staying within his instrumental section, the mellophones, he felt that would make things too easy. He wanted to deserve the position.

“I basically did as many spirited, crazy, ridiculous things as I possibly could. Whether it was the most extreme dress-up day or just being really quirky and loud and like being a presence in the band during rehearsals,” says Moy.

Moy eventually got the position and quickly went to work.

If it’s Feder that gets the group laughing, it’s Moy that gets them, well, growling. At the end of every Grynd, the Grynder asks for a little help. He starts off asking, “Wildcat Band, can you growl?” They do, but not loud enough to satisfy him. There’s a woman on his mind and she must hear it too. “That was pretty good,” he’ll say. “But there’s one person who couldn’t hear you, it was my mother.” The two groups banter back and forth a little more before Moy’s final call, “She couldn’t hear you, so Wildcat band, can you growl?”

And they growl, in the fashion of the “claw” done at football games. This satisfies Moy and the session ends with a performance by the drum line.

How do you like your Badger meat?

But their respective roles in the spirit sessions are only a small part of their leadership within the band. From standing on the ladders in front of the band during football games to preparing “spirit sheets” complete with jokes and football team reviews for the rest of the band to leading specific cheers, the roles are both a symbolic honor and a time consuming task.

It all converges into one idea: P & G, or “pride and guts.”

“It’s one of our mantras,” says Moy, “meaning pride in the school and the football team, [and] guts as [in] you will do everything perfect for the team.”

This means hitting the right notes, marching in the right step and being the loudest and proudest Wildcat supporters in the stands. Aside from leading the post-touchdown fight song both Moy and Feder have their own cheers or chants that they lead with band with.

“Even if it’s like for 20 seconds, we’re doing some dumb cheer,” says Moy.

Listen hard enough on Saturday and you might hear something like this: “Badger meat! Badger meat! How do we like it? How do we like it? Raw! Raw! Raw!”

Mark Woodsum, a 5th year member of the Wildcat football team, understands the band’s commitment in their support of the ‘Cats. He is often a guest at the spirit sessions, keeping up the recent practice by members of the football team.

“They’re great guys,” he says of Feder and Moy. “They’ve obviously got a lot of passion not only for Northwestern, the band and football but they generate and incredible amount of time.”

“The greatest band in the whole damn land”

And just as their commitment is recognized outside the band, neither does it go unnoticed within.

In his tenth year as the band’s director, Dan Farris has experienced the efforts of a number of different spirit teams.

“It’s an interesting history and what it’s kind of evolved to,” he says. “When I first came here, I was like ‘who are these people and what are they doing?’”

He quickly found out. Now, it’s not the band without them. Although this is the first year in their role for both of them, Farris is impressed with their leadership ability.

“I think it’s a really unique team and this is essential to bring spirit and unity to the band in the stands and during rehearsals … ” he says.

While Feder, Moy and the rest of the Wildcat marching band don’t seem to have any trouble generating school spirit, they keep their sessions closed to non-members.

“I suppose if tons of students were like ‘we want to see this’ then Jed and I might do things a little differently, I don’t know,” Moy says. “But the thing is you’ll think we’re a cult. And in some aspects we are.”

So maybe they are a little selfish. Still, you can’t deny that their blood runs purple.

“You can join it for any reason,” he said. “Everyone’s different in there, but everyone’s also the same [in] that they just love that organization for what it does for the school and the community.”

He continues, “the fact [is] that we are the best fans for the Northwestern football team and for Northwestern in general.”

As Feder notes at the conclusion of his “Hear Ye,” they just might be “the greatest band in the whole damn land.”

Kevin Smith, Bienen sophomore, seems absolutely terrified. He should be. Photo by Katie Tang / North by Northwestern.

Friday is “Kick a Ginger Day”. Naturally, as a ginger myself, I’m scared. I received the Facebook event notification earlier this week. I didn’t know the person who invited me; she had sent the invite to everyone on her friend list, which isn’t a surprise. Hatred of redheads seems to be a growing fad, and while it is, historically speaking, nothing new, the origin of this particular upswing in ginger-bashing can be precisely traced to a single TV show.

The “Ginger Kids” episode of South Park, which first aired in 2005, brought with it a slew of fresh redhead stereotypes for a generation that had never even heard the term “ginger” before. And while the episode is extremely funny, the campaign against redheads which it spawned is anything but. You’ve probably heard the gingerists’ mantras by now. Gingers are hideous. Gingers can’t go out in the sunlight. Gingers have no souls. We’re basically like vampires without the fangs or the Edward Cullen sex appeal. And even though, after being transformed into a befreckled redhead, the already soul-less Eric Cartman sees the error in his gingerphobic ways, this lessen has been lost on viewers. In a culture where ethnic humor is taboo and racist or sexist jokes end in campus-wide discussions, gingers have become the comedic target du jour.

I have been reeling from all the extra attention. Before college, my hair never provoked anything worse than curiosity (unless you consider “Ron Weasley” an insult). I even received regular compliments from hairstylists and old people. I tried my best to dispel the “redheads are going extinct” rumor (insulting as both a redhead and a bio major), and I lamented when redhead celebrities like Lindsay Lohan fell victim to Hollywood’s obsession with dyed blonde hair. Life was simpler before South Park.

Then, as the years following the “Ginger Kids” episode passed, the jokes started to pick up. Friends would ask me if I was a day walker. Drunken passerbys accused me of lacking a soul. On mischief night, I got hit by an egg as someone in a passing car shouted “Gingers suck!” I wasn’t really surprised by the negative attention; I always knew I was different, and I was almost surprised it took so long. I just figured the whole fad would blow over in a couple years.

It hasn’t. In fact, my roommates have started calling me “ginge” on a daily basis. They complain about “maximum redhead capacity” when I bring red-haired friends over. Even a fellow redhead roommate has turned to the dark side: his staple comeback is to call me a dirty ginger, his self-hating ways necessary to survive in a gingerphobic house. They’re just joking, they tell me, and to be honest, I believe them. But what about the person who started the “Kick a Ginger Day” Facebook event? Or the thousands who intend to “attend?” I can’t be certain about anyone. Who can tell when a series of harmless jokes, unchecked by media attention, historical context or community support groups, will become an all-out, Cartman-style crusade against redheads? How do I know my shins are safe?

Despite this slippery slope, there may be a bright future for redheads. In my conversations with fellow “gingers” this year, I’ve felt a real sense of solidarity. We know that we have to stick together in this scary world. Others have reached out to help. A thoughtful individual has renamed Friday “International Hug a Ginger Day” to compete with its kicking cousin (which has since been removed from Facebook), and I intend to celebrate this more peaceful alternative. If you want, I promise to accept your hugs with open arms.

Granted, I was expecting the whole “soup and a sermon” bit. I had read about the pair and the corporation they raised, quite literally, from an abandoned gas station in Burlington, Vermont in 1978. I knew that social activism and anti-war rhetoric was simply a part of their brand. And, frankly, I knew that I liked their ice cream enough to sit and listen to them talk for an hour.

Though I came with limited expectations (other than some good Chunky Monkey) and I disagreed with some of their logic, Ben and Jerry broadened my horizons and satisfied my sweet tooth.

Jerry began, and discussed the brand’s history and its rise into the fast-paced, mass-producing corporate world. He and Ben met in gym class in grade school and ended up starting a little ice cream shop because, as he put it, “We were failing at everything we tried to do.”

He defended the brand’s sale in 2000 to distributor Unilever as being a necessary evil, something that conflicted with their original mission yet was necessary to remain competitive and continue its growth.

“They have a very good sense of humor,” he joked of Unilever. “On the same day they bought Ben & Jerry’s they also bought Slim-Fast.”

The more he revealed about the rise of Ben & Jerry’s, the more it was clear that humor was not only a part of the quest, but was also responsible for the company’s success.

When the young brand was threatened by the larger Pillsbury Corporation that warned its distributors against carrying Ben & Jerry’s on the same trucks as competitor Häagen-Dazs, the two looked to grassroots methods of protest to regain their foothold. They launched their, “What’s the Doughboy Afraid Of?” campaign aimed at the consumer via advertisements, bumper stickers, T-shirts and even a spot on their own pint packaging.

Although their campaign was a success, they began to question their role as businessmen. But they needed money and sought to provide stock options to Vermont residents rather than accept offers from venture capitalists. They were staying true to their founding values.

This wasn’t enough. They wanted to be different from other corporations, he said, in that they would value social responsibility just as much as they did their profit margin. After some fine-tuning of this new, dual bottom-line, the team was able to “integrate” its social and environmental concerns in a way that would not only maximize sales but also prove that a corporation could commit itself to social responsibility. Plus, it would make for a kick-ass, albeit highly criticized, marketing program.

“We are all interconnected,” Jerry said. “And as we help others we can’t help but to be helped in return.” That meant giving 7.5 percent of the company’s pre-tax profits to social causes, which makes them a top charitable donor among public companies.

Jerry’s delivery showed he had clearly given this speech before. As did Ben, who spoke next. Rather than expand on the history and company philosophy as Jerry had, Ben used all-too-familiar liberal rhetoric.

In short, Ben criticized the large percentage of the federal budget allocated for defense spending. To him and his team of political advisers, the budget is reflective of Cold War-era initiatives. Rather than spend this money on national defense, he said, it could be spent much more effectively on social programming.

Ben & Jerry take out the Oreos. Photo by the author.

Ben and Jerry are children of the Great Society, something Jerry hinted at when mentioning the pair’s reluctance to take on the roles of profit-driven business leaders.

To illustrate this, Ben brought out Oreo cookies. Stacking them up to represent the breakdown of the federal budget, it was clear the extent to which the allocation was skewed. Yes, the United States spends a fortune (68 Oreos worth, that is) on keeping our arsenals stocked and up to date. But that’s not to say world hunger, community development or human services aren’t on the government’s list. Their political advising team says that six of these 68 Oreos aren’t necessary, so Ben “redistributed” them to areas of interest to the company’s mission of social responsibility.

“We are the world’s only superpower,” Ben said, illustrating that our defense budget is bloated and disproportionate to our needs.

With about half of the federal budget funneled into the Pentagon, Ben recommended campaign finance reform. Fair enough. As he sees it, the support the defense industry gives to candidates is directly responsible for the leaning tower of Oreos on the stage table.

Their logic may be skewed, but there is no arguing that Ben and Jerry’s business plan will continue pushing them forward. Read more into their history and you’ll see that capitalism was the key to their early success. Listen to them speak and you’ll see that the “dual bottom line” is what they want to drive the company forward.

Hello devoted readers! Many of you have submitted questions concerning the Thanksgiving holidays, the most patriotic of all holidays since Independence Day. Here are some of the most frequently asked questions I have received:

Dear Sir or Madam,

Ryan A. Penrod

Dear Ryan A. Penrod,

Whenever I go anywhere, I bring only the clothes on my back, and whatever I can fit into my stick and bindle, which includes (but is not limited to) my harmonica, straw hat, vampire repellant anti-zombie shotgun and my Zune (because iPods are for chumps). And if you’re a true patriot like I am, then you eschew regulation and listen to your music before takeoff, and during landing. So what if I mess with the signal? I’m guessing that “Go Go Power Rangers” is better listening than proper landing coordinates.

Bottom line: Packing is easy, just bring the essentials. And besides, when I ran out of clothes the last time I went home for the holidays, I just showed up to Thanksgiving dinner naked. Show off your hot bod for the family!

Dear Sir or Madam,

Ryan A. Penrod

Dear Ryan A. Penrod,

Getting to the airport can be quite a hassle, especially if you’re going to O’Hare. Doing this without blowing a lot of cash is key. There’s always the El and other trains if you’re feeling cheap, but it’s a huge time suck, and the last time I was on the El, I got mugged by a crazy man claiming to be Bozo the Clown. This I know to be untrue, as the real Bozo has manic-depressive disorder and spends most of his free time creating macramé of the ways he can end his pathetic existence. There are also taxis, but they tend to smell, and if you’re a backseat driver like I am, then you could end up stranded halfway to your destination with only the things you have in your pockets. But I tend not to like either of those options. The best way I find to get to the airport involves a little bit of creativity and a nightstick. Yes, I am talking about hijacking cars. But I don’t like to call it hijacking. It’s more like borrowing because you need it more than the current driver. Just tell the driver where you’re going and give him some cash as recompense. I’m sure the driver will understand; the holidays are stressful on everyone.

Dear Sir or Madam,

Ryan A. Penrod

Dear Ryan A. Penrod,

You have just been living in a small room with another person for three months, so you should know how to deal with this. The difference here is that this is YOUR room, and you need to assert your status as dominant male in the room (or female, if you’re a girl). Mark your territory and make sure the hobo knows what’s what. You could go the dog route, and piss all over the place, but that’s not exactly sanitary, so I prefer stakes with torches on the end. Also, you’ll probably have to do some cleaning, and reclaim the bed. Just don’t get intimidated — that’s a sign of weakness, and if you don’t raise your game, you could be sleeping outside in the hobo’s place.

Dear Sir or Madam,

Ryan A. Penrod

Dear Ryan A. Penrod,

Instead of offering a lists of dos, I think it would be better to inform you of things not to do to impress your relatives. For example, although being good at beer pong is really cool at college, showing your Aunt Marian how you can sink the final cup using a macaroon and a wine glass is not proper etiquette at the dinner table. Similarly, teaching your younger cousin Franklin how to properly use a beer funnel might anger some relatives. And although you might think the dinner table needs some energy, starting the Northwestern fight song might be considered rude.

Dear Sir or Madam,

Ryan A. Penrod

Dear Ryan,

No. I cannot help you.

Sincerely,

Sir or Madam.

Photo by the author.

Cast and crew of the Purple Crayon Players’ fall play Holes painted the Rock midnight Wednesday. The adaptation of Louis Sachar’s well-known novel runs Thursday through Saturday at the Shanley Pavilion. Tickets are $5.

Jerred Roggensack, Chika Nwosu and Wade Askew. Photo by Natalie Krebs / North by Northwestern.

Between them, they possess potent love for Beyonce, dreams of learning to breakdance, and a weakness for dropping gs from the end of words. Meet Wade Askew, Chika Nwosu and Jerred Roggensack, DM’s newest emcees. We played 20 questions with them. Note: Roggensack was interviewed separately due to scheduling conflicts.

What is your idea of perfect happiness?

Wade Askew: 30-hour long dance party.

Chika Nwosu: Living in a candy store.

Jerred Roggensack: I see perfect happiness as like being with people that I love. You know what? Dancing with people that I love.

What is your greatest fear?

Chika: Being stuck in an elevator. I don’t like crammed spaces.

Wade: I’ll go with being stuck in a cage of all tarantulas, scorpions and snakes. All at the same time. That’s number one.

Jerred: I’d say to look back at my life at the end and just have a lot of regrets.

Which living person do you most admire?

Chika: Beyonce. She’s a baller.

Wade: Beyonce is a baller. I can’t believe you took Beyonce, what’s left now? I’ll go with Alicia Keys.

Jerred: My roommate, Speedy, who’s in Scotland – he’s a baller. He’s the man.

Which living person do you most despise?

Wade: I’m full of love. But I’d say the Grinch. He stole Christmas, and I’m not down with that.

Chika: Well, I’m gonna have to say Miley. Even though I love her music. She’s supposed to be a sweet little Disney star, and she’s not. But her music’s good. I love “Party in the USA.”

Jerred: I’d probably say the lead singer from Nickelback.

What is your greatest extravagance?

Wade: Gosh, I’m a pretty simple man. You see how I dress, I wear sweatpants and slippers. I’d say free lodging, wherever I can get with my free flights.

Chika: Getting to go backstage and be VIP for any concert. To be able to walk in and just be like, “Hey, Miley Cyrus, what’s up?”

Jerred: My Macbook. It’s my baby.

What is your current state of mind?

Chika: Should I go to my next class?

Wade: I would just say my mind is just a continually bubbly, happy place that is kind of like bunnies prancing through a meadow with blooming flowers everywhere. And I’m just bouncing around in that happy meadow – with the bunnies.

Jerred: I’ve got an Empire State of Mind.

What is the quality you most like in a person of the opposite sex?

Chika: Someone who likes me just the way I am.

Wade: A genuine caring person with a big smile.

Jerred: Someone who’s passionate about helping other people.

Which words or phrases do you most overuse?

Chika: I always say, “You da bomb dot com.” That’s like my tagline.

Wade: I feel like being around Jerred just makes me say things like “homes” and “tight.”

Chika: “Ballin’” – he always says ballin’.

Wade: Jerred really does rub off on you. He’s like a hybrid between California surfer and ghetto language. So mesh those two together and if anything falls in those categories, it’s starting to rub off on me. But I’ll go with “y’all.” That’s my official answer. I’m from Georgia.

Jerred: Oh gosh, you’re gonna get a couple here. “Dude,” “man,” “ballin’,” “homie,” “dawg,” “whatup whatup” – the double. I call my parents “dudes” sometimes. It’s just the weirdest thing. For a while they resisted, but now, they accept it.

Which talent would you most like to have?

Wade: I would love to be able to do back flips and back handsprings on command. That would be ballin’.

Chika: I wish I could be super flexible and be a human pretzel.

Wade: Wait – are superpowers in play here? That changes everything.

Chika: I think to be invisible.

Wade: Flying is kinda cliché, who doesn’t want to fly? I would love to just be smart. To have some intelligence, that would be great.

Jerred: I wish I was an amazing break dancer.

What do you consider your greatest achievement?

Chika: This. Being a DM emcee.

Wade: Yeah, Dance Marathon.

Jerred: I just don’t like looking at stuff I’ve done like achievements. I’d say becoming an Evans Scholar.

If you were to die, what would you want to come back as?

Chika: I already said Beyonce…

Wade: I would probably be the bunnies in my state of mind.

Chika: I think I want to come back as the president.

Jerred: Actually, I’ve had this conversation. But my answer always switches. I would really love to fly. Because of Space Jam, I want to fly like an eagle. So an eagle.

Where would you most like to live?

Wade: Atlanta, Ga.

Chika: Somewhere really warm, like Jamaica.

Wade: I feel like I should do something better than just my hometown. I would probably say the British Virgin Islands.

Chika: Ooh, snazzy.

Jerred: This is tough, I want to live everywhere. I’d say top three are the Canadian Rockies, I’ve heard awesome things about Kenya, and then you gotta Chi-town dude. You gotta say Chi-town. Chi-town’s where it’s at.

What is your most treasured possession?

Wade: Jerred Roggensack.

Chika: I would say my phone. I always lose it, but I really love it.

Jerred: It’s probably my baby. My MacBook.

What is your favorite occupation?

Wade: Choreographer of Beyonce’s music videos.

Chika: Back-up dancer for Beyonce’s music videos.

Wade: Can we both be back-up dancers for “Single Ladies?”

Jerred: Being Bono.

What’s your most marked characteristic?

Chika: I’m always jumping, moving, I can’t sit still.

Wade: I’ll just say upbeat, optimistic. Smiley. That’ll be the official adjective.

Jerred: I’m an extremely positive and energetic person, and on the dance floor, I always look like I just got done swimming in Lake Michigan. (I sweat. A lot.)

Who are your favorite writers?

Wade: I’m illiterate, so…

Chika: I haven’t read a regular book in so long – like not for school…

Jerred: C.S. Lewis, Dostoyevsky and Phillip Yancy.

Which historical figure do you most identify with?

Chika: All I can think of are celebrities that are not historical figures…

Wade: I’ll go with the guy who invented the Harlem Shake.

Jerred: Can I say Will Smith? That dude’s the man. I wish I was more like Will Smith.

What is your greatest regret?

Chika: That I didn’t meet Wade sooner.

Wade: Same.

Jerred: Not starting a band sooner.

How would you like to die?

Wade: Yes, good question. A lot of thought has been put into this.

Chika: I think in my sleep, cause then you can’t feel it.

Wade: I think I would like to be –

Chika: Oh dear.

Wade: I have to be doing something awesome at the time. So at the time of my death, I will be saving a school bus of children while the bus is on fire. And at that point, somebody’s going to try to attack the children, and I will simultaneously disarm them, and catch fire from the flaming school bus while I do, lighting the people who killed the children on fire. So I take them out and save the children. That didn’t make any sense. I need to start over. I would like to die in a ball of flaming glory.

Jerred: Skydiving. That’s gotta be it. Only way to go.

What is your motto?

Wade: Pop, lock and drop it. I don’t even know what that would mean.

Chika: Better light a candle in the curse of darkness.

Jerred: Don’t worry, everything’s gonn be alright. “Gonn’.”

Photo by the author.

Members of Amnesty International’s Northwestern (AINU) chapter painted the Rock for Stop Violence Against Women Week, which runs Monday through Friday. AINU will celebrate Stop Violence Against Women Week with programs including a viewing of a documentary addressing international sex trade and a discussion by women’s rights activist Ahmed Ghasmery on Friday at Norris.

Some students checked their watches in line, anxious to get to their next class. Others felt uncomfortable from the side effects after receiving their vaccine. But most had no strong feelings about the vaccine or the process of receiving it, and said the whole experience was routine.

According to Dr. Donald Misch, Executive Director of University Health Services, roughly 1,750 people were vaccinated on Tuesday. The longest wait was 1 hour 50 minutes at Norris and negligible at Patten, he said.

A few students fainted, which Misch said is not an unusual side effect of the vaccine. An ambulance and fire truck pulled up outside Norris today at around 11:30, according to observers, and Vice President for University Relations Al Cubbage said that they may have been related to the vaccinations, but that he was not sure.

After standing in lines in Norris and Patten, students and others were directed to several tables where they first signed a waiver and then received a vaccine. The vaccines came in two forms: an injection of an inactivated vaccine or a live attenuated intranasal vaccine, a nasal spray that came with more health restrictions than the injection.

Students and others just vaccinated were required to sit in a chair for 15 minutes to ensure no major side effects ensued.

“I hadn’t really heard about the vaccinations,” said Medill junior Bradley Akubuiro, “I just followed a friend to Norris when she was walking here. I feel like getting the vaccine today will not deter me from getting the swine flu.”

Kara McKenzie, a McCormick senior, felt similarly about the vaccine. “I wasn’t planning on getting it, but because of the availability and the apparent high risk factors of H1N1 among young people, I decided to come.”

Despite busy schedules and the reluctance of some students, Cubbage deemed Tuesday successful. “There was a good turnout from students, and we hope that they will continue to get vaccinated until Thursday.”

Updated 11/18: The photo of the vaccination line has been taken down in compliance with the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act of 1996. Thanks to commenter Concerned for making us aware.