To the UC Davis Aggie,

We as University of California, Davis students involved in a range of groups [e.g. MECHA, SCA, SJP, etc.] are deeply disappointed with The Aggie for printing a paid advertisement titled ‘The Palestinians’ Case Against Israel is Based on Genocidal Lies” last week.

We believe that The Aggie is a safe space for students to freely express their opinions. The advertisement was clearly timed to coincide with the Palestine Awareness Week held by the Student for Justice in Palestine. The aim of the advertisement is to outright deny the existence of Palestinians and falsely claim that all “Arabs and Palestinians” want to destroy the Jewish state of Israel. This ad is not only blatantly racist, but also threatening to not just Palestinians, but to all students of color and under-represented groups on the UC Davis campus, by challenging the existence of indigenous peoples and marginalizing groups struggling against racism and colonization.

These groups have been working in alliance as part of the Third World Coalition to oppose militarism, racism and xenophobia. This was seen in the mock wall created by SJP and Movimiento Estudiantil Chican@ de Aztlan to represent the Israeli apartheid wall and the US-Mexico border fence. The ad makes illogical and historically inaccurate claims, and attacks all Arabs, falsely stereotyping them as “genocidal” “aggressors” who want to destroy Israel.

The Freedom Center is a radically racist, sexist and right-wing group and to have such a group be able to print a paid advertisement in The Aggie is an attack on the UC Davis “Principles of Community” and the dignity of our campus. We are glad The Aggie has issued an apology for the printing of this ad and hope that in the future such ads with hate speech agenda will not be printed.

Our vision for a campus is one safe for students to freely express their opinions without being threatened or attacked, and where all faculty, administrators and students utilize their positions to promote these ends.

Third World Coalition

Sikh Cultural Association

Sigma Omega Nu Latina Interest Sorority, Inc.

Students for Justice in Palestine

Student Activists United

Movimiento Estudiantil Chican@ de Aztlan (M.E.Ch.A.)

Pakistani Student Association

Muslim Student Association 

Perhaps it is possible that a person can get high off of a smoky, spicy barbeque sauce that’s glazed over tender beef ribs. It just has to be. Why else would I, along with my housemate, Khoa, decide to venture out to Jackson Rancheria Casino? It couldn’t have just been the allure of “easy” money.

The moment we got back to our apartment after the barbeque lunch in Vacaville, we Googled the shit out of the casino, got directions and mentally readied ourselves for the evening. We figured that we may as well look the part, too, so we dressed like middle-aged goofs – not so much Khoa, but I sure did. I wore an old striped dress shirt tucked into worn khaki pants, beat-up loafers and even a watch to match. Khoa looked more hip with his dark blue shirt hanging untucked.

I’d never been to a casino before, so naturally I was like, “Fuck yeah. I’ll win big and buy dinner for everyone! I’ve played blackjack before! I used to play Texas hold ’em every weekend!” I thought maybe I’d come out big and have a cool story for everyone.

Yes, I’d heard many tales of failed gambling escapades – some from my friends. “Hey, Khoa. Could I borrow your car keys to head to the casino?” asked Richard one slow morning in Las Vegas last autumn. “I’m telling you, man. The odds in blackjack are the best, man.”

Richard would later come back and report losses in the hundreds. “Well, I got free drinks at least,” he said, trying to make it sound better for himself.

But, something told me that my little adventure would unfold differently. It sure as hell did not.

We drove out to Jackson Rancheria Casino just before sunset through the green, hilly countryside out east. Day turned to night, and after about an hour’s worth of driving through windy roads, the Casino came into sight. Parking was tight, but we managed a spot near the top of the parking structure. On our way in, we walked among people who shared our fervor and others who looked absolutely miserable. “That won’t be me,” I thought.

Inside, the atmosphere was overwhelmingly heavy with all sorts of bad. I just wanted to get out of there immediately. Khoa and I went up a flight of stairs to the Texas hold ’em area and discovered that the minimum price to play was $40. Discouraged, I found my way to the blackjack table and cashed in for $20 worth of chips – four five-dollar chips.

Blackjack is simple, right? It sure was. I pushed in a lone chip toward the dealer. “Minimum is $10,” said the dealer cooly.

“Oh my goodness,” I thought to myself and slid another chip in. I’m pretty sure I turned some shade of red. Khoa headed back up to play some poker.

And, just like that, I won my first blackjack hand in a casino. Then, I did it again immediately afterward. I made $40 in the span of less than two minutes.

Now I was playing with gusto. I threw in my two chips like a boss.

“Don’t splash the chips,” said the dealer.

“Fuck you. I’ll splash these TWO damn chips whenever I want,” I thought.

Before I knew it, I lost more than the $40 I had won. Each trip back to the cashier was sadder than the last. The cashier would count out the chips with shaky hands (she’s under surveillance) and smile as though she enjoyed doing what she does (she doesn’t, I’m sure of it). In the end, I lost a total of $60. Luckily, I wasn’t in the mood for losing too much, so I stopped. You win, dealer. You win.

I stopped just in time, too. Khoa came down from the poker tables just as I racked my final loss. He, too, was defeated and lost a bit more than me. “I had to go all in, man,” he said, but I wouldn’t hear it anymore. We left in a jiffy with our tails between our legs.

The conversations during the ride home were laced with F-bombs and “never again”s. How much time did we spend in there? We spent 2 hours of driving for 20 minutes of NO FUN AT ALL.

Back home, I washed my face and lied on the ground in Khoa’s room. “Larry, you look like you just got molested,” Khoa said.

I stayed silent for a little while. Later, I’d be found preaching to my friends, “Casinos are evil! Earn your money honestly!”

This happened in April, and I’m still a bit sore. Losing is never fun and losing happens more often than you think at casinos. Strangely enough, I still get that itch to head back into one and rob it blind. Fat chance. 

LARRY HINH thanks you for lending your eyes and reading the gibberish he puts out every week. Want more gibberish? Get some at lthinh@ucdavis.edu. It’s been a pleasant quarter, folks.

I’ve always felt connected to Maya Angelou. Growing up in the Central Valley with no other “Mayas” around, in elementary school I lived for those moments when Angelou was mentioned in a textbook or by a teacher. For a fleeting moment, I could bask in the glory of a) knowing that someone with my name did something extraordinary enough to appear in a book, and b) knowing that I had effectively one-upped all the “Jennifers” and “Sarahs” in my class.

But it wasn’t until this past weekend that I actually learned something about Maya Angelou’s life.

In attempts to address my post-Oprah depression (miss you!), I tuned into The Oprah Winfrey Network on Sunday and caught a program starring Maya Angelou.

I learned that when she was eight years old, Maya Angelou was the subject of abuse. Four days after she confessed the identity of her attacker, news broke that the man was found dead in town. That was the last day Angelou spoke for five years. The last day her voice was heard by anyone on the planet until she was 13. “I thought, my voice killed him; I killed that man, because I told his name. And then I thought I would never speak again, because my voice would kill anyone.”

To think that a woman so expressive with her words could go five years with pen and paper as her sole means of communicating is utterly mind-blowing.

While I’ve been writing things down since I learned how to hold a pencil without piercing my hand, I don’t think I’ve ever believed in what I’ve written.

Sure, when I came up with a borderline obnoxious but nevertheless witty title for a high school paper, I’d laugh and give myself a pat on the back. But to think that I could ever call myself a “writer” like Mark Twain or Ira Glass was absolutely out of the question.

We use writing like it’s a sixth sense. I don’t care what your major is, what your first language was or how many books you’ve read, you need writing.

When things are too painful to say out loud, or too heart-wrenching to share over the phone, we turn to writing for guidance. Sometimes, solidifying our thoughts in writing is the only way we can confirm their legitimacy.

And I’m not just talking about journaling or diary writing. The essays you write for class and the cover letters you write for job applications aren’t just arbitrary representations of whatever pops in your head. They’re your words, your ideas and your creations.

Don’t be afraid to believe in what you write. Every time you crank out a paper or grocery list, you’re recording original thought. And when you submit that paper or give that list to your grocery-shopping robot, your words stand alone, representing who you are.

We’re all writers. Maybe you don’t write to make a living or pay the bills, but who cares? What you write can make a difference for someone else, and I’d say that gives you the OK to call yourself a writer.

Since September of 2009, J.K. Rowling has re-posted the following message on her Twitter account every six months or so: “This is the real me, but you won’t be hearing from me often I’m afraid, as pen and paper are my priority at the moment.” Besides enraging members of the not-so-underground Harry Potter fandom, Rowling’s tweet[s] serve as a reminder of what writing can do for a person if their words are surrounded by enough belief. People are willing to wait decades for that woman to produce a paragraph of text.

Whenever I hear Barack Obama address the nation, I think of the speechwriters who made it happen. And when Jon Stewart can’t help but laugh when delivering a satirical joke during an episode of “The Daily Show,” I know there’s a very proud nerd backstage. While these brilliant people rarely get recognized for their work, I’d venture a guess that it doesn’t matter all that much. Knowing that their words gave a stranger something to believe in might just be enough.

So the next time you’re staring at a blank page and have no clue what to fill it with, remember that you have the power to rock the world with your words. As my namesake, ’80s television sensation “Maya the Bee,” might say, “Bee the change you wish to see in the world.” And don’t forget to keep a record of the whole thing. We need something new to believe in.

MAYA MAKKER asks “What about engineering?” If you thought that line made The Namesake the ballin’ movie that it is, let her know at mgmakker@ucdavis.edu.

My friend Jacob Frank is probably the most LinkedIn-savvy person I know. The senior American studies major has had an array of internships in public relations and sports marketing, including a summer internship with the National Football League. Part of his impressive resume can be attributed to the professional social networking website.

“It’s very important to reach out to recruiters on LinkedIn,” Frank said. “I also use it to keep in touch with people I’ve worked with to maintain connections.”

Last year, when he was interested in a PR firm, he messaged a recruiter, saying, “I’m really interested in this type of position, is there anything else I should know about?” It turned into a back-and-forth e-mail conversation, and the recruiter asked for his resume directly. By taking an active role in the job search and bypassing the HR Black Hole (see last week’s column) Frank expedited his own hiring process.

At the end of his internship with the NFL last summer, Frank also made sure to connect with everyone on LinkedIn before leaving New York City. “I wanted to make sure that people knew who I was and would remember me by seeing me on LinkedIn. It also kept me up with promotions and changes that were going on in the office while I was in California,” said Frank. His effort in maintaining his network proved its worth when he was invited back to New York last month for a one-week internship to assist with the NFL’s 2011 Draft.

I’ve mentioned LinkedIn in past columns, and it made me really happy that people were signing up and sending me requests to “become a connection,” LinkedIn’s equivalent of “Add as Friend”. If you are a college student serious about developing your future career, you should definitely be on LinkedIn. 

The website was started in 2002 and currently boasts its status as “the world’s largest professional network with more than 100 million members in over 200 countries.” Roughly one million new members join LinkedIn every week. A couple of weeks ago, LinkedIn went public and it stocks soared, hinting at the importance and value of the social medium.  

There are a myriad of benefits to being a young professional on LinkedIn. You can connect with friends, colleagues and supervisors, and use their connections in searching for job opportunities. A professional LinkedIn profile can boost your online presence, perhaps canceling out the damage from your Facebook profile.

LinkedIn is also a great job search tool, and more recruiters are relying heavily on the website, going away from traditional sources like Monster.com. Another benefit is that if you want to work for a specific company, you no longer have to wait around for them to recruit at your campus. LinkedIn users can “Follow” company profiles to interact with company representatives and take a more active role in networking and getting hired.    

Don Quinby, a 2004 graduate of UC Davis Graduate School of Management, is another LinkedIn success story. He was interested in a job at Dolby Digital, so in addition to submitting an application the regular way, he looked to his LinkedIn connections. “I found a friend of a friend who worked in accounting,” Quinby said. “I didn’t know her, but we spoke about Dolby and connected. She referred me to the hiring manager and helped me stand out through the referral.” Quinby currently works in the Financial Planning Analysis Group at Dolby. “You just never know what kind of connections you might find on LinkedIn,” he said.

Signing up for LinkedIn is super easy. The harder part is filling out your profile and finding (and maintaining) your connections to fully take advantage of the site. 

A 100 percent complete profile is more likely to come up on searches, so list detailed previous experience and education as best you can. State your summary/specialties tailored to the specific industry you’re interested in. Finally, get a recommendation from a former supervisor or colleague for each of your past jobs or internships. (Tip: the best way to get a recommendation is to write one for someone else!)

Another valuable tool is the Groups feature. “It’s the number one thing I use on LinkedIn,” said Frank. “There’s a lot of valuable information you can learn from reading message boards and seeing what people have to say.” Joining professional groups also displays them on your profile, indicating your career interests to viewers. It can also help in finding informational interviews. 

LinkedIn is like Facebook in that there’s potential for stalking, or the “professional” version of creeping. When Frank landed an interview with YouTube, he looked up his interviewers on LinkedIn. “I read up on their background and their interests, and I tried to tailor my responses toward that to make a connection,” he said.

I’ve also personally used LinkedIn to stalk, I mean, research recruiters at companies I’m interested in. Many of them post their contact information (another way to avoid the HR Black Hole), and if you’re interested in an internship, you can usually identify the “College Programs Recruiter” by looking at their connections. 

LinkedIn is like six degrees of separation on crack. I’m always amazed at the random connections I find (Barack Obama is my third-degree connection – maybe I can send him my resume). Social media is going to have a huge impact on the way our generation finds jobs. Get a head start and begin building your profile.

JENNIFER KIM hopes that these columns have been helpful to you. She will continue to write about career development at her blog, careertalkwithjen.wordpress.com. If you get stressed about the job search process, know that you aren’t alone! E-mail Jen at jsnkim@ucdavis.edu.

I realized too late that Memorial Day jipped me of a column. I had planned to do my very last as a “Response to my fans,” but lucky for me, I was offered a final chance to share parting words with my readers.

First, to the people who enjoyed my columns every week: Thank you for reading. To those who wrote to me, thank you, too. I was thrilled when I received my first fan mail, and soon they began flooding in, much akin to Harry’s Hogwarts acceptance letters, since a few of them were even carried by owl. I thoroughly enjoyed your insight and humor.

More importantly, however, this is to the people who didn’t enjoy my columns so much: Thank you for reading. I know you read every week, wading through the treacherous muck that I spew, diligently searching for the one line that doesn’t suck, but to no avail. Your sacrifice has not gone unnoticed.

Further, I cannot tell you how humbled I am, that you would spend your valuable time on my columns, despite the fact that you find me offensive, degrading, or pointless (all things I aspire to be!). When I find other writers so abominable, I usually skip right over what they have to say. But not you, my loyal haters. Such courage. I’m sure you’ll all be thrilled to know I’m graduating, although that does mean there will be little else to discuss in the future. Please, feel free to bitch about this column at length amongst yourselves, for it will be the last piece of insensitive, problematic word-vomit you read from me. And once I’m gone, go find something even more productive to do, like watching old reruns of “Flavor of Love.”

Authorship is an interesting thing. Opening up The Aggie every Monday and seeing my picture and my name on page two never lost its shock value. Our opinions this quarter ranged from the insightful to the offensive to the outrageous, and as columnists, we are lucky in that we get to share our voices. But writing for the public is risky as well. I’ve often found myself wishing I had a pen-name (though mostly because I wish people would start calling me Buttercup Cinnamontits). To my fellow columnists this quarter, and to past ones as well – you’ve got balls.

All in all, it’s been a pleasure writing for this student body. I did not expect the enthusiasm I received, from both sides of the spectrum. I’m officially done, but I’d like to remind you that The Aggie needs a new potty-mouthed writer to expel his or her general bad attitude all over the page once a week. If you think you can fill my shoes, visit The Aggie office in Lower Freeborn to pick up an application.

Just one more thing I’d like to address: One of the problems raised about my writing is that I endorse bad behavior, like drug usury, photo-bombing and maypole dancing (that last one is a scandalous subject). I was under the impression that we are all college students, with minds of our own, and the things that I say won’t totally tip my readers into Satan’s clutches. Clearly, I’m wrong, so I’m going to take advantage of my newfound power of manipulation to tell you this, UC Davis: I want a life-sized statue of myself erected on the quad by next week. And every morning, a long line of eager students should form around it, all waiting their turns to kiss my perky granite ass. Good luck with finals, all.

LENA PRESSESKY can be reached (for the last time! Send me a freakin’ e-mail!) at lmpressesky@ucdavis.edu