How remote learning complicates natural sleep habits 

In this unprecedented time, abnormal is the new normal. Now that the whole world is out of whack, it’s only fair that we contribute to the chaos via our sleep schedules. We have surrendered to the powerful nature of sleep — so much so that we’ve become bear-like in habit. UC Davis students discussed how their sleep habits have changed since the pandemic. 

Alexander Markosian, a junior transfer and sustainable agriculture and food services major, is “definitely not a natural morning person.” What first motivated Markosian’s switch to a morning routine was the amount of screen time required for this new virtual way of life. He said this new routine is “healthier, but for the wrong reasons.” 

The visual strain of increased screen time has taken its toll on Markosian. Now that school is remote, he finds himself using technology more than usual. As a result, eye strain and headaches occur, leaving him exhausted and ready for bed at an earlier time. 

“I’m not staying up at night scrolling on my phone because I’ve already done that during the day,” Markosian said. 

Although his sleep schedule improved, it comes at the cost of increased screen time, or rather, the negative effects of it. 

According to recent studies, the blue light emitted by screens obstructs a good night’s sleep and leaves remnants of the night’s exhaustion into the next morning in the form of grogginess. 

The light disrupts our body’s biological clock — that is, our circadian rhythms that transmit messages that prompt us when to sleep and when to wake up. Data reveals that the blue light, specifically, makes us less tired and more alert through the nighttime — making it harder to get the sleep we need. 

It is recommended to set screens aside for two hours before heading to bed. That way, the body has time to readjust to its natural clock away from the artificial blue light that prevents our bodies from rest.

In addition, amid remote learning, study spaces have been compromised. Beds are now utilized as a sleep, television and study area all in one. As a result, beds have become a metropolitan of all our daily activities — convoluting work with rest. 

Markosian said he avoids doing schoolwork in his bed. By natural association of bed and sleep, he likes to “keep those realms separate.” 

Evidence of recent studies reveals that one should not study in bed to avoid cross-contamination of sleep and study habits. The choice of pressing “snooze” in the bed will inevitably lead to pressing “snooze” in your work habits — subconsciously promoting laziness in work. 

“If I start working in my bed, I start sleeping,” Markosian said. By avoiding his bed while studying, he chooses to not “mix business with pleasure.” 

Prior to social distancing, Markosian would go to bed around midnight and wake up around 10 a.m. Now that he is going to bed earlier, he wakes up earlier as well. As a result, he has established a morning routine of yoga and meditation to start off his day. 

“I feel like my mornings aren’t being wasted, there’s more time to be productive,” he said, adding that he hopes to continue this new sleep schedule once shelter-in-place orders are lifted. 

According to Oscar Hood, a second-year economics major, treating social distancing “as a blessing in disguise” keeps him grounded amid the pandemic. 

Although Hood admitted that his sleep schedule is now “pretty messed up,” he has been harnessing his hours awake “100%” for his music — practicing and recording until the wee hours of the morning. 

Jam sessions at 3 a.m. may not be ideal for many, but for Hood, his “circadian rhythm is naturally tuned” to the night. Since quarantine began, Hood has been “insanely productive” with pastimes he wouldn’t normally have time to pursue. 

“I’m actually kind of thriving,” Hood said. Although this is an unprecedented time with many alterations to normalcy, Hood’s methodology of maintaining sanity is by approaching it with a glass half full mentality. 

Not everyone is as optimistic as Hood, however. Some are using the extra time as an opportunity to catch up on some sleep — arguably, a little too much. 

“I’m just oversleeping and not doing anything,” said Brooke Henderson, a fourth-year human development major. “Now it’s just a habit, and I feel like I have to get so much sleep. I’m more tired than I normally am during the school year.”

Some habits die hard. Henderson admitted that her sleep schedule was healthier prior to shelter-in-place orders. Although she still goes to bed around midnight, she now sleeps in until about noon. Without the routine schedule of normalcy prior to COVID-19, Henderson has little motivation to simply get out of bed in the morning. 

“I’m just sleeping out of boredom, I guess,” Henderson said. 

Henderson’s sleep schedule now includes more naps. She admitted that although she aims for a twenty-minute cat nap, it realistically ends up being one to two hours long. 

Henderson was a morning person before the pandemic, but now she doesn’t know what she is — she’s “just asleep.” 

She is optimistic that her sleep schedule will gradually improve once shelter-in-place orders are lifted — once there is “more motivation to switch back to old habits.” 

Under the circumstances, Henderson empathizes with those suffering the distortion of prior normalcy.

“This is just so unnatural for humans,” she said. “I feel like no one should be that hard on themselves for getting too much sleep or not being productive. We’re all doing the best we can right now in this very unprecedented time.”

Sleep schedules have been altered, there’s no denying that. Whether taking this time to hibernate or hone in on your craft, everyone is learning as they go — even if it is by hitting the snooze button one too many times. 

Written by: Sierra Jimenez — arts@theaggie.org

Withers passes away at age of 81

It’s not every day that a middle-aged aircraft toilet mechanic decides they are going to try their hand at becoming a musician, and even less often that it actually works. But for a 32-year-old Navy veteran from the coal mining town of Slab Fork, West Virginia, that’s exactly what happened — and the world is better off for it. Bill Withers, whose songs “Ain’t No Sunshine,” “Use Me” and “Lovely Day,” among others, continue to delight anyone with a soul. I was saddened to learn that this timeless, straight-talking legend passed away on March 30 at the age of 81.

Withers, the youngest of six children, came from modest means in coal country where he was an outsider — not by choice, but by default. Born with a stutter, he was both the butt of jokes from his peers and the ire of impatient folk, berating him with remarks like, “Just spit it out already” (as if he had any choice in the matter). Withers found solace in his family and “learned to love through [a] fine old lady,” — his grandmother who helped raise him when, at the age of 13, his father passed away from a heart attack. In the documentary “Still Bill,” Withers fondly recalls that his grandmother’s church was filled with his favorite kind of singing: spontaneous singing. Whether intentional or not, this effortless quality seeped into Withers’ musical repertoire.

During his nine-years in the Navy, while stationed in Guam, Withers began playing music as a way to pass the time. Returning from Guam, he worked at Weber Aircraft installing toilets. In a moment of clarity, Withers decided to record a tape and try his hand in the music biz. He played his tape to pianist and “guardian angel” Ray Jackson of the 103rd Street Watts Band, where it then made its way through the grapevine and finally landed on a desk at the Los Angeles-based label Sussex Records. They immediately signed him to a record deal. 

From there, he began performing and touring with a couple of Jackson’s bandmates, including Ray Jackson, James Gatson, Melvin Dunlap and Benorce Blackman — a group of audaciously talented musicians worthy of their own signatures in the history books of soul, funk and rhythm ‘n’ blues. Despite his newfound success, Withers, being the sensible man he was, refused to leave his day job. After a performance on The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson, Withers’ popularity swelled and his songs filled the radio waves alongside the likes of Sly and the Family Stone, Al Green and Led Zeppelin.

Although Withers gradually evolved into a household name, he never truly embraced superstar status. He was satisfied to play music and make a good living doing it, preferring to opt-out of the industry hullabaloo. His laidback persona shone through his performances. Withers was probably best known for his abilities with pen in hand, writing songs that sheared off any hint of malarkey and cut straight to the heart. Withers said during his acceptance speech for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame that “every kind of music has its own constituency,” and yet his own reach knew no bounds. He managed to tap into a spectrum of emotions from sorrow to safety. Honesty inherent in his technique, he wrote about everyday life and love — not just for a lover, but also for a friend and beloved relative. His songs were by no means engineered for the masses, but seemed to connect with most all the same. 

Despite his rise to stardom, he remained true to himself. When the business and the Artists and Repertoire (or in Withers’ words “antagonistic and redundant”) staff tried to bend him to fit a mainstream mold, he put his foot down and walked away on his own terms. From that point on, he slowed down the pace, shifting his energy and time to enjoy the company of friends and family.

This past summer, at a camp for children affected by different forms of grief, I was huddled with kids who were given the opportunity to share whatever was on their mind. By the end, just when all involved were either nearing or already in tears, Withers’ “Lean on Me” came through the stereo. Every kid and counselor from the ages of six to 23 stopped, sang and swayed together. Withers once remarked that all he wanted was to make simple but profound songs. Withers turned a few solemn chords on the piano, three verses and a chorus into an instant classic. “Lean on Me,” released over 48 years ago, is still admired as a paragon of amity and hope for a better tomorrow. 

There is a dark irony in the time of Withers’ passing — a time in which we crave the solidarity and love infused in his music now perhaps more than ever before. At the same time, it is also a moment in which his music’s grace and power rises to its highest ebb. We are all due to crank up some Withers and pay our respects to the tenderness and integrity of both the sound and the man.

Written by: Andrew Williams — arts@theaggie.org

The completely accurate, irrevocable truth 

I hope I am, at the very least, self-aware. Self-aware enough, that is, to recognize that I am often a parody of myself, a man on the fringes of what constitutes a “real” adult and an old-timey cartoon character. It’s this self-awareness that has led me to realize I have a type, and that indeed, I am also very much looked at as a type, albeit a small one, mainly with women who have their favorite Renoir as a forearm tattoo.

 I have never dated a man, but I know tons of women, and men, who have. And what follows is an anthropological study on the five types of men you’ll find at UC Davis. Let it be both a vehicle and a compass on your journey to find romantic attachment in the breadth of Cowtown’s male populace. 

Man #1: The Fraternity Guy 

It’s welcome weekend, and the roommates you just met implore you to go out with them. After some prancing down Russell Boulevard, you end up at Zeta Jamiroquai Theta, or whatever their name is. A man comes up to you, strutting without caution, dressed in a brightly-colored tank top holding an even more brightly-colored bottle of Svedka. You have a couple shots, accompanied by the most average conversation. This is a guy you either have a one-night stand with or date for a year. There is no in-between. He seems nice enough, though there are probably several serious character flaws lurking under the thin veneer of his Patagonia fleece. But honestly? It’s well worth it, just to get those pics at winter formal. 

Man #2: The Indie Guy 

The moment this man enters a room it will rapidly begin to smell like patchouli. Thrifted clothes, bad facial hair and a dangly earring are all this guy needs to impress any girl who has even entertained the thought of getting a nose ring. His band will be playing at Turtle House this quarter, and he will ask you to come. Don’t be alarmed: They sound just like Tame Impala, but like, more experimental. Whatever that means. Good luck trying to actually date this guy, because he’ll probably ignore your texts for a couple weeks, saying life has “just been so crazy, we’re locked in the studio haha.” But then you see him at Mishka’s the next day with a jar of homemade kombucha, talking about jazz loudly enough so others notice. 

Man #3: The Weirdly Southern Guy

These guys may be hard to spot, because of all the camo, but once you start talking to one, you’ll know. You don’t need to scroll through his Instagram page, because every single post since high school has been the same. Cheap sunglasses, a gas station trucker hat and tons of good-looking dead fish staring straight into the camera. The weirdly Southern guy has a certain…je ne sais quoi to him. Something about him just…hooks you in, no pun intended. He’s most definitely an agricultural major, or at the very least, something adjacent in engineering or biology. Be careful, because if you’re drinking anything but Coors, Hamms or Natty Light around these guys, there will be hell to pay. Coming from the big city, I was apprehensive about being around so many guys unironically wearing Carharrt here at Davis — but they’ve been nothing but sweet to me. Until they turn on Luke Combs. Then things get rowdy. 

Man #4: The Really Nice Guy 

It’s tough to believe that this guy is really going to Davis to study the immigration rights of native bird populations, but here we are. From what one can gather, this is a genuinely good guy‚ with a winning smile, on the club soccer team, with no weird sex thing…but perhaps that is his greatest weakness, as well. The paradox of “the nice guy” is that what you see is exactly what you get. There is no satisfying gooey center at the end of that sturdy exterior; indeed, the exterior is the reward. He definitely lived in Segundo and is constantly approached first to be people’s partner in lab. If he’s from California, there’s a 90% chance he’s from San Diego, but if not, then there’s a 100% chance he’s from Cape Cod. Either way, be prepared to get respected and cared for. And for every date to be a movie night at home with a Trader Joe’s frozen entree. 

Man #5: Your Best Friend 

Oh no. Oh God. You’ve known him since you were five. Your families always went to that one Mexican place in Berkeley together. This can’t be happening…except it just did. There are a million different things that you could be telling yourself, but in the end, it just so happened that 15 years of friendship have led to the biggest sexual tension in the Northern Hemisphere. It’s fine. This is fine. While things may be a bit strange at first, the best friend is somehow unphased, almost embracing the surreal reality in which you two now live. You, on the other hand, may not be so lucky. 

Bonus: The Republican 

It was one time, okay?

Written by: Ilya Shrayber — arts@theaggie.org