Listen in, Michigan

A self-governing democracy can’t survive in an ecosystem of disinformation, especially when the lies and propaganda are homegrown, says University of Michigan law professor Barbara McQuade, BA ‘87/JD ’91. In her new book, ‘Attack from Within,’ the MSNBC legal analyst sounds the alarm about the escalating dangers of domestic terrorism and offers tips to combat this deadly threat.

Ted Kaczynski, known to history as ‘the Unabomber,’ was a violent genius who terrorized the U.S. for nearly 20 years. When University of Michigan archivist Julie Herrada learned of his 1996 arrest, she put aside her personal feelings and initiated a prison correspondence that would land one of the Labadie Collection's most popular, albeit disturbing, acquisitions.

The history of Ann Arbor’s film scene unspools like one of those epic historical dramas, the kind that opens with Model Ts and cloche hats and ends in the uber-future with gleaming skyscrapers and self-driving cars. Of course, there's the mod period in the middle -- all hippies and rebels and rockers. For now, film fans will have to settle for the book version of this saga in "Cinema Ann Arbor" (University of Michigan Press/Fifth Avenue Press, 2023). Frank Uhle, BFA '83/MILS '92, delivers 334 pages jam-packed with anecdotes and memories culled from more than 80 interviews with film industry alumni as well as the faculty, students, and local iconoclasts who pioneered this vibrant scene. Legendary professors Marvin Felheim, Joe Wehrer, and Robert Sklar are covered, as well as George Manupelli and the ONCE Group. The beloved Hugh Cohen (who is still teaching film at 92) was the Cinema Guild's faculty adviser in 1967. He was arrested for screening the experimental film "Flaming Creatures, deemed obscene by the Ann Arbor police, and offered up his mugshot for Uhle's book. Cohen's personal scrapbook was just one treasure trove that Uhle discovered through his years of research, writing, and production. He tracked down performance artist Pat Oleszko, familiar to patrons of the Ann Arbor Film Festivals in the late '60s. He connected with Seattle-based artist Buster Simpson who photographed an early Velvet Underground performance at the 1966 film festival when Andy Warhol screened his “Up-Tight with Andy Warhol and the Velvet Underground.” And he met journalist David Margolick, one-time Michigan Daily photographer, who still had his negatives from 1973 when director Frank Capra spoke to Felheim's class. The author took advantage of several campus archives, from U-M's Labadie Collection of anarchism to the Screen Arts Mavericks & Makers Archive, featuring the work of Robert Altman and John Sayles. He mined The Michigan Daily digital archives and combed through the Bentley's photo collections of Daily alumni and others who were on the scene. The ads, calendars, mugshots, flyers, receipts, notes, and schedules will transport one back to an analog era when film canisters traveled from screening to screening on trains, planes, and automobiles. The Cinema Guild schedules, once taped on virtually every refrigerator in town, offer a newsprint snapshot of the culture. The list is long, the films are diverse, and the screening rooms were all over campus and town. In short, our little college town got in on the action pretty early in the game -- 1929 if you consider that an events coordinator named Amy Loomis screened films at the newly opened Michigan League. But 1932 is the year students and faculty created the Art Cinema League, officially marking their territory on this new celluloid terrain. A number of societies and guilds would crop up through the years, eventually succumbing to Hollywood trends that emphasized home entertainment. Any film lover or history buff -- especially the members of Ann Arbor’s longstanding cinema guilds, film societies, and festivals -- will delight in this trip through time. Read more at michigantoday.umich.edu.

A 'daughter' at 37 Most visitors to the University of Michigan Biological Station return with tales of the lush woods, rustic cabins, and beautiful beaches of Douglas Lake. But for the bookish and artistic daughter of the late-U-M botanist/biology professor Howard Crum, it was the mid-century library in Pellston, Mich., that would capture her imagination. Mary Crum Scholtens, BM ’84/MM ’86, spent each of her childhood summers with her father and family at U-M’s Biological Station. She was always intrigued by the bust of a man who seemed to watch over the camp’s library 24/7. She never knew who he was, but the statue’s constant presence in her life left an indelible impression. The bust disappeared in the mid-’70s and when Scholtens enrolled at U-M she discovered the subject was Chase Salmon Osborn (1860-1949), a U-M regent from 1908-11 and the state’s governor from 1911-13. She also learned Carleton Angell, the artist behind the pumas standing guard at the Museum of Natural History, was the sculptor. In researching Osborn, who turned out to be something of a Horatio Alger type, Scholtens learned he was an iron prospector, newspaper magnate, celebrity, and politician known for making several fortunes and giving them away. He successfully lobbied Franklin D. Roosevelt to have the Mackinac Bridge constructed and favored progressive policies like workers’ compensation. But Scholtens kept tripping over a personal fact, seemingly brushed aside, that appeared in every account of his life. Osborn and his wife, Lillian, had adopted a daughter in 1931. She was a University of Michigan alumna named Stella Lee Brunt, who’d earned a master’s degree in English. And she was 37 years old. “I’m thinking, ‘This does not make any sense,’” Scholtens says. “How do you convince a wife that you’re going to do this?” Listen in to find out. Read more at https://michigantoday.umich.edu/2023/03/24/episode-55-truth-is-stranger-than-historical-fiction-featuring-a-arbour/

He’s a first-generation college graduate, one of 12 children, and, at 6-foot-6, a likely cinch at college hoops. But Rob Ernst, MD ’91, U-M’s Chief Health Officer, had no desire to be a student-athlete. He always prioritized academics over athletics during his undergrad years at Notre Dame and his medical school stint at Michigan. “I was varsity library,” says the longtime primary care physician, who recently moved his clinical practice from Michigan Medicine to the University Health Service on campus. “Physicians are problem solvers and lifelong learners and that always resonated with me. It’s no surprise I became an internist. My joy comes from knowing a lot about a lot.” That’s a good thing, because Ernst also is the University’s associate VP of health and wellness in student life. Mental health stressors in 2023 are more extreme and overwhelming than ever. Nothing drives that point home more than the Feb. 13 shooting at Michigan State that left three students dead and five others fighting for their lives. It’s woefully inadequate to describe the modern-day student experience as turbulent in light of so many existential stressors. But if anyone understands, it’s Ernst. In the past 35 years, he has served as a U-M physician, a clinical educator, and an administrator. At Spring 2023 Commencement, he will become a proud alumni parent Ernst credits his medical training as an internist for honing a holistic approach to problem-solving that has defined his career. While working as a clinical faculty member at Michigan Medicine, he relied on an affinity for systems-based thinking to tackle physician burnout. “The contemporary notion of health promotion is to acknowledge an interconnectedness of people, places, and the entire planet,” he says. “And the general consensus is that you can’t fully address an issue like physician burnout through individual initiatives: You can’t ‘yoga’ your way out of it. To really move the needle, you need a systems-based approach to identify and address some of the upstream effects of stress and anxiety.” To “really move the needle” in higher education, Ernst advocated that U-M adopt the Okanagan Charter, a framework for wellbeing that calls upon post-secondary schools to embed health into all aspects of campus culture and to lead health promotion action and collaboration locally and globally. Popular in Europe and Canada, the charter came from the 2015 International Conference on Health Promoting Universities and Colleges at the University of British Columbia’s Okanagan campus. Participants from 45 countries, representing educational institutions and health organizations (including the World Health Organization and UNESCO), collaborated to produce the charter. U-M is one of the first U.S. universities to sign on. “It helps get partners around the table to talk about strategy,” Ernst says. “It forces us to ask the question: ‘If we were really living into this aspirational goal of being a health-promoting university, would we think about this issue or policy differently?’ There may be many things to consider, but [having a framework] helps to check that particular box. It provides a strategy to work toward a common purpose.” Today’s students share the collective trauma of growing up with school shootings, anxiety about climate change, and the pain associated with institutional racism. The ongoing effects of COVID-19 further detract from a supportive learning environment. Many students grapple with social anxiety and isolation, all while a sense of belonging is critical for thriving in the community. Decision-makers have to consider context and climate when considering mental health initiatives, Ernst says. “We can’t move the needle on mental health without focusing on equity and inclusion,” he says. We can’t center our own individual well-being if the community around us is struggling.”

How Team Canada fought back, took the Summit Series, and reinvented hockey When prolific author and Michigan Today contributor John U. Bacon, BA '86/MA '94, pitched me on his new book about the 1972 Summit Series, I had no idea what he was talking about. But after a few sentences, delivered with Bacon's characteristic ebullience, I was in. This episode is just a little morsel that teases Bacon's latest sports tale, "The Greatest Comeback" (Harper Collins, 2022), a chronicle of the "most unforgettable matchup in hockey history." It was September 1972, and Cold War tensions were off the charts. What better time for an unprecedented eight-game hockey series between Canada and the national team of the Soviet Union? Team Canada, flush with its country’s best players — all NHL stars, half of them future Hall of Famers -- was expected to sweep the series. But five games in, the team had mustered only one win. With just three games left, Team Canada had to win the last three in Moscow. (Spoiler alert: They did.) The Summit players asked Bacon to tell their story and he spoke to almost every living member of the team. He says the series was an experience so unforgettable that each player considers those eight games to be the highlight of their storied careers. And, as with all unforgettable stories, the University of Michigan had a part to play. Red Berenson, BBA ’62/MBA ’66, U-M hockey coach for 33 seasons, not only played on the team, he's naturally one of Bacon's best sources.

In this episode of Listen in Michigan, we are celebrating the Harvest. Sweet potatoes with marshmallows or without? With the Thanksgiving holiday upon us, it seemed ideal the ideal time to showcase The University of Michigan Campus Farm and all its bounty. Founded by Michigan students in 2011 at the Matthei Botanical Gardens, the farm is a living-learning lab – classic academic lingo, right? But it really is. It’s a place where students and researchers from any school and college can contribute their expertise – from engineering and public policy to biology and economics. It’s one of those living labs that is actually living. The goal is not only to produce good food and feed people fresh and ecologically grown produce, but to improve our multifaceted, complicated, wasteful, and often illogical food system. Social justice and equity are important topics at the farm, as much as preserving and optimizing our natural resources. This episode's guests are Jermey Moghtader, program manager at the campus farm, and Talya Soytas, a student leader at the farm and an environment & economics major. Jeremy says most of the students he encounters aren’t looking at farming as a full-time career. It's nearly impossible to make a living as a small-scale, diverse farmer these days. The majority of the students – like Talya -- are seeking to increase their skill set and understanding of food production to better understand the entire food system and help those farmers out. Meanwhile, our changing climate will require new ways of thinking about co-optimizing resources, maximizing land use, and developing new farming techniques – all great research topics for engineers, scientists, and entrepreneurs. Have you ever heard of agro-photo-voltaics? Keep listening and you will. Either way, the opportunities at the farm are endless – it’s part of a virtuous circle on campus that includes U-M’s Sustainable Food Program, Michigan Dining, the Maize & Blue Cupboard, and more. More than anything the Campus Farm is one of those places that provides everything a college experience should. It’s authentic. It’s high impact. It’s “co-curricular.” It’s perfect for the student who just wants to grow veggies for their fellow students and sell them at the Campus Farm Stand, or for the student with an eye on a Cabinet position in a future presidential administration that will transform policy. Listen in to learn more.

Blazing temps, a torrential storm, and thousands of passionate art aficionados reunited in Ann Arbor in July for the 2022 Ann Arbor Street Art Fair. Love it or leave it, this Midwest tradition draws close to half a million attendees over three days in July each year for browsing and shopping. It is the largest juried art fair in the nation with a footprint that spans some 30 city blocks in downtown Ann Arbor, extending onto the University of Michigan's campus. The original Ann Arbor Street Art Fair dates to July 1960 when the town's merchants sought a way to offset the effects of the annual student exodus. Today's modern event comprises three fairs: -- the Ann Arbor Street Art Fair, The Original; -- the Guild's Ann Arbor Summer Art Fair, -- and the Ann Arbor State Street Art Fair. In this episode of Listen in, Michigan, you'll meet Angela Kline, executive director of the Original. An artist herself, she worked for years marketing the textiles artist Chris Roberts Antieau, managing galleries in New Mexico and New Orleans, producing a documentary, and, yes, staffing the artist's booth at the Ann Arbor fair for nearly a decade. As an artist-friendly executive director following in the steps of longtime leader Maureen Riley, Kline brings valuable perspective to the artist/vendor experience. She describes the fair as a "jewel in Ann Arbor's crown." Whether you're a fan who delights in the organized chaos or a curmudgeon who leaves town for a week, the fair likely was a large part of your Ann Arbor experience. Listen in, as we walk through the crowds, mingling with some of the most brilliant talents on the planet -- and loving our town because of it. The art featured here is a self-portrait by Michigan painter Armando Pedroso.

Precision. Few qualities are more important to the advancement of science. Precision also is important to the advancement of our brains. Especially when it comes to achieving lasting change in eating and exercise behaviors. Take the terms “joy” and “choice.” For the University of Michigan's award-winning translational researcher and health coach Michelle Segar, PhD/MPH/MS, these are the precise words that set the foundation for her fresh and brain-based alternative to a longstanding paradigm of behavior change she describes as “simplistic, outdated, and misguided for many.” “The ways we’ve been taught to change our exercise and eating habits are punitive and restrictive in a way that primes us to boomerang away from that which we said we wanted,” Segar says. “We’ve been set up to rebel. Part of the reason we self-sabotage in this way is that we haven’t learned how to successfully navigate and bypass this innately human, yet non-optimal response.” While planning will always play a role in creating changes in exercise and intentional eating, most of us haven’t learned the important — yet simple and precise — ways to manage the unexpected, in-the-moment challenges to our best-laid plans, “even if it’s as simple as not feeling motivated, or wanting to rebel,” Segar says. In her new book, Segar turns the outmoded way of thinking about behavior change on its head. Read more about "The Joy Choice" at michigantoday.umich.edu

The University of Michigan's Spectrum Center co-founder and U-M alumnus Jim Toy died Jan. 1 at age 91, leaving a legacy for his work advancing LGBTQ+ rights in Ann Arbor, the state of Michigan, and the nation. Toy was a fierce champion for human rights, and in 1971 helped establish the university’s Human Sexuality Office — later becoming the Spectrum Center — the country’s first campus office dedicated to supporting LGBTQ+ students has provided outreach, education, and advocacy on campus and within the local community. Toy held his position with the Human Sexuality Office until 1994, when he moved into a staff position that was later folded into the former Office for Institutional Equity, from which he retired from U-M in 2008. Toy was born April 29, 1930, to a Chinese American father and Scottish Irish American mother, and spent his adolescence in Granville, Ohio, where he would later receive his undergraduate education. In high school, Toy experienced racial harassment in the wake of the attacks on Pearl Harbor. Toy graduated from Denison University in 1951 with degrees in French and music, and then spent time in France teaching high school English. Upon returning to the United States, he worked in a blood bank in New York City to fulfill his service requirement as a conscientious objector. It was at a Vietnam War protest in Detroit that Toy first came out publicly. He was known as an outspoken queer, Asian American activist who garnered statewide attention for coming out publicly in 1970 at the rally. “Jim Toy was a model for us all both in how he lived and what he left,” Bentley Historical Library Director Terrence McDonald told Pride Source. “In life he was the gentlest but most unshakeable campaigner for what was right in so many areas; in death his legacy has been preserved in his magnificent collection at the Bentley Historical Library, which is not only frequently used but has served as a magnet for other collections involving LGBTQ individuals.” Toy continued his involvement at the university in many ways, including speaking at the 2017 Lavender Graduation Ceremony and participating in the 2019 undergraduate student history project “Deconstructing the Model Minority at the University of Michigan.” “It is rare to be a part of an organization so connected to its roots, purpose and mission, and that wouldn’t be the case without Jim,” said Spectrum Center Director Will Sherry. “Over the years, I have been the audience to so many stories filled with moments of joy, fear and loss where Jim has been a constant light helping move us forward.” By Ejay Oravecz; this article also includes contributions from PrideSource.com.

True crime, police dramas, murder mysteries: They hold an irresistible allure for many of us. For Greg Stejskal, that allure led to a three-decade career in law enforcement as a special agent in the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI). Born in 1949, he traces his fascination with crimefighting to TV shows like "Superman" and the film The FBI Story, starring Jimmy Stewart. For nearly 32 years, Stejskal was based in Michigan, operating out of Detroit and Ann Arbor. His 2021 book FBI Case Files: Michigan (The History Press) reads like a "greatest hits" of the state's most notorious criminals and the investigations that took them down. "It's very gratifying, very rewarding," Stejskal says of his record in law enforcement. "But I also want to say, and this is important, everything I ever did in my bureau career was always with other people. So much of our success comes through a team effort." The beauty in reading a book like this? Stejskal delivers the high points on the page and leaves the mind-numbing police work on the table. As he points out, "It's not easy to distill a 20-year investigation into something as exciting as a movie or TV show." Highlights include: -- The disappearance of Teamsters President Jimmy Hoffa (just weeks after Stejskal arrived at the FBI's Detroit field office in summer 1975). Widely believed to be a victim of murder, Hoffa's body has never been recovered. -- The identification of Unabomber and U-M grad Ted Kaczyinski, a domestic terrorist who sent 16 bombs to people (including U-M professor James McConnell) between 1978-95. He was only apprehended after the New York Times and Washington Post published a manifesto detailing his inner thoughts, and his brother confirmed his identity. -- The takedown of a major player working for the nation's largest marijuana smuggler and distributor. His name was James Hill and he owned an ice cream shop called The Lovin' Spoonful on Main Street in Ann Arbor. Stejskal knew him as "the Joker." He went to prison in 1990. -- A landmark case regarding free speech on the Internet that arose when 22-year-old U-M student Jake Baker was caught emailing murder fantasies with a fellow deviant. Baker actually named a specific woman and her address in his online ramblings. The judge cited the First Amendment when dismissing the case. In his retirement, Stejskal continues to follow the bureau's work with intense curiosity. These days, he pays close attention to cases emerging from the Jan. 6 insurrection at the nation's Capitol. Listen in, as Stejskal takes you inside the mind of a seasoned G-man as he recounts some of the most memorable cases in his career. He recently traveled to Los Angeles for an interview with producers of the History Channel program "History's Greatest Mysteries."

Michigan Today readers know what a talented writer we have in author/historian James Tobin. In his new collection of fascinating stories and essays about University of Michigan history, Tobin reveals his entanglement and profound affection for the University, its complexity, and the role scholarship plays in society. "Sing to the Colors: A Writer Explores Two Centuries at the University of Michigan" is published by the University of Michigan Press (2021). Read more at michigantoday.umich.edu

In the realm of pedagogy, education experts often tout the benefits of hands-on learning. But for Michelle Krell Kydd, that simplistic term falls short. If she had her way, the experts also would be pushing "nose-on learning." Kydd contends that getting students interested in smell is like getting them interested in music. It opens them to nonvisual experiences that are just as valuable, if not more valuable sometimes, than visual ones. "Smell brings concepts to life," she says. "As a kindergartener or sophomore in college, if you put cinnamon in front of me when talking about the spice trade, I'm going to put that picture of a smell in my mind with an experience, versus being taught something." Kydd received her training as a professional nose at Givaudan, a Swiss multinational manufacturer of flavors, fragrances, and active cosmetic ingredients. She also attended New York's Fashion Institute of Technology. After years working as a marketing consultant in the beauty and fragrance industry, she turned her focus toward the role of smell in education and began presenting interactive "Smell and Tell" events at the Ann Arbor District Library, 826 Michigan, the University of Michigan, and elsewhere. She's written the blog "Glass, Petal, Smoke" since 2007, hoping to inspire readers to explore "this magnificent world" with every tool at their disposal. (One can learn a lot by following her lively and informative Twitter account). In 2015, Kydd presented the TedxUofM Talk, "Secrets from a Trained Nose." If you're an anthropologist or an archaeologist, you're always digging," she says. "But we've lost that ability. We've become a culture of gazers due to our cell phones and the Internet. That said, the Internet does play a role in Kydd's evolving educational scentscape. In June, she presented her third U-M Zoom class, "Rite Smells," and was surprised how effectively the online format supported her interactive program for teachers. She created the workshop for the University's MENA-SEA Teacher Program, supported by a Title VI Grant from the U.S. Department of Education. The workshop targeted Michigan teachers working with students in grades 6-12. Attendees received a pre-course flight of eight anonymized scents by mail that represented a sensory exploration of the historic routes of trade from the Indian Ocean, the Bay of Bengal, and the Arabian Sea. Teachers shared their impressions, memories, and feelings with one another about the various scents they experienced and how they planned to use them in their lesson plans. By the end of the day, participants had tools to integrate sensory experiences in the classroom into articulated lived experiences. "It's fascinating to witness group behavior and how participants' responses evolve when they're talking about something that is sensed rather than seen," Kydd says. "But it's more fascinating when they discuss their scent memories. Boundaries dissolve because participants are immersed in each other's sensory evaluations. They are fully present for what an anonymized scent evokes and experience the joy of discovery in their common humanity." Imagine Kydd's despair when COVID-19 hit the globe. The virus kills by literally taking your breath away. Many survivors experience a loss of smell, a fate Kydd cannot fathom. "This is like the ultimate irony," she says. "I've spent the last 10 years in Ann Arbor telling people to value their sense of smell and then there's a pandemic that includes smell loss [anosmia] as a short- and long-term symptom." Sometimes she receives calls from people who fear they've suffered permanent loss of smell. She points them to the work of Dr. Thomas Hummel, of the Smell & Taste Clinic in the Department of Otorhinolaryngology at Germany's Dresden University. Hummel's smell training techniques are supported by research and similar to the professional sensory evaluation techniques Kydd teaches at Smell & Tell classes. "I call it olfactory calisthenics," she says. "Hummel's findings across time suggest that if things are in a state of repair, you can stimulate the sense of smell (even in you can't smell), which stimulates the brain, and you can help yourself get better," she says. In this podcast, Kydd's passion for sharing the wonders of smell is palpable. She takes us on a tour of her favorite scentscapes in Ann Arbor and explains the way smell works on our brains, especially when it comes to nostalgia. Maybe it's the smell of a wet paper bag in 1960 as you sheltered from the rain after eating a pecan roll at Drake's. Or the acrid smell of Scorekeeper's in 2010 as you staggered past the Maynard Street parking garage after last call. Just close your eyes and inhale, she suggests. That's when the magic happens.

David Zinn has more friends than anyone can count. It’s a rare condition for someone so “pathologically shy,” so anxious, and so naturally prone to gloom. Granted, many of his friends have yet to materialize, but it’s certain they will appear when he needs them most. He just requires a weather-beaten sidewalk and his wooden box of chalk. Zinn’s imaginary posse includes countless whimsical creatures emerging from cracks and stumps, sprouting weeds as hair, and teaching life lessons amid their pock-marked surroundings. So what appears to be a three-dimensional flying pig with a balloon (Philomena, for instance) may be Zinn working through an existential crisis on a cracked piece of pavement. “I am very comfortable using the obstacles of a non-blank canvas to avoid the much more terrifying prospect of a blank canvas,” the artist says. “And it's something I hope I can carry over to the rest of my life. Because I'm sometimes shocked with how much I am still prone to seeing an obstacle in life as an obstacle. In his art, the obstacles represent freedom from the onslaught of myriad choices a blank page presents. Working with found objects sets the stage for Zinn to make his imaginary friends visible to everyone else. You might catch Sluggo, the stalk-eyed green dude emerging from a snowdrift before it melts. Look closely at an abandoned umbrella and you’ll notice an ideal shelter for Nadine the tiny book-reading mouse. (She’s bit of a mentor to Zinn, the one who helps him figure out why he’s here, and what he’s doing.) “Since I often don't know the fate of my own drawings, I don't know who is going to see them or what effect it might have,” he says. “So there's a faith aspect of just assuming the best, and that we're living in the best possible circumstances that were available at the time.” Philosopher Zinn actually graduated with a creative writing degree from U-M’s Residential College and spent much of his career as a commercial artist and designer. Ann Arbor residents may recognize the posters, signage, advertising, and other promotional work he has produced for clients ranging from U-M’s Gilbert & Sullivan society to the shops at Kerrytown. And since 1987, locals have grown accustomed to spotting his colorful critters underfoot, only to lose them again as soon as the elements erase them into the ether. “People often want to know why I'm not sad that these drawings are destroyed by rain and wind,” Zinn says. “And some people are very uncomfortable with my not-being-uncomfortable about this. But I have found that holding on to things is rarely a source of comfort and ease. That's pretty much where anxiety comes from: holding on to things. Letting go is where you find your ease and comfort, not holding on.” Long ago, Zinn “let go” of his identity as “Artist” with a capital A. He much prefers the lower-case version, the kind of art that is temporary, outside, and inspired by an existing image. He likens it to pareidolia, the concept of seeing faces in the clouds. He describes his method as “augmented pareidolia,” in which he catches a glimpse of something and “connects the dots.” Pretty soon that big flat weed spreading across the cement is a snaggle-toothed fish accepting a piece of cake from an unflappable mouse. In a boat, no less. Zinn shares his wisdom with lower-case artists of all ages through Ted Talks, tutorials, and his books, The Chalk Art Handbook, Underfoot Menagerie, and Temporary Preserves. He photographs his work and delights followers on social media with his deceptively cute drawings. Throughout the pandemic of 2020-21, he challenged himself to draw only on the block surrounding his house. It was a boast he’d been making for years: that he’d never run out of options. And while it turned out to be true, “I’ve been thinking about venturing onto the next block,” he says. Zinn still has a mental list of spots on his to-do list and has learned not to procrastinate when he finds a splotch, a weed, a crack that inspires. “It’s been an opportunity to see that ephemerality is really the universal condition,” he says, “even among things we think of as permanent. I could think, ‘Oh, that's an interesting crack in the ground, but I’m going to come back because that crack’s gonna be there for a long time.’ “Not always so,” he continues. “Not only do cracks get fixed, cracks change over time. They widen and they shift. The permanent ground has more in common with my dust than it does with any kind of actual permanence."

Mark Twain is credited with saying, ‘History doesn’t repeat itself, but it often rhymes.’ The same could be said for commencement speeches. Listen in, as we revisit the most inspiring lines from past University of Michigan commencement speakers like filmmaker Lawrence Kasdan, cartoonist Cathy Guisewite, author Joyce Carol Oates, poet/essayist Joseph Brodsky, novelist Charlie Baxter, and writer Toni Morrison.

Actor Wendell Pierce discovered his affinity for the arts in trigonometry class. That discovery has taken him to such productions as “The Wire,” “Treme,” “Selma,” and more. It also has taken him to "Death of a Salesman" and more recently "Some Old Black Man," a digital performance with U-M's University Musical Society. “In trigonometry, I figured out someone could use the same toolbox and come up with a different proof,” says the actor. “But the authenticity of the truth within that proof doesn’t change. There’s an absolute truth, no matter how you get there.” That’s when Pierce first understood Shakespeare. And that’s how he understood Arthur Miller’s Willy Loman, a performance that earned him an Olivier Award nomination during a West End run of “Salesman” in London. “In every generation, a great actor can illuminate something that hasn't been seen before,” Pierce says of writers like Miller. “And that’s artistry. That’s what makes a classic.” What Pierce hopes to illuminate by making digital art with UMS, during the quarantine, is another undeniable truth. The actor recently completed a digital artist residency at UMS where he starred in the digital production of the 2015 play “Some Old Black Man” by James Anthony Tyler. The two-man show about a father and son co-stars Pierce as Calvin and Charlie Robinson as Donald, his father. The cast and crew lived and worked together under quarantine to rehearse and ultimately film the play at Detroit’s Jam Handy. Despite the heavy reliance on technology to rehearse, produce, and film the play, Pierce declares the humanity shines through. “I learned that the human element cannot be eliminated, even when there's a predominance of technology in the equation of how you work,” he says. Read more at michigantoday.umich.edu

Albert Kahn (1869-1942) is a familiar name to most Michigan alumni, especially the ones who paid attention to their campus tour guides. Angell Hall, Burton Memorial Tower, and the Hatcher Graduate Library are just a few of Kahn's contributions to Ann Arbor. Detroit’s long-abandoned Packard Automotive Plant, the Willow Run Bomber Plant, and the Ford River Rouge Complex are just a few of Kahn’s most impressive industrial systems. But the architect has yet to receive the industry recognition he truly deserves, says Claire Zimmerman, associate professor of architectural history and theory. In fact, he was nearly written out of the 1958 publication of Henry Russell Hitchcock's survey of 19th and 20th century architecture. It's ironic, she says, because some Kahn buildings were credited with helping win World War II. After 1945, though, sentiment changed. “The architecture world turned its back completely on the development of industrial architecture before 1941 or ’42,” says Zimmerman. “The supposition was that these kinds of buildings were responsible for threatened nuclear holocaust. The [profession] began to see industrialized architecture as a very mixed bag -- useful for 'bread and butter,’ but highly controversial politically and historically. It was safer to focus on skyscrapers.” Kahn pressed on, though he didn’t build many skyscrapers. Much of his work is characterized by the patented Kahn Method -- reinforced concrete, poured concrete, and steel -- to frame and reinforce massive structures. Kahn’s brother, Julius, a Michigan grad, engineered and patented the novel method. “It’s a great system,” Zimmerman says, “reinforced concrete has never become obsolete.” Neither has Kahn’s firm, despite Hitchcock’s survey. Albert Kahn Associates, helmed by CEO Alan Cobb, recently marked 125 years in business and some 45,000 projects to its collective credit. Learn more at michigantoday.umich,edu.

Former 'Washington Post' editor Sara Fitzgerald was the first female editor-in-chief at the ‘Michigan Daily’ covering a pivotal time in the women’s movement. Her new book celebrates the activists who fought sex bias at U-M and paved the way for breakthrough legislation. Read more at michigantoday.umich.edu.

Since taking the helm at the University Musical Society at U-M in 1987, this gregarious French horn player has hosted everyone from the Royal Shakespeare Company and Cecilia Bartoli to Leonard Bernstein and Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. Now retired, Ken Fischer chronicles his 30-year run at UMS in the book ‘Everybody In, Nobody Out.’ Listen in, as Fischer regales us with backstage stories and behind-the-scenes revelations from a fascinating career.

When Keith Orr and Martin Contreras refashioned their Mexican restaurant La Casita de Lupe into /aut/BAR in 1995, they sought to deliver a radically different gay-positive experience to the people of Ann Arbor. Their club would be the city’s first full-time, gay-owned gay bar. For the more than two decades that followed, Orr and Contreras created a sanctuary in Kerrytown’s Braun Court that sustained and nurtured the local LGBTQ community through myriad social, political, and legislative ups and downs. They bought businesses and buildings over time, served on nonprofit boards and other organizations, and even became friendly with one-time Democratic presidential candidate Howard Dean. In March 2019, the married partners sold the business to Ann Arbor-based BarStar Group. The privately held entertainment investment company specializes in the development, design, construction, and operation of hospitality and mixed-use real estate projects. Through the deal, BarStar also acquired the Braun Court buildings that house Spiral Tattoo, the Jim Toy Community Center, and the former Common Language Bookstore. The news was tough to hear for /aut/Bar’s tight-knit community, but that was nothing compared to the announcement on June 6, 2020, that BarStar was closing the venue for good. “Despite the countless hours dedicated to building, strengthening and reimagining the bar’s future, the financial impact of the COVID-19 crisis has proved — as it has for so many small businesses across the country — to be simply too much to bear,” read the owners’ statement on Facebook. BarStar also owns the local clubs Nightcap, Lo-Fi, and Babs’ Underground. “I don’t have much to say about the decision to close because we haven’t been part of it,” Orr says. “I understand people’s sadness, anger, and frustration because we need these safe spaces now more than ever.” He remembers the day before /aut/BAR opened, when a friend asked, “So, are you ready to be community leaders?” At that time, gay bars served as places where people gathered not just to meet and party, but to launch fundraisers, find listings of memorial services, and sign up to be a buddy to someone who had HIV or needed support. “In Ann Arbor, we had none of that,” Orr says. “If someone ‘disappeared’ from the scene for a few weeks, you’d wonder, ‘Did he move? Or is he dead?’” All that changed once /aut/BAR opened it doors. Instead of a dark and secret hideway, /aut/BAR was bright and warm. The windows were uncovered, the colors were bright. And the brunch was fantastic. Its “niche” was the whole community, from the shy college student who was just coming out, to the lesbian couple with a young family. “We wanted people to know we were in it for the long haul,” Contreras says. That long haul included countless celebrations, protests, Pride events, election parties, engagements, marriages, and memorials. All the while, Orr and Contreras grew into their roles as advocates and activists for LGBTQ rights. Even now, as the club is closed and the community is dispersed due to coronavirus, Orr continues to encourage what Armistead Maupin would call his “logical family,” reminding them they are part of something bigger than just a building. BarStar turned over the club’s social media accounts to Orr and Contreras so the community could remain connected in the digital space. As Black Lives Matter protests filled the June streets that normally would be rocking Pride parades, Orr took to Facebook to point out the intersections between the groups. He changed the June mantra of “Happy Pride” to “In Pride we stand with you.’” “There are plenty of black leaders in the LGBTQ community, and let’s not forget Pride began as a riot at Stonewall, largely started by people of color and transgender folks,” he says. It’s that kind of empathy and compassion that has informed everything Orr and Contreras have done as business owners and community leaders. Success to them is hearing that /aut/BAR was someone’s first gay club after coming out; that a couple met there and has been married for years; or that a student brought their parents to brunch to introduce them to a community that celebrates the lifestyle, not denigrates it. To honor the club’s historic significance to the LGBTQ community, BarStar is returning the brand name, intellectual property, and vintage signage and décor to Contreras and Orr. They hope someone will emerge to take up the torch they carried for so long. In the meantime, listen in, as the partners reflect on their careers.

Coffee enthusiasts tend to be ritualists. They favor specific brands, prefer certain mugs, and practice a daily routine that borders on obsession. It’s all about that steaming, aromatic brew. It’s even more than that for Lisa Bee, BA ’90, who co-founded Sweetwaters Coffee & Tea with her husband, Wei Bee, BA ’90, in 1993. “I really love the warmth of all the people in the cafe and seeing how the cafe has become a part of everyone’s life,” Lisa Bee says. “It’s a community gathering place and I’ve gotten to know a lot of our guests over the years. I really love to see them.” Those customers, including the daily regulars known as “the Breakfast Club,” first appeared at Sweetwaters’ Washington Street flagship store nearly three decades ago. The company’s married entrepreneurs shared a common background in the restaurant business, wanted to work with people their own age, and were not cowed by hard work. They’d patronized coffee houses during their student years and knew they could bring something unique to the market. “We realized the kinds of teas people were exposed to were limited compared to what we were used to in Chinese culture,” Bee says. “We are always on the lookout for products from Japan, Korea, Vietnam. A lot of our products are Asian-inspired. It’s offered us a lot of creativity.” The Sweetwaters menu always has offered low-sugar treats with a real-ingredient focus, she says. “We knew we wanted to have a family and I never wanted to say to my children, ‘You can’t have that.'” Today, the Bees have three sons, two U-M graduates and a teenager in high school. All three boys have worked in the family business at various points. Sweetwaters has 29 stores in multiple states from Texas, Tennesse, and the Carolinas to New Jersey, Ohio, and New York. Once, Bee says, she received an email from a customer delighted to order Sweetwaters’ ginger-lemon tea in some faraway state. “It’s always nice to have a little piece of your college life wherever you are,” Bee says of her own alumni audience. The newest cafe recently opened in the renovated Michigan Union in early 2020 — in a space previously “owned” by Starbucks. Winning the contract was a professional thrill, but also a personal one, Bee says. “We were students here, sitting right here, and now we have a business here,” she says. “We had our sons come down for the opening. It was just as strange for them too, to be part of the businesses [in the Union]. But they love it.” The plan was to add 20 more stores by year’s end. But that was pre-COVID-19. Since mid-March, Sweetwaters has temporarily shuttered a number of stores, converting others into pick-up locations with limited hours and curbside service. The corporate office remains operational as the company adapts to the new normal, including a mobile app to expedite online ordering. The app includes a feature that allows customers to donate funds toward food and beverage trays that support frontline workers. “It’s been a really nice way to see the community come together to support us and the frontline workers who are supporting the whole community,” Bee says. For now, she closely follows Gov. Whitmer’s announcements and looks for alternate ways to serve her Sweetwaters family. When possible, the cafes act as small pantries, selling alternate milk products, coffee, loose-leaf tea, toilet paper, and other basic items. Mail-order is doing a robust business; delivery service is on the upswing as well. “It’s definitely a challenge but entrepreneurs tend to have a fighting spirit,” Bee says. She looks forward to the day when restrictions are lifted and the Breakfast Club can once again convene in her cafes, showing up like clockwork and engaging in their daily rituals. Being there for them is her ritual, after all.

On a springtime afternoon in 1924, Minerva Moffett walked across the street from her Kalamazoo home to check on her elderly neighbor. Forcing her way into the house, she found Madelon Stockwell Turner, 78, dead on the kitchen floor. She died alone, a recluse in a stately home that was one of the grandest in the city. Her death made headlines for two reasons. She was believed to be the richest woman in Kalamazoo. And a half-century earlier, she was the first woman to enroll at the University of Michigan. Read the story at michigantoday.umich.edu. Listen in, as Baylor Professor Andrea Turpin reveals the forces at work that led to co-education at the University of Michigan, starting with Madelon Stockwell. Turpin's book is titled "A New Moral Vision: Gender, Religion, and the Changing Purposes of American Higher Education, 1837-1917 (American Institutions and Society)."

At the Bentley Historical Library on the University of Michigan's North Campus, history is packed in thousands of sturdy boxes of brown cardboard. Each box is 15 inches long, 12 inches wide, 10 inches deep — big enough to hold a couple thousand pieces of paper and often a surprise, a mystery, or at least a string of tantalizing clues to a story. The papers of Arnold Gingrich, BA ’25, are stored in 25 boxes of correspondence and memorabilia from Gingrich’s long career as co-founder and editor of Esquire magazine, a touchstone in American popular culture. The other day, two of us asked for Box 1 — marked “Authors — Special” — to see what we would find. Soon we were peering into the workaday lives of two giants of American literature — Ernest Hemingway and F. Scott Fitzergerald. Both were steady contributors to Esquire in the 1930s. Both became friends of Gingrich’s — of a professional sort, anyway. But the papers tell two such different tales. Listen in, as Tobin and Michigan Today editor Deborah Holdship stitch together a narrative based on the interesting finds inside one nondescript box. Read the whole feature at michigantoday.umich.edu.

U-M Women's Head Basketball Coach Kim Barnes Arico is a pragmatist. Theory and abstract principles serve little purpose when you spend your adult life as a working wife, mother, daughter, and coach in college athletics. Make that elite college athletics. Barnes Arico is U-M’s ninth head coach of the women's team. In her early years as a coach at St. John’s University in Queens, N.Y., she and her husband negotiated a mutually beneficial deal that created much-needed balance. In a rare role reversal (that has since proved to be a smashing success), Barnes Arico’s husband took command of the family’s household and childcare duties. That agreement allowed the rising coach to focus on “her girls” at work and on her family at home. “There are certain things you can control,” Barnes Arico says about life and athletics. “And effort is one of them. You can’t control the outcome, but you can definitely control the effort at which you play.” In this episode, Barnes Arico reflects on the tragic death of Lakers legend Kobe Bryant and his daughter Gianna in early 2020. She ponders the nature of female athletics in light of Bryant's support and emphasizes the need for strong, powerful women to mentor more strong, powerful women. Read the extended feature about Barnes Arico at michigantoday.umich.edu.

Scan a list of architecture terms and you will find delicious words like balustrade and bousillage, jack arch and jettied story. There’s pergola, saltbox, and poteaux-en-terre. But soul? Couldn’t find it among the technical vocabulary. And yet it was the Michigan Union’s very “soul” that was at stake when the administration decided to renovate, rehabilitate and make over the 100-year-old building, which has been in continuous use as a student union since opening its doors in 1919. Listen in, as we get back inside the building after 18 months. Read the complete story, "This is how you 'capture space'" at michigantoday.umich.edu.

Visitors to U-M may have seen him around the Law Quad or behind Martha Cook. He wears a brown leather jacket, hangs a camera around his neck, and carries a bag of peanuts everywhere he goes. Corey Seeman is director of Kresge Library Services at the Michigan Ross School of Business. That's what he gets paid to do as a University employee. But he's also an artist, and he's found his oeuvre here on campus. Seeman usually is surrounded by a friendly crew of "tamed-up" squirrels happy to sit for his camera, climb up his leg, and indulge in any and all treats he has to offer. Since 2008, Seemnan has taken at least one photo per day of a Michigan squirrel (and generally waaaaaay more), faithfully loading the images to Flickr and sharing with fellow squirrel aficionados. Most of his subjects shelter in cavity nests in trees, but some can be found in the nooks and crannies of campus buildings. Sometimes you’ll find Seeman on the Diag coaxing a mood from an Eastern fox squirrel – those are the bigger more petlike ones. Or you might see him by Mason Hall feeding medicated pecans to a little guy with mange. Campus also is home to the Eastern gray -- which sometimes appears black -- and the red squirrel. Each is more photogenic than the rest. But his favorite is the three-pawed Lefty, who never disappoints. "It's always a lucky day when I see her," he notes. Listen in, as Seeman shares the reasons behind his fascination with the small creatures and why they create a “happy diversion” in his life. We chatted in the Michigan News Studio and then took a walk on campus where the intrepid photog shared his favorite spots. (Hint: Martha Cook is a rocking spot. Especially during mating season!)

What better time to catch up with the University of Michigan Marching Band (MMB) than on the eve of the infamous rivalry game against Ohio State (at home) on Nov, 30, 2019? The game marks the last home football contest in Michigan Stadium for the decade. MMB director John Pasquale has been in charge of these marching musicians for about 12 years now, following in the hallowed footsteps (bootsteps?) of legendary predecessor William Revelli and his successors. Dr. Pasquale is a tuba player with three college degrees, and though his only other professional gig was teaching public school outside Dallas, he was made for the MMB. As an international conductor, author, and lecturer, Dr. Pasquale holds the Donald R. Shepherd Chair in Conducting at U-M. He teaches classes in rehearsal pedagogy and aural analysis of ensemble sound. As the especially "weather-centric" 2019 football season comes to a close (torrential rainstorms, blizzards, etc.), we decided to crash a practice and get a tiny little taste of life in the MMB. We've done plenty of deep and broad stories about the band's history and legacy. This one is strictly for fun. Pure sugar. Hope you enjoy. Find more podcasts at michigantoday.umich.edu/category/topics/podcast/

In this episode, you will meet assistant professor and U-M carillonist Tiffany Ng in her private concert hall high atop Burton Memorial Tower. In addition to conducting research and teaching, Ng presents two 30-minute concerts per day on the University's two grand carillons, one on Central Campus, the other on North Campus. Ng, who holds degrees in musicology and new media, loves to experiment with sounds and musical genres. Her goal from high above the campus is to expose faculty, staff, and students to the music of living, new, and underrepresented composers, especially women. She will be on a faculty fellowship in the near future, but will be back to ring your bells before you know it. Read more at michigantoday.umich.edu

As the legendary music festival Woodstock marks its 50th anniversary in 2019, those of us who were not there often are left wondering, “Was it really that good?” With each milestone anniversary since 1969, a new edit of the film appears, another audio collection arrives, and a fresh slate of cultural criticism arises to ponder this mythic and magical event. How much is truth, and how much hyperbole? Due to the capricious human memory, we may never really know. In this episode of “Listen in, Michigan,” we hear from Mark Clague, associate professor of musicology, American culture, and African American studies at U-M’s School of Music, Theatre & Dance. Among his many passions is “The Star-Spangled Banner,” which ties neatly into Woodstock lore, thanks to Jimi Hendrix’s rousing psychedelic rendition of our national anthem. Clague’s insights illuminate the cultural significance of that performance; he also focuses heavily on the Woodstock documentary, which is far more than a concert film (Warner Bros.) It’s a story of triumph, he says, as America’s youth demonstrated the power of peace and cooperation. The airwaves throughout the month of August were jammed with programming to celebrate Woodstock, the festival, and Woodstock, the film. Here's one more piece to add to the mosaic.

The University Musical Society now offers playlists on Apple Music and Spotify. Eric Woodhams, UMS’ senior director of digital strategy, says we’re in for some adventurous listening, amazing guest-curated tracks, and endless surprises from the UMS Rewind archives. UMS is a revered institution among fans of classical music, jazz, chamber music, dance, and more. It’s one of the oldest performing arts presenters in the country, and hosts as many as 75 performances and more than 100 free educational activities each season. With Hill Auditorium as its home base, UMS has brought the most breathtaking array of artists to Ann Arbor since its debut in 1879. Famed opera singer Enrico Caruso has come to campus, as well as composer/conductor Leonard Bernstein, dancer Merce Cunningham who performed with John Cage, American soprano Leontyne Price, mezzo soprano Cecilia Bartoli, big band leader Benny Goodman, pianist Vladimir Horowitz, and so many others. Now UMS is taking its rich history to the digital audio space. Woodhams is creating UMS playlists (ums.org/playlists) to keep fans – near and far – engaged with the kind of stellar content UMS presents. The initial lists showcase Chamber Arts, Jazz Masters and Piano Solos – so good. In July 2019, UMS uploaded a playlist of "moon" compositions in honor of the 50th anniversary of man's first walk on the moon. Going forward, Woodhams plans to ask musicians and other artists to curate their own lists to share with fans their personal favorites. The artists featured in this episode are Snarky Puppy, Tarek Yamani, Emerson String Quartet, and Vivaldi's "Four Seasons" as recomposed by Max Richter. See the Episode Notes for more details.

Bassist and local jazz enthusiast Dave Sharp has found a new groove on Main Street as musical director of the Blue LLama Jazz Club. The elegant new venue already has hosted such artists as Ravi Coltrane, Joey DeFrancesco, and Kurt Elling.

Meet U-M senior Lauren Schandevel, creator of the online guide "Being not-rich at U-M." The crowd-sourced Google doc surpasses 100 pages and has hundreds of contributors who sign in to pass along financial tips, life wisdom, and practical advice to low-income students like herself.

Join us in the Vault at U-M's Bentley Historical Library, where precious University documents and cultural artifacts are stashed. You would not believe what's in here: items, correspondence, and other items related to everyone from Lyndon B. Johnson and Martin Luther King to John Lennon and Alfred Hitchcock.

At Listen in, Michigan, you may hear revered University of Michigan scholar Ralph Williams quoting Shakespeare, alumnus and composer Albert Ahronheim deconstructing ‘Let’s Go Blue,’ or raconteur John U. Bacon talking sports. With this 25th episode of the podcast, we showcase some of our favorite segments from the last 24! Enjoy!

He was brilliant, brave, and curious — and his tale unspools like a thrilling mystery. Architect Raoul Wallenberg, ’35, protected thousands of Jews from the Nazis in World War II. And then he disappeared off the face of the earth.

Filmmaker Dan Chace, BA ’83, shares the labor of love that manifested as a beautiful documentary about beloved Wolverines football announcer Bob Ufer. The film is called "Footballs's Valhalla: The Bob Ufer Story."

Good news! Your 1968 photo of RFK is on the cover of a 2017 bestseller. Bad news: It’s credited to someone else. Listen in as Michigan Daily alumni Andy Sacks and Jay Cassidy take you back to Spring 1968 when RFK campaigned for a presidential bid in Detroit. As student photographers, Sacks and Cassidy captured some of the last images of Kennedy before he was assassinated several weeks later. Flash forward to 2017, and Sacks discovers one of his photos from that day is on the cover of an RFK biography by MSNBC's Chris Matthews. And the photo credit reads "Bill Epperidge."

Raconteur John U. Bacon, BA ’86/MA ’94, regales the listener with tales – heartfelt and hilarious – culled from a 25-year career covering sports. His book "The Best of Bacon" features “select cuts,” showcasing Michigan heroes Bo Schembechler and Jim Abbott, as well as Detroit legends Ernie Harwell, Joe Louis, and more.

In this episode, we chat with Susan Pile, U-M’s senior director of university unions and auxiliary services. She is managing the 20-month renovation of the beloved Michigan Union, but fear not: She is fiercely protective of its legacy.

Zingerman's Bakehouse co-owner Frank Carollo, BS ’76, celebrates 25 years in business with a gorgeous cookbook rich in history, humor, and of course, those precious how-to's. You can practically smell the bread baking as Frank shares his love of one of Ann Arbor's most precious resources.

From dinosaurs to dioramas, U-M holds some 25 million specimens and cultural objects in more than 20 distinct museums, libraries, and collections. Listen in, as we ‘meet’ some of the explorers who amassed this expansive archive.

Student organizations at U-M may be sublime (Solar Car) or ridiculous (Squirrel Club). Either way, the students who manage them are extraordinarily bright, motivated, and accomplished. Meet them on the Michigan Diag in this raucous episode.

Composer/arranger Jerry Bilik, BMus ’55/MMus ’61, takes you inside the Michigan Marching Band. He’s the artist behind some of their most beloved classics. Plus he's a huge Beatles fan.

The Michigan Theater Foundation’s Lee Berry, BA ’78/MBA ’99, previews the new-and-improved State Theatre. At the time of the recording, the theater was still under renovation. It's quite spectacular now!

Gail Offen, BGS ’78, takes foodies on a tasty trip through A2 past and present, from the Del Rio to Pizza Bob’s, from Drake’s to Le Dog. Her book "Iconic Restaurants of Ann Arbor" is filled with local history and wonderful anecdotes.

Investigative reporter, civil rights advocate, and U-M journalism instructor Will Potter talks propaganda, dissent, and a free press that is anything but an ‘enemy of the people.’ Preach, Will.

Bentley Historical Library Director Terrence McDonald examines the creative (and often conflictual) tension that has long existed between U-M and its constituents.

U-M’s bicentennial (2017) is upon us. What better time to celebrate the legacies and achievements that make Michigan what it is? Hear from U-M historians Kim Clarke and Gary Krenz. They will regale you with trivia that will entertain your alumni party guests. We promise.

Author and U-M professor Heather Ann Thompson, BA ’87/MA ’87, delivers the first definitive history of the 1971 Attica prison uprising and its devastating aftermath.

Executive coach Fritz Seyferth, BSIOE ’73, shares lessons learned from mentor Bo Schembechler on how to build and lead great teams. He should know. He played for Bo and worked with him for many years.

Imagine Mark Twain’s iconic ne’er-do-well as the high school counselor who launched your career. LA native and Emeritus Professor Larry Goldstein shares some of his poetry about Los Angeles and tells the story of how child actor Tommy Kelly (who once played Tom Sawyer in the movies) set him on a writing and teaching path that would have made Aunt Polly proud.

Professor Ralph Williams reflects on “the American project,” the pursuit of happiness, and the future of the human race. Williams is a beloved and highly revered professor at U-M and an expert on Shakespeare and world religions. Plus he has the most majestic way of speaking. Listen in!

A rambunctious war of words is raging on the political front line while U-M’s No. 1 debate team reaps the spoils here at home. (This is a conversation with U-M debate expert Aaron Kall, and we recorded it during the Republican candidates' debates prior to the 2018 presidential election.)

It’s short. It’s sweet. And it can really swing. But the origins of “Let’s Go Blue” were anything but simple. Listen in, as arranger/composer/musician Albert Ahronheim deconstructs one of the most legendary sports anthems ever.

Author and Michigan Daily alumna Stephanie Steinberg shares tales from her book about the history of the Michigan Daily and recounts the high stakes and high jinks of life as a college newspaper reporter. Plus: Peace Corps at 55.

Sure, we know the War of 1812, but how about the War of 1817? It happened right here at U-M – in 1929. Listen in, as James Tobin recounts more bizarre history of the University. Later in the episode we hear from Aaron Dworkin, former dean of the School of Music, Theatre & Dance.

Jim Tobin, PhD ’86, proves truth is more poignant than fiction in Michigan Today’s new audio feature, “Listen In, Michigan.”