Truth Matters.

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Jamie Hudalla

Jamie Hudalla has 16 articles published.

At your service

in Lifestyle by

Doug Kojetin has worked as a member of Bethel’s Facilities Management team for four and a half years, but he serves the community with more than his handyman skills. By Jamie Hudalla Doug Kojetin has green, blue, black and shiny keys. All kinds, he tells the Child Development Center kids, who have no clue what they unlock. But they like how the keys jangle, and they like “Mr. Doug” even more. For nearly two years, Kojetin has spent one or two days a week having lunch with them in their tiny red chairs. He cuts his breaks short so he can eat shredded beef tacos and read books to them about David and Goliath or the alphabet. This isn’t part of Kojetin’s job description as a residential maintenance specialist at Bethel, but he makes time for snowblowing paths for the children to walk and capping all the sharp bolts on…

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A resume of rejection

in Opinion by

From one sinker to another: just keep  failing. Maybe one day you’ll be a professional ping-ponger in New York. By Jamie Hudalla The warehouse in St. Louis Park looks like it might hang pig carcasses up on hooks or collect the ghosts of flour mill workers from 1890. My hands shake as I sit in the parking lot, but that has less to do with the warehouse and more to do with my job interview. I study who I am as I wait an hour and a half in the parking lot. What are your strengths, Jamie? Well, not driving. How do you deal with conflict? I’ve taken a reconciliation class, so, pretty well. What are your career goals? Fiction writing. Pray for me. I crack a window because I forgot to wear deodorant and it’s a balmy 40 degrees. At 1:55 p.m. I walk in the door of the…

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God knows how to headbang

in Opinion by

God shows up in more places than church pews. By Jamie Hudalla  Jonathan from Stranger Things stood maybe three inches taller than me. When he isn’t slaying Demogorgons, he drums at a hole-in-the-wall venue in London. The place felt like First Avenue, like a pocket of home after traveling for three months. I’m not a mystic, but the night’s events seemed ordained. Well, not meeting Jonathan. A few of us on England Term had stalked the crap out of his social media, found a tweet about his location, hopped on the Tube, and elbowed a mellow crowd to see him play the last five seconds of a song. But we were nestled in one of London’s unknown crevices, listening to the sleepy tones of indie-rocker Julia Jacklin, wearing jean jackets to blend in with the Brits. It felt right. Erik Leafblad, a theology professor and avid concert-goer, would refer to…

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I am woman, hear me cheer

in Opinion by

After homecoming week, I was inspired to tackle the topic of labels and how they enforce gender roles. By Jamie Hudalla | Columnist It’s story time, boys and girls. You’re about to hear a feminist rant. I reached legal adulthood three years ago, but people still refer to me as girl. It’s a term that seems tattooed onto me until I produce wrinkles and children, yet the term boy conjures images of binkies and nursery rhymes, and would never be applied to a college-aged male. This odd disparity came up once again during powderpuff practice. “Did you see the email?” my friend asked. I didn’t catch on at first. Then I checked the homecoming events update, and a few words stood out. Men’s dance. Girl’s powderpuff. I’m not accusing Bethel of misogyny or sexism or any other key word that ignites flaming feminist torches. However, I am posing a question:…

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A narrative without resolution

in News by

In the midst of relationship aftermath, the road to healing isn’t linear. By Jamie Hudalla Though I’m an expert on 20-minute relationships, I never thought he would become one. For the first time, I saw the future with someone. The future – not a future, because once it infiltrated my mind, it was harrowing to rewire a different dream. I saw a wedding, both of us wearing flower crowns because he has better hair than I do. I saw a hole-in-the-wall house with offices full of Dante and Flannery and Wiman. I saw white-blond heads of hair nestled on a couch, watching “Secondhand Lions.” It took only three months of knowing he existed, and I was sold on spending my life with him.      By now, you’ve labeled me an impulsive 21 year old. You’ve released a patronizing sigh, convinced I’ve been brainwashed by Christian culture. You’ve wondered how I…

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Nothing good happens after midnight

in Opinion by

Giving meaning to recycled advice. By: Jamie Hudalla  | Freelancer Here I am: a worldly, wisdom-laden senior writing to you so that you can successfully soak up your college experience. If you thought getting through that first sentence was hard, good luck with the next four years. If sarcasm daunts you, good luck with the remainder of this column. Though I would score low on the sentimental scale, I’ve reflected on the last three years and wondered how they slipped by without my appreciation. I’m going to unpack the things you should pay attention to, so you don’t have to write a column senior year about how you wished you learned them sooner.   If you’re a freshman, prepare to understand one-third of this. If you’re a senior, put on your rose-colored glasses and reminisce with me. If you’re anything in between, you’re metaphorically the middle child and don’t matter.…

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