Hide Ya Kids — Not so serious approach to a very serious story
I don’t think this topic is funny whatsoever. What makes this story come across as comical is the tone of Antoine’s voice when he says, “Hide ya kids, hide ya wives, and hide ya husband.” The way he delivered that line caught everyone off guard, and it quickly turned into a viral moment. People started repeating it, turning it into memes and remixes, but in reality, the situation he was describing was very serious. I think that’s what makes this story so complicated — people laughed at the delivery, not the message or the fear behind it.
I honestly feel like the news station chose to focus on Antoine because of the shock factor. The media often gravitates toward whatever will pull in the most views, and Antoine’s emotional, animated reaction did exactly that. They knew it would get people talking, sharing, and tuning in. It’s sad, but that’s how a lot of stories are handled today. Rather than focusing on the actual crime or the safety of the community, the spotlight shifted to the interviewee because he stood out and brought attention to the broadcast.
Even though the coverage blew up online, I don’t think it violated the SPJ Code of Ethics. The interview didn’t seem staged or manipulated — it looked like an honest, unrehearsed reaction from someone who had just experienced something terrifying in his own neighborhood. The reporters didn’t appear to mock him or twist his words, they simply aired what he said. If anything, the public’s reaction afterward did more harm than the news station itself.
So overall, while the video became famous for comedic reasons, I think it reflects how modern audiences consume media, not an ethical failure by the journalists involved.
Beyond the Surface: What Feminism and Beauty Really Mean
Both Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s “We Should All Be Feminists” and Cameron Russell’s “Looks Aren’t Everything: Believe Me, I’m a Model” make powerful points about how society defines people—especially women—and how those definitions hold us back. Adichie explains how girls are taught to make themselves smaller, to be ambitious but not too ambitious, to be likable but never assertive. We grow up hearing mixed messages about what it means to be “enough.” Her message is simple: feminism isn’t about anger or superiority—it’s about fairness. It’s about freeing both men and women from the narrow boxes society places them in.
Cameron Russell takes that same honesty and applies it to beauty and privilege. She admits she “won the genetic lottery,” yet points out how looks are a form of currency that come with both benefits and pressure. She exposes how the modeling industry sells an illusion—perfect lighting, editing, and angles—and how people mistake that for real confidence. Russell’s talk reminds us that appearance doesn’t equal worth, and beauty can easily become another trap built on unrealistic expectations.
What connects both talks is the idea that image and identity are constructed. Adichie calls out gender roles that limit our potential, while Russell reveals the false perfection that media sells. Both challenge us to look deeper—to value honesty, intelligence, and individuality over surface-level approval.
For me, these talks go hand in hand. They remind us that confidence isn’t about fitting the mold—it’s about breaking it. Feminism and authenticity belong together because they both fight the same thing: the need to perform for acceptance. When we stop trying to meet society’s idea of who we should be, we finally make room to become who we really are.
It’s Not Just a Game: The Politics Behind the Players
People love to say sports bring everyone together — that they’re “just a game.” But the truth is, sports reflect real issues in our culture. From Native mascots to sexism and homophobia, what happens on the field mirrors what’s still wrong off it.
Let’s start with Native American mascots. My girlfriend of 3.5 years happens to be First American, she’s Blackfeet and Shyann Aribhio. In her eyes, it’s just sports teams capitalizing on her culture and family’s likeness, and she finds it offensive. Some people claim these mascots “honor” Indigenous people, but most Native voices say otherwise. Turning real cultures into logos and costumes is disrespectful and outdated. Teams like the former Washington Redskins and Cleveland Indians finally changed their names, but it took years of protests to make that happen. If we truly want to show respect, we should listen to Native communities and stop using their identities as entertainment.
Women in sports still face the same uphill fight. Even with Title IX, they’re paid less, get less media coverage, and are often judged more for their looks than their skill. I think of Caitlin Clark, her record-breaking college career brought huge crowds and TV ratings. For once, it seemed like there was real interest in women’s sports. But the fact that her success is treated like an exception shows how far we still have to go. The U.S. Women’s Soccer Team had to sue just to be treated equally, and women journalists still face harassment and doubt. It’s frustrating because women have already proven they belong; it’s time they’re treated that way with fair pay and genuine respect.
Homophobia also lingers, especially in men’s sports. Many players still hide who they are because of outdated ideas about masculinity. Only a few, like Carl Nassib, have come out publicly. Meanwhile, women athletes such as Megan Rapinoe show what true acceptance and leadership can look like. Teams need to go beyond performative support and actually create inclusive, safe spaces for everyone.
In the end, sports show who we are as a society. If we want them to represent unity, then we need to change what’s behind them — retire harmful mascots, support women, and make space for all identities. That’s when sports will truly be more than just a game.
Representation and Responsibility in Media
The Finkbeiner Test is a checklist for journalists to make sure they’re not being biased when writing about women in professional fields, especially science. To pass it, the article has to focus on the woman’s actual work — not her family life, appearance, or how she “balances” everything. It’s basically about giving women the same serious coverage that men automatically get. Their success shouldn’t be treated like a surprise just because they’re female.
The Bechdel Test is kind of the movie version of that idea. A film passes if two named women talk to each other about something other than a man. Sounds simple, right? But you’d be shocked how many movies still fail it. Take The Dark Knight — it’s an amazing movie, but every woman’s storyline ties back to Bruce Wayne. Compare that to Hidden Figures or even Barbie, where women actually have their own goals, conversations, and impact. That’s when you start to see real progress in representation.
I think the same standard should apply to how we portray people with disabilities, unhoused people, or those from lower social classes. Too often, media makes them into “inspiration stories” or tragedies instead of showing them as real people with voices and opinions. The film CODA nailed that — it showed a deaf family living, laughing, and arguing like anyone else. Same with Lead Me Home, which told the stories of unhoused people with empathy, not pity.
Fair and accurate representation starts with actually listening. Journalists and filmmakers need to talk with people, not just about them. When stories are told with honesty instead of stereotypes, that’s when people start to understand each other for real.
Buc-ee’s and the Art of the Billboard
The other night, I was driving back from Austin late at night, and I couldn't help but notice how well Buc-ee's advertises on their billboards. So I decided I wanted to do a blog post about this topic. Billboards have been seen as outdated and "Old-School," but in my opinion, as long as we have to drive on the freeway or 35, we will always use billboards as advertising. I work at Robson Ranch, and they even have a billboard. Seeing Buc-ee's ads along the highway reminded me that billboards can be just as eye-catching today as they were decades ago — you just have to be clever about it.
Billboards are extremely effective if they are used correctly and stay relevant, and Buc-ee’s did just that. With Gen-Z slang like "Slay," "Beaver fit check," or "It's giving potty time," these billboards seem to be catered to younger audiences, making people in my generation smile while our parents squint and wonder if they’re being trolled or taught the new lingo! Some billboards are simple, some are hilarious, and some are downright ridiculous, but all of them grab your attention. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t notice a Buc-ee’s sign as soon as it appeared on the horizon.
Buc-ee’s reportedly spends upwards of $30 million a year on its billboard campaigns, which is wild when you think about it. But it makes sense — the investment pays off by creating buzz, brand recognition, and a little roadside joy. My personal favorite is the one in the middle of Airzona/New Mexico — a simple Buc-ee’s logo with a U-turn symbol and 979 miles. It’s clever, minimal, and makes you actually stop and think, or laugh, as you drive past. Another one I love says “Beaver Nuggets Inside,” making drivers grin no matter what kind of day they’re having.
The bottom line is that billboards aren’t going anywhere. As long as people are driving and looking out their windows, they’re going to notice. Buc-ee’s shows that with humor, creativity, and understanding your audience, even old-school advertising can feel fresh, exciting, and totally shareable. I honestly can’t wait to see what they come up with next.