Risk? Monopoly? Jenga? The Tabletop Games club moves to its new bi-weekly meeting time and location from 6 p.m. to 10 p.m. starting Friday, Dec. 2, in Benildus 101.

On election night, SFUAD students watched, waited and worried—and ate pie.

The Necessities student store returned to its previous location down the hall and around the corner from the cafeteria this year, hosting a number of innovative new features under the guidance of Student Life Operations Manager Heather “Maz” Mazorow.

Jackalope Magazine interviews consultant Charles Restivo, who is leading SFUAD’s upcoming ownership transition.

LiveSafe made its official debut at the beginning of the Fall 2016 semester, with Safety and Security Manager Larry Samuel providing demos for students at orientation.

Meet Ryan Davis, SFUAD’s new director of Student Life.

Submissions to Glyph are due by noon, Dec. 14, 2015. Students of all majors are welcome to submit up to 20 pages of work in any or all of the following genres: poetry, fiction, creative non-fiction, plays and screenwriting.

Who’s that man at the Plaza with the funny hat? If you ask him his real name, he won’t tell you. You can just call him “Doc.”

Seth Biderman picks a small, ripe tomato from a vine and pops it into his mouth. He walks down stone steps and back up a hill to Seton Castle, then sets his coffee mug down in a reinforced window among the ruins. The castle is the former home of naturalist Ernest Thompson Seton. It looks down upon the Academy for the Love of Learning, where Biderman serves as manager of the Academy’s Institute for Teachers. Biderman received his master’s degree in Creative Writing at the University of New Mexico. At the time, he thought he was getting a useless degree, and was proud to be doing so. However, he says the degree has been extremely helpful in his career. “The two things that have served me the most in my career are learning Spanish and learning how to write well. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t use my writing skills in my job.” There are two passions in Biderman’s life: writing and education. Right now, he’s got the best of both. As the newest contributing faculty member to SFUAD’s Creative Writing program, Biderman spends approximately four hours a week teaching Techniques of Fiction. The rest of his work week is spent at the Academy. Inside the building, a tiled waterfall greets visitors at the entrance. A small museum to the left is dedicated to Seton’s art and writing of Ernest Seton. A room upstairs houses a grand piano. Down the hall is a state-of-the-art kitchen. “Learning usually occurs in a bland, institutional space,” Biderman says. “Teachers come here for programs and they often ask, ‘This is for us?’” Teachers of all grade levels visit the Academy, free of charge, for a chance to revitalize their careers. In a profession known for its high burnout rate, the Academy’s programs offer teachers a new perspective on learning. A group of 12 educators meets once a month in a circle of chairs in the Leonard Bernstein room. Meditation pillows rest at their feet and a Tibetan singing bowl sits on the back table. Floor-to-ceiling windows span half the length of the room. No matter where one sits, one always has a view of the outdoors. Biderman likens the architectural features of the building to the teaching style employed. “All our rooms have an inside-outside thing going on,” Biderman says, “which mirrors the way we learn. When I learn about writing, I might get really into Faulkner for a while. That’s looking out. But then I have to come back in and ask myself, ‘What’s my voice?’” The unorthodox teaching methods at the Academy stem from the beliefs of founder Aaron Stern. In his previous work as dean of the American Conservatory of Music in Chicago, Stern began investigating the ways in which people learn. He developed a teaching philosophy of focusing more on honoring who people are and less on what we think they need to know. This lines up perfectly with Biderman’s vision of education. “I think traditional schools are on their way out,” he says. “It’s still a long way off, but I think we’ll slowly turn away from them.” A teacher who foresees the end of schools? It’s certainly unusual, but Biderman’s belief stems from what he calls the “infantilization” of teenagers. He feels that when adolescents reach the age at which they can contribute to the world, they are held back and told, “Not yet.” With programs like the Academy’s Inspire Santa Fe, teenagers get the opportunity to explore their passions before they even reach high school. SFUAD Film major William Gallegos currently mentors a student in the six-month program. While most of his time is spent working with teachers, Biderman also works with youth in his Techniques of Fiction class at SFUAD. The entry-level course instructs Creative Writing students on the basic elements of storytelling. It gives Biderman the chance to delve back...

Emily Curley hops from one foot to the other in the entrance to King Hall. “I don’t wanna do this, I don’t wanna do this,” she chants as she does her little dance. Curley is not a fan of being scared, which makes her attendance Oct. 24 in the Resident Assistant (RA) retreat to McCall’s Pumpkin Patch a personal challenge. The event is a bonding exercise. Curley says her second semester as an RA is “different overall. It’s stricter within the RA leadership. I don’t know the RAs as well.” The returning RAs did not have to take part in as much training as the new RAs, so some feel a lack of cohesion within the group. “At the same time,” she says, “there’s not one person I can’t go up to and say, ‘I need help.’” There have been many new additions to the RA team this year, including this reporter. I sometimes find it hard to blend in with a group of people 10 years younger than me. As the oldest, and one of the shyest RAs, I am happy to hide behind my reporter’s notebook. My fellow RA and Creative Writing major Maria Salazar brings along a copy of Clarice Lispector’s The Passion According to G.H. She hopes to get some homework done on the trip. Neither she, nor Curley, plan on going into the Haunted Cornfield at McCall’s. “I just want to hear people scream like little girls,” Salazar says, “and then judge them.” McCall’s Pumpkin Patch is part of the McCall Land & Cattle Company farm, owned by Kevin and Kirsten McCall. McCall’s Haunted Farm website tells the tale of farmer McCall, who butchered his family and any tourists who happened by his farm. Officials were never able to find Mr. McCall, but “some claim to see him tending the fields at night, carrying on his gruesome work.” Every October, the farm attracts families and thrill-seekers alike, who flock to the site for portraits of children amid the gluttony of gourds and shrieks and horrors within the Haunted Cornfield and Barn. As part of our RA retreat, we’ll be treading the paths of the Haunted Cornfield, which, somewhere in the planning process, we all decided was a maze. A party bus waits outside King Hall to take us on our excursion. It looks like it was decorated by Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem. Rainbow paint splatters the walls and floor. Three dance poles line the center walkway, and a DJ spins in the back atop a gale force speaker. Green lasers dissect the interior of the mobile disco and yellow and blue lights strobe at both ends. The RAs file in and take their seats in the front half of the vehicle. Student Life Operations Manager Terrance Sanders hands out Halloween-sized sacks of candy. Darnell Thomas, gray flat hat atop his head, makes his way to the back to dance to Missy Elliott’s “Work It.” This is Thomas’ third year serving as an RA. “New people come in and apply to be RAs,” he says. “As far as change, it’s different leaders and different groups of people.” He leaps onto one of the dance poles. It immediately gives way under the weight of his thin frame, and he falls to the floor. The bus erupts with laughter as we disembark for Moriarty, NM. Curtains line the windows, so the action inside is hidden from passersby. Salazar takes a break from her book to dance on one of the still-standing poles. Brendan Boyle and DeAndre Montoya join Darnell Thomas on the dance floor. At the front of the bus, we gyrate in our seats, shooting bolts of electric dance moves from one to the other, taking turns showing off our moves (of which this reporter has very few). Jasmine Man slides upside down around a dance pole while Marshall Leming and Shawn Khounphithack free-style rap to...