Mental Health | 7
Opinion | 8
Religion | 8
Lifestyle | 9
Learning to fact-check your fears
Does politics belong in the church?
Spring forth: Following Christ in and out of the tomb
The 'deinfluencing' movement
April 3, 2024 Collegedale, Tennessee
Southern Accent
Vol. 79 Issue 21
The student voice since 1926
The wedding bell toll: Students lose church subsidy after tying the knot Gabriella Grundy Staff Writer
Landon and Sailie Asscherick were married in December 2023. Both believe that the NAD should reconsider its policy of ending subsidy for students who get married. (Photo courtesy of source)
“Southern Matrimonial College” has been a parody used for Southern Adventist University over the years, likely due to high expectations of finding a spouse during one’s time on campus. In some cases, students even marry before they graduate. In the United States, about 7 percent of all college undergraduates are married, according to an article by Campus Explorer, while about 3 percent of Southern undergraduates are married, according to Chris Hansen,
director of institutional research and planning. However, for students whose parents work for Adventist institutions, marrying before finishing a bachelor’s degree may not be worth the loss of subsidized tuition. According to the North American Divison’s (NAD) 2023 Remuneration Scale, “Dependent children of full-time denominational employees (as defined by the NAD Tuition Assistance Policy) who are attending denominationally owned and operated schools [can receive] up to 70% of tuition and required fees for
dormitory students, and 35% of tuition and required fees for non-dormitory students.” When students receiving subsidies get married, they no longer qualify for this benefit. Michael Rumsey, associate director of Student Finance at Southern, said, “Educational subsidy is a benefit that parents receive and use for their [dependent] children, and this benefit comes from their employer or conference. Those employers or conferences do not offer this benefit to their See SUBSIDY on page 2
SonRise touches thousands: The impact and evolution of the annual pageant Anaya Parker Contributor When the local Easter pageant, SonRise, started on Southern Adventist University’s campus 28 years ago, it attracted around 2,000 people, according to Ed Wright, who served as senior pastor of the Collegedale Church of Seventh-day Adventists at the time. On Saturday, the annual tradition continued, this time drawing more than four times the amount
Collegedale News on page 5 School voucher program: Friend or foe? City government embraces #transparency County approves Thrive Senior Living
of individuals who attended the first pageant. SonRise staffers counted 8,146 tickets at this year’s SonRise finale, a resurrection scene recurring throughout the day in Iles P.E. Center. SonRise is an interactive experience that takes visitors through the final moments of Christ’s time on Earth. Saturday’s event was the 27th such Easter production put on by the Collegedale Church of Seventh-day Adventists and the university. The entire program is free of charge, though tickets are required. SonRise debuted on April 6, 1996, as an evangelistic effort to share the gospel with community members. The production was first directed and inspired by then student Heather Aasheim Hilliard who envisioned staging an Easter pageant similar to one she saw at an Adventist Conference. Wright returned this year as director of the production. In an interview with the Accent, he reminisced about how it all started. Wright said, “[Heather] came up to me at that spring concert and just said, ‘Hey, I [have] this idea. What do you think?’”
He considered the conversation an answer to prayer, and the rest is history. “I just thought it was a great way for us to focus on Christ’s resurrection,” Wright said during the interview. “As Adventists, historically, we have not done that. We are so afraid that that is going to lead to some Sunday worship thing that we have kind of shied away.” Sherrie Williams, who has served in several directorial positions for SonRise over the years, wrote a brief history of the pageant, citing many of the significant changes and describing the event’s growth since its inception. According to Williams’ records, the first SonRise began at 9:30 a.m., with seven programs and 400 tickets available for each showing. The following year, the church offered 10 shows, with 450 tickets available for each. Attendance rose from 6,000 in 1999 to 9,000 in 2000. By 2004, 8,000 tickets were gone in 48 hours. The number of volunteers and people involved also continued to grow. In 1997, over 300 people participated in SonRise, and that number doubled by 2006.
SonRise actors travel toward the resurrection scene. This year, the annual pageant saw its highest attendance numbers post pandemic. Saturday, March 30, 2024. (Photo by Preston Waters)
Despite its popularity, the pageant has had its share of challenges. The first year, SonRise was nearly canceled due to rainy weather. Another year, a tornado touched down the morning of the production, yet that did not stop the program from continuing. Since 1996, SonRise has only had to move programs inside once due to rain.
“I’ve often thought that God must have His hand on it, because many times the weather forecast right up to the day of [the event] was not good,” Wright said. “We have seen clouds go around us and heavy weather in Chattanooga, but not here.” SonRise also has undergone several changes over the years, See SONRISE on page 2
Southern celebrates From Golden State to gravy land: 10 years of Giving Day Westerners shocked by ‘Southern’ living Satire
Eliana Morales Staff Writer Southern Adventist University’s 10th annual “Giving Day” starts today. What originally began as a small Giving Tuesday initiative has grown into a twoday event that raised $422,768 last year, according to Southern’s 2022-2023 Annual Report. This year’s fundraising blitz will continue Thursday. Sandra Araujo-Delgado, annual giving manager, stated, “Giving Day serves two purposes: [One is] to amplify the needs of our departments to alumni and invite them to support. The other purpose is very much for the campus and students, which is to increase their awareness and invite them to participate if they so choose.” “This is the one time of year we invite students to participate [in giving],” said Araujo-Delgado. “It’s a very fun environment, kind of gamified; it’s competitive between departments.” Students can help their own academic departments reach their Giving Day goals. Each department’s campaign is listed on Southern’s website. Some of this year’s projects include equipping the School of Business’ new facility, building simulation labs in Miller Hall for the School of Nursing, funding a mission trip for the School
of Journalism and Communication and replacing old anatomy models for the Biology and Allied Health Department. “These are projects that are not in the budget, but we can make them happen on something like Giving Day,” said Araujo-Delgado. “The impact of Giving Day on students is immediate, such as being able to enjoy upgrades on equipment or scholarships that weren’t available before.” According to senior health science major April West, Giving Day helps provide for her department, the School of Health and Kinesiology. Even if students cannot contribute financially, they can still See GIVING DAY on page 2
A poster for this year's Giving Day. The fundraising event began 10 years ago as a Giving Tuesday initiative, but it has grown into a two-day event.
Mk Palaris Contributor, Criterion Disclaimer: The events, individuals and quotes included in this article are entirely fictitious and have been created for the purpose of humor. Southern Adventist University recently introduced an unprecedented exchange program within the country, in which multiple students from the Golden State of California spent one semester completing their units in the rural state of Tennessee. Initially, the program was understood as an attempt at cultural immersion between the two contrasting states; an interview with the program’s executive board members, however, revealed its true mischievous intentions. “Honestly, we thought it would be really funny to deprive Californians of the sun and their weird food,” the executive board said. Amidst the program, several participants sought (read: begged) to share their experiences. A majority of students experienced some degree of culture shock, whether it was mountains of gravy drizzled on comfort food or constant complaints of the nearest ocean being 500 miles away in this landlocked state. Nonetheless, they all shared a sentiment of
appreciation for the welcoming nature of Southerners. Francisco, a self-proclaimed hippie and urban studies major, shared his first impression of Tennessee. He had anticipated it to be unsuspecting and perhaps a bit boring; little did he know that his expectations were about to take a wild turn. “Dude, literally my first day, I saw the wildest thing: So I was heading to my culinary class to share an avocado toast recipe with my classmates,” Francisco said. “Then, I kid you not, the first thing I see when I stepped out of Talge? A pair of standing pants! I thought I was going insane.” Despite his initial skepticism from this whimsical prank, Francisco eventually found himself drawn to the hospitality of locals, who welcomed him with enthusiastic “Howdy!”s.
“Don’t tell my friends this, but I much prefer the warmth of Southern folk,” Francisco admitted. “I might even start adopting ‘y’all’ into my daily vocab, at this rate.” For Beverly, a fashion design major, the stark contrast between California’s perpetually sunny skies and Tennessee’s unpredictable weather was a rude awakening. “I thought rain was just a myth; I haven’t seen it in person since I was, like, nine,” she mused. “But it wasn’t just like culture shock; Tennessee sent me into hypothermic shock! It was like, I’d say around, 80 degrees? It was so cold, like, I had to wear two layers so I wouldn’t freeze to death. Like, I don’t even want to think about it reaching sub-40 degrees.” See WESTERNERS on page 2
California exchange students, who live on avocado toast, began calling Tennessee “gravy land.” (Photos sourced from Unsplash)