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Whitney Kinney relaxes instantly upon hearing the smooth and sultry melodies of John Legend's "I Love, You Love." His voice lightly croons, I'll give in completely, hearts break so easy. Closing her eyes, Kinney can see the beginnings of a choreographed lyrical Hip Hop number, complete with leaps and turns mirroring the song's emotion. Love hurts sometimes, but this feels right.

Kinney, Garden City senior, has danced to relieve stress for years, but recently found new energy and excitement in Hip Hop, which can range from aggressive, to stylistic, to modern interpretations. Kinney serves as president of the Unity Hip Hop Troupe at the University of Kansas.

"Dance is a release for me," she said. "It gets creativity out in a different way."

Since its debut more than 30 years ago Hip Hop music has served as an outlet for expression on the streets, however, it has recently been found in academic institutions. The University of Kansas is just one of many colleges- from San Francisco State to Lehigh to North Carolina Central University- that's now included Hip Hop in their academic curriculum. SFSU began teaching classes eight years ago, while Lehigh University started in 2006. Next fall the University of Kansas will offer "Popular Culture: Hip Hop" as a class in the department of theatre.

Taught by Nicole Hodges-Persley, the class will discuss the impact of Hip Hop elements like emceeing and breakdancing on society. Hodges-Persley, with breaking skills and a passion for "old school" Hip Hop, said the class will provide a historical background for the music and multiple ways it impacts American popular culture.

"I want to give students the tools to explore how music impacts our world-views," she said.

Hodges-Persley said that artists like Run DMC and Public Enemy would be used to talk about the sound and birthplace of Hip Hop as well as their impact on society. For example, Run DMC was the first Hip Hop group to endorse a major product- Adidas tennis shoes and track suits. Additionally, MC Hammer's music was used to advertise Kentucky Fried Chicken in the 1990s.

Artists like Outkast, 2 Live Crew, Ice Tea and Too Short hail from all regions of the United States, and will be placed on a musical timeline to show how Hip Hop informs, and is informed by popular culture said Hodges-Persley.

"It won't be a listening party, but music will figure heavily within the broader understanding of Hip Hop's culture," she said.

Academic Hip Hop classes first began at Howard University in 1991, but didn't increase in popularity until the early 2000s. According to a Harvard University study, over 75 Hip Hop courses were being offered in 2004. Just a year later the Hip Hop Archive at Stanford University counted 300 classes being taught across the nation.

Increasing popularity of Hip Hop classes may be due to experienced instructors. Although only 20 students at North Carolina Central University were enrolled for "Hip Hop in Context" at the start of the fall 2006 semester, word spread around campus that the course was taught by Hip Hop icons Christopher Martin and Patrick Douthit, known as "Play" and "9^th Wonder" respectively. Enrollment swelled to 60 students just days after the first session.

The University of California-Berkeley was also one of the first institutions to teach Hip Hop said Todd Barnes, a student in one of the first faculty-taught classes in 2000. Barnes, currently a graduate student in the department of rhetoric and film, now participates in the Hip Hop Studies Working Group at UC-Berkeley. The group was established in 2003 and promotes awareness of Hip Hop on campus and in the community by connecting with local Hip Hop figures.

"Hip Hop takes something familiar, traces its history, and finds its roots," he said. "It's like learning about your own culture."

With 14 years of Hip Hop dance experience, Jasmyn Leapheart, Kansas City, Kan., sophomore also sees the genre as an educational tool.

"It can help people learn things faster because it's hard and precise," she said. "It's like studying."

Leapheart said that the challenge of choreography, style and performance makes Hip Hop enjoyable. 

Sitting patiently on a black metal folding chair in front of a four-sided audience Leapheart performs with the Unity Hip Hop Troupe at KU's Best Dance Crew competition, inspired by the MTV show.

Mims' "Move (If You Wanna)" blasts through the speakers. The beat is a constant pounding, the dancers punching movements across the square stage.  Performers parade around in a musical chairs-style of prowess, battling with swiveling hips and thrashing arms. As the final beat hangs in the air the members of Unity freeze in finishing poses, relaxing only at the cheers of the audience.

 Whether it's a soft interpretive form or an aggressive exhibition, Hip Hop's emotion and expression impact Kinney and Leapheart every day as members of Unity and as individuals.

"I wouldn't be complete if I didn't have dance," said Leapheart.

  Hip Hop is inescapable: it's in handwritten lyrics, eight counts of choreography and now, in textbooks at Universities.  Through the use of music videos, guest speakers and performances, students in Hip Hop classes across the country find themselves analyzing the birthplace of Hip Hop and its evolution in modern society.

"Hip Hop is everywhere," said Persley-Hodges. "You just have to know how to see it."  

19-year-old Jodie Schutt waits behind the red velvet curtain, holding her breath. She has a few moments of darkness before the bright Las Vegas stage lights shine upon her, revealing every blemish, flaw and imperfection. She brushes back blonde crispy curls with a French-manicured set of nails. Her glossy lips part wide with a Vaseline-induced smile, gleaming white and contrasting with her bronze tan. "Smile, Smile, Smile," she chants in her head.

The music cues, blaring a synthesized pop princess mix entitled "Strut." Even rows of girls in candy-colored dresses parade forward. Jodie tilts her head back and paces confidently to her mark. She instinctually begins the synchronized moves categorized by eight-counts. The crisp choreography is the result of onstage rehearsals the past few days, and is now executed beneath a blinding spotlight casting judgment on the dozens of young women competing for the title of Miss Teen United States.

Jodie's first pageant entry came at the tender age of three, where qualification was as easy as a photo submission. Jodie's mother, Maggie Schutt, was skeptical of the "pageant people" at those kinds of competitions.
"There were all these little girls and mothers pushing them to compete," she says. "But that's not me."

Jodie walked away with a trophy, her vibrant personality catching the attention of the fashion, philanthropy and media judges. Although victorious, Jodie would neglect pageants for years, instead assuming normal childhood duties of sports and school.

Without child makeup and frilly dresses, Jodie returned to her tomboyish nature. One cold, snowy day in eighth grade Jodie went out to play at recess. While other students sledded peacefully down the slick hill, ending the ride with excitement, Jodie's finality was tragic. The sled's lack of control plunged her into a creek, where she laid unconscious in freezing water for 20 minutes.

The accident resulted in a serious brain injury, as well as months in a wheelchair. Jodie remembers the rehabilitation process as grueling.

"I had to re-teach my body how to respond to my brain," she says.

Jodie's reading comprehension was drastically altered. She had difficulty keeping up in class, and used books on tape all the way into high school. Her battle with education continues to this day.

Back in Las Vegas the swimsuit competition is set to begin. Adolescent girls race around small dressing rooms, stripping sequined gowns off of their thin bodies. They tighten the straps and elastic of spandex and nylon attire, squeezing into the miniscule vanity space required for touch-ups of foundation and mascara.

Jodie enters from stage right, clacking her clear heels on the hard floor. She plasters a smile on her face, hoping that her trusted hairspray will keep the purple and black-trimmed bikini in place. Bypassing beach chairs and popsicle-colored umbrellas, Jodie shows off her lean, 95-pound toned body. She hopes the judges don't notice her thighs, or her arms that just can't seem to sculpt right.

"There's parts of you you hate forever," she says. Those are hers. Removing the sheer, pink wrap from her waist she takes one final walk past the judges and exits into the darkness of backstage. Only one more walk to go.

Although the vigorous workouts and personal trainings of pageant preparation took a toll on her body, nothing could have prepared Jodie for the frailty that accompanied repeated rations of rice during her missionary trip to Pemba, Mozambique.

"Jodie knew no one on that entire continent when she went," says her mother, Maggie.

 Unfazed by the isolation, Jodie relished an experience unlike those of her high school friends. Her feet were stained with the red earth of the ground and her face remained plain without makeup. In the poverty-stricken country of Mozambique no gleaming sashes or tiaras were worn, only looks of desperation and hunger shone through.

Jodie took disgusting bucket showers, piled mosquito netting in layers before bed, and wore garments below her knees out of respect for the African culture. During her three-week stay she painted rooms, helped in the clinic and administered antiseptic to patients.

Although her medical aspirations have been present since the age of 10, Jodie says the trip solidified her future goal of becoming a pediatrician.

"I just want to help people and make them happy," she says.

In the dimly-lit auditorium Jodie's mother Maggie is wracked with nerves. She knows that Jodie's evening gown is a bit too long, and is terrified she'll fall.

"I was almost sick to my stomach," she recalls.

But Jodie doesn't trip, and she doesn't stumble. She floats through the man-made mist, her embroidered blue dress boldly contrasting against the starry-night stage decorations. She glides across the stage, listening for the vivacious cheers and claps from her biggest fan in the audience: her 10-year-old brother Jacob.

Unlike most brother and sister rivalries, the age difference brings Jodie and Jacob together.

"He's honestly my best friend," she says.

Next to her mother and brother sits Jodie's father Joel, a fishing, country-type man. He's the kind of guy "who would be on his deathbed and be active," Jodie says.

Jodie's pageants are "a family affair," says Maggie. Whether it's mother-daughter bonding over practiced interview answers, a father's commentary on his little girl's evening gown, or even the pride felt by a little brother looking up to his sister, Jodie's strength derives from her family's unity. But just like Jodie's on-stage persona, the harsh reality of life is often less glamorous than the crown that represents it.

As a senior at Webster Groves High School in St. Louis, Mo., Jodie's father was diagnosed with multiple myeloma, a rare type of cancer. According to the Multiple Myeloma Research Foundation, the cancer represents only one percent of all cancers in white, American men, yet it is the second-most prevalent blood cancer. Joel's diagnosis shook the Schutt family, and threw Jodie into a new adult role. She found herself getting her brother ready for school and picking him up at the end of the day. She says that the grueling process drew her and her father closer together.

After intense treatment, remission, and many rounds of family prayer, Joel is "doing phenomenal," says Maggie. Jodie says that the uncertainty of the cancer's return is scary, but she tries not to think about it.

"Fate has to do its work," she says.

Outside on the Vegas strip life is in overdrive, but inside the auditorium that holds 63 beautiful women, time stops. The waiting is the hardest part. There was the waiting before the swimsuit competition, the waiting after the parade of evening gowns, and now there is the waiting for the results. Jodie's mind goes blank.

"Did I mess up?"

"Was I pretty enough?"

"Why did I say that?"

While regrets and doubts race through her mind, the girls gather in suspense, gripping hands in gestures of commitment and competition. Silence. More Silence.

Finally Jay Joseph, pageant host and Las Vegas entertainer, begins to speak. He slides his thumb beneath the seal of the heavy envelope, ripping open the results while ripping apart hopes and dreams.

"Our second runner-up is Miss Jodie Schutt." There's applause. Encouraging shouts of approval from her proud family. Smiling graciously, she accepts her baby-breathed bouquet of roses. Jodie admits that sometimes, even the winning sash of second runner-up still feels "just not good enough."

She could've fallen apart. She could've lifted more weights to sculpt her arms, lain in the tanning bed longer for a deeper, darker color, or spent an extra $1000 on her evening gown. Winning pageants requires excess, but amid berating critiques and insecurity-provoking ratings, Jodie keeps perspective.

"I'm okay with who I am," she says.

Jodie's neatness and perfection onstage do not translate into her life as a normal college freshman at the University of Kansas. In her dorm room clothes are fighting for limited closet space, sorority-sister composites are shoved onto a bulletin board, and a wooden desk perched beneath a lofted mess of bedding reveals a laptop with unfinished homework.

There are no jewel-laden tiaras or elegantly embroidered sashes in sight.

For Jodie, being Miss Teen Missouri is an honor, but not a definition. With pageant judgment, personal struggle and family support, Jodie peels off the layers of beauty queen stereotypes as easily as she removes her sash.

"I'm just starting to find out who I am," she says.

Kansas weather can be as unpredictable as a fire's path of destruction. Because of the unusually dry winter, a burn ban was in effect for Douglas County during the week of Feb. 6 to Feb. 13. During this time residents could not burn trash, open brush piles, or grass outside.

 Dry conditions and high winds increased the number of grass fires, prompting a request for a resolution by the fire townships within Douglas County. The request was forwarded to the County Commission and implemented.

The burn ban helped relieve uncontrollable burnings and fire department responses said Jillian Blair, assistant director of the Department of Emergency Management.

"Fires don't stop at property lines or the road," she said.

Under normal circumstances, burning is allowed at all times other than during an active ban. However, specific actions must take place before burning according to Teri Smith, director of Emergency Management.

Burning should not occur if there are high winds and a lack of moisture. Those interested in burning should access The Rangeland Fire Index, which describes fire danger levels ranging from low to extreme. Burning should only take place between low and moderate levels.

The National Weather Service also assesses fire risk based on wind speed, temperature, and moisture content.

"Not everyone knows the climatic conditions that may cause fires to spread," said Rich Barr, division chief of Lawrence-Douglas County Fire and Medical Services. "People may have a perceived greater need to burn a pasture or trash than rational thinking would support," said Barr.

The station has responded to 83 brush and grass fires since Jan., 2007.

Aside from weather concerns, a burn permit must also be obtained through the city, said Smith. Permits are available either for residential burning of leaves and brush, or for the commercial burning of land clearing operations. Those planning to burn must also notify their local fire department.

Residents of Lawrence need to obtain permits, however, the University of Kansas does not because it lies on state property. Although burning is never used to dispose of leaves, which are composted, native grass areas are burned on campus in order to maintain and replenish the area, said Mike Lang, KU landscape manager.

Lang said that the native grass plantings are usually burned over spring break when students are off campus. This helps keep side-effects of the hour-long process to a minimum. A burn is not scheduled for this spring; however, this is not in response to the city's burn ban. According to Lang, the burns are conducted with the cooperation of the University Fire Marshal, KU Police Department, and Lawrence Fire Department.

University Fire Marshal Bob Rombach said that the burns take place according to a very conservative and standard operating procedure developed years ago. "These procedures have been done on a voluntary basis because the University feels it is the safe and correct thing to do," he said.

Mike Russel, director of the department of environment, health and safety, said that the scientific benefits of burning override the hazards. Side-effects are mostly due to smoke, which can cause lung irritation. "I'm personally more concerned with emissions from buses, cars and secondhand cigarettes than a grass fire," he said.

Russel said burning helps duplicate the ecosystem and spread grass. Burning also eliminates the presence of chemicals, because they aren't used to start or feed the fire. Pesticides also aren't used, helping to assure the safety of native species of the area.

 Although local burn bans have occurred in Douglas, Franklin, and Sedgwick counties, the Midwest is not a high concern nationwide. According to its Web site, the Environmental Protection Agency has implemented burn bans mainly in the Pacific Northwest region, where burning "has a long and controversial history."

Burning is mostly used for agricultural purposes in the region and creates a great amount of smoke. Stronger regulations and bans have been enforced to combat the health issues. The EPA has currently implemented burn bans for 25 Indian reservations in the area in hopes of reducing air pollution.

Arielle Martin, Barnstable, Mass., sophomore, grew up amidst the gleaming lighthouses and sturdy fishing docks dotted along the coast of Cape Cod. She lived 70 miles away from Lexington, Mass., where the Sperry Top-Sider shoe was invented but didn't own a pair until coming to the University of Kansas. She said that the standard boating and water-weathered shoes weren't popular at her high school, but she noticed sorority women wearing them at the University. "They're popular because they're trendy and expensive," Martin said.

According to the official Sperry Top-Sider Web site, the "authentic original" shoe was invented in 1935 by Paul Sperry, who used a pen knife to cut siping into the outsole of a rubber sneaker. The shoes have a non-marking sole to prevent marks on boats and have traction for slick surfaces. Despite the lack of exposure to bodies of water at the University, Sperry Top-Siders remain popular among students on the KU campus.

Kaitlin LaVigne, Orchard Park, N.Y., sophomore, said spending summers at her cottage on Lake Erie exposed her to different types of boat shoes. Like Martin, she didn't purchase a pair until arriving in Lawrence. She said that the shoes are common apparel on the boats of the Great Lakes. "They fit with the East Coast ensemble of Polo shirts and Bermuda shorts," she said. "It's just what they wear."

 

Preppiness is nothing new in terms of fashion. Lisa Birnbach's "The Official Preppy Handbook" was published in 1980 and outlined "preppy" standards of education, upbringing and fashion, including must-have items like Sperry Top-Siders. "These have been in Prep closests since sailing lessons started in sixth grade," Birnbach wrote. Martin and LaVigne both admit that their parents owned a pair of the broken-in boat shoes before they did.

Both girls also bought their first pair of Sperrys at Shark's Surf Shop, 813 Massachusetts St., the only Sperry retailer in Lawrence. Owner Chris Cox said the store has carried Sperrys for five years. He said he visited a yacht store in Newport Beach, Calif., saw the demand for the shoes and decided to introduce them to the city of Lawrence. "They were popular from the day we brought them in here and are still growing," he said. Cox said he saw a steady sales increase of about 20 percent a year in the Sperry brand until they exploded in 2007 and reached 105 percent. Cox said that usually a sales increase of 10 percent is good for the business.

Local shops that cater to popular items like Sperrys greatly benefit from being in the location of a college town with trend-following students. Shark's employee Amanda Hufford said that the preppy style of bright polos and colored shorts complements Sperrys and increases their popularity. She said that the shoes are comfortable because they form to the feet, making them wearable virtually all the time. Hufford owns a pair in tan and pink. "I'm addicted to them," she said.

According to Hufford, the most popular women's shoe sold at Shark's is the Sperry Bluefish in Linen-Oat, which features tan leather and mesh and retails for $75. The most popular men's shoe is the Sperry Billfish in tan, selling for $100. While neutral colors are the best-selling currently, Hufford said pastel-colored and plaid shoes would become more popular in the upcoming spring season.

Cox's sales percentage of Sperrys decreased from 105 percent in 2007 to 71 percent in 2008. This behavior is common in consumers' purchasing patterns according to Frank Jurden, lecturer in marketing. "Fashion-driven businesses are notoriously unpredictable," he said. "The challenge for most businesses is to build sustainable growth for employees and shareholders rather than chase fads." He said that the decrease in sales at Shark's can be applied to the rise and fall of the Innovation Adoption Curve.

The Innovation Adoption curve illustrates the steady increase of popularity of a product, rising through Innovators, the Early Adopters and peaking at the Early Majority. The natural progression of this curve is to decrease with the Late Majority and Laggards. "As new fashions come in, as the 'edge' becomes mainstream, many early proponents of a trend opt out," Jurden said.

Malcolm Gladwell, author of "The Tipping Point," sees a similar theory in the 1990s popularity of Airwalk, a shoe primarily designed for skateboarding. Gladwell says that the brand had successful diffusion- how a contagious idea or innovation moves through a population- due to its ability to "take information from a highly specialized world and translate the product into a language the rest of us can understand." The key to this success is having Innovators who are the starting point for the trends interact with heavy influence upon Connectors who spread the trend farther into the mainstream.

The Airwalk brand died after a successful run into the late '90s; however, the fate of Sperrys on the KU campus is up for debate. Cox recently signed a deal with the Sperry brand to carry the entire line of men's and women's shoes at Shark's, which features more than 100 styles for each sex. Cox is optimistic about the growth of Sperry sales at Shark's Surf Shop. "Sperrys are something that will never go away," he said.