"Nothing to Lose, Everything to Gain"
Until April 5, senior Thawab Shibly was adamant about avoiding talk of the future. Unsure of what life would entail after graduation, she dodged the conversation any time it came up.
Use the fields below to perform an advanced search of The Spectrum's archives. This will return articles, images, and multimedia relevant to your query.
31 items found for your search. If no results were found please broaden your search.
Until April 5, senior Thawab Shibly was adamant about avoiding talk of the future. Unsure of what life would entail after graduation, she dodged the conversation any time it came up.
Facing the crowd, Esperanza Spalding explains that her next song, "Hold On Me," depicts some rather hard times in life. Her advice to the crowd to deal with such times is repeated through her mantra: "I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay." But before she can utter the last "okay," a shrill female voice from the audience interrupts her repetition.
Anticipation is heavy in the air as kickoff approaches. The excited crowd is loud, but the sound soon disappears. People have appeared on the field and they command attention. Donning uniforms of black and blue, they assemble into perfectly even positions.
Junior Mitchell Roy-Raia appears calm and stress-free as he sits outside the Student Union, basking in the bold sun. Passersby would probably never guess that just a few hours before, he was engaged in some of the most intense physical training one could imagine.
Behind the tired eyes of an ROTC cadet at 6 a.m. is the will to fight through pain and fatigue, the motivation to test what's inside, and the desire to serve something beyond oneself. Any cadet on campus can explain what UB's ROTC program is all about: becoming a leader. It's about a duty to each other and their country.
Ryan Adams took a break from canoeing when somebody called out excitedly. A group of dolphins appeared in the water not too far from his group and Adams, at the time a junior mechanical engineering major, dove into the water to swim towards them. Adams was able to take a picture with one of their fins before they swam away.
The floor of the basement is sticky from beer and the black lights – intended to create a club-like vibe – illuminate two cobwebbed laundry machines positioned against a far wall.
On Main Street last Friday night, a group of hulking men stood outside a bar. Their muscles bulged and their breath hung visibly in the cold air as they surveyed the scene: a long line of people against the building's side, most of them students with hopeful looks in their glassy, inebriated eyes.
As they crept around the premises of an abandoned Lockport warehouse, the only audible sound was of snow crunching beneath their feet. Though signs warned against trespassing, three UB students were too intrigued by the post-apocalyptic scene to back away from the debris and decrepit mechanical parts littering the floor.
Thousands of miles above land, the wind's howl was deafening.
Empty coffee cups litter the floor of Health Sciences Library as people overcrowd a small table cluttered with books on anatomy, physiology, and nursing. They have virtually no time to hang out with their friends. Their only time to relax is the constant bathroom breaks forced on them by the extreme amount of liquid caffeine running their system.