Latest news with #UniversityofKansas
Express Tribune
16 hours ago
- Business
- Express Tribune
Seven years after kate spade's suicide, best friend elyce arons shares their story
Spade, known to close friends as 'Katy,' died by suicide on June 5, 2018. Arons met Spade when they were freshmen in college, and their friendship blossomed into a business partnership that helped build the iconic Kate Spade brand. The memoir offers a rare glimpse into their personal connection and Spade's private struggles, which Arons describes as 'a permanent ache.' In an excerpt published by PEOPLE, Arons recalls visiting Spade's Park Avenue apartment days after her death. The once bright and meticulously kept home was dark and chaotic. As Arons opened the closet door to retrieve clothes, a swarm of moths flew out. She instinctively yelled, thinking Spade might be playing one of their old pranks. The moment underscored the painful reality that her friend was truly gone. Their story began in 1981 at the University of Kansas and continued through the rise of their handbag business in the '90s, alongside Spade's husband, Andy, and partner Pamela Bell. The brand's success grew quickly, leading to CFDA honors and global expansion. Despite professional triumphs, Spade's private life became more complex. After launching a new brand, Frances Valentine, in 2016, she died two years later. Arons admits she's still processing the loss. 'Those who loved her continue to grapple with her loss, seeking peace with a decision that left lasting heartbreak,' she writes. Her message now is simple: cherish the people you love and never take their presence for granted. We Just Might Make It After All will be released June 17 and is available for preorder.
Yahoo
2 days ago
- General
- Yahoo
KU professor joins lawsuit to pressure New Jersey to allow DNA testing of Lindbergh evidence
Jonathan Hagel, an assistant professor of history at the University of Kansas, is among plaintiffs in a New Jersey lawsuit filed to compel opening of a documentary archives tied to the kidnapping and murder of aviator Charles Lindburgh's son. Hagel and other researchers seek permission to expose certain documents to modern DNA testing. (Submitted) TOPEKA — An assistant professor at the University of Kansas is a plaintiff in a New Jersey lawsuit seeking modern DNA testing of state archive materials tied to the kidnapping and murder of the infant son of trans-Atlantic aviator Charles Lindbergh. The 200-page Mercer County Superior Court suit was filed amid controversy about decisions by New Jersey State Police to block access to the case archive. The plaintiffs — KU historian Jonathan Hagel, author Catherine Read and retired teacher Michele Downie — said their Open Public Records Act request related the 1932 kidnapping was rejected. Hagel, a New Jersey native who has studied the Lindbergh case, said DNA analysis of ransom notes or envelopes could contribute to understanding whether Bruno Richard Hauptmann, who was executed in 1936 after convicted of first-degree murder, acted alone in the high-profile crime. It is among questions that have riveted scholars and investigators since Hauptmann's trial. 'There were more than a dozen ransom letters overall, and they were sent through the post,' said Hagel, a New Jersey native who has studied the Lindbergh case. 'If Hauptmann's DNA is on it, then he definitely is not innocent of being involved. But, if there is other DNA, that would confirm other people's involvement.' Twenty-month-old Charles Lindbergh Jr. was abducted from the family estate near Hopewell, New Jersey. The family was contacted through ransom notes and parcels, and a demand for $50,000 was paid. The toddler's remains were subsequently discovered adjacent to a roadside several miles from the Lindbergh home. 'There are those who think we're likely to find Charles Lindbergh's DNA on the materials,' Hagel said. 'They believe there was some kind of accident, and he orchestrated this as a way to deflect responsibility.' At least one previous lawsuit unsuccessfully sought to compel New Jersey to allow DNA testing of documents associated with the case. A state appellate court said New Jersey law didn't guarantee a public right to physically examine archive materials. In 2023, the State Police said access was restricted to preserve contents of case files. 'My take is that states or police organizations, like any bureaucracy, just like to protect their stuff,' Hagel said. 'There are others who think the state police are embarrassed they may have botched it quite badly and been involved in a railroading.'
Yahoo
4 days ago
- General
- Yahoo
‘My stomach just dropped': foreign students in panicked limbo as Trump cancels visa interviews
Students around the world who were gearing up to study in the United States this fall face growing uncertainty after the Trump administration temporarily halted student visa appointments this week. On Tuesday, a state department directive ordered US embassies globally to immediately stop scheduling visa interviews for foreign students while it prepares to implement expanded social media screening for all international visa applicants. While interview appointments that were already scheduled can proceed, the announcement sparked panic among students who have yet to secure interviews. Students who spoke with the Guardian expressed anxiety over delays in visa processing that could jeopardize scholarships, on-campus housing, their ability to start classes on time – and their very academic futures. 'My stomach just dropped,' said Oliver Cropley, 27, a student at the University of East Anglia in the United Kingdom, who is meant to attend the University of Kansas beginning this August for a year abroad. Related: Unions representing Harvard workers fear Trump's 'authoritarian turn' The directive came amid a series of recent policy shifts targeting international students at US universities. This week, the Trump administration issued new measures targeting Chinese students, announcing it would focus on the visas of those studying in 'critical fields' and of students with ties to the Chinese Communist party, and implement heightened scrutiny for all future applicants from China and Hong Kong. Last week, the Department of Homeland Security said it would immediately ban Harvard University from enrolling international students, forcing the university's international student body to either transfer or leave the country. A federal judge blocked that effort on Thursday, but its long-term outcome remains uncertain. The changes have left many international students who are planning to come to the US for the 2025-2026 academic year scrambling and in limbo. Cropley said that he paid all of the application fees for the US visa including the last administrative fee last week to schedule his visa interview, but he has been unable to schedule it or reach anyone at the US embassy. 'I was looking forward to Kansas. I love America, the wildlife, the culture,' Cropley said 'It has demoralized me,' Cropley said. 'It's a stressful enough process, and then to get this sort of knockback at this stage … I'm supposed to be there on August 4.' The scholarship he received to go study in the US is also now in flux, he said, as it is contingent on him traveling. As he awaits updates from the US embassy, Cropley said he is exploring his options – inquiring about the possibility of re-enrolling at his home university in the UK and completing the year there instead of in the US. But he said 'it's quite late' to be picking classes and modules and finding accommodation. 'I'm sort of stuck in between the two different universities with no guarantee of getting into either,' Cropley said. 'Essentially, it's just a waiting game.' Another UK student, who has been accepted to Harvard for the fall, told the Guardian that they were in 'disbelief' over the administration's attempt to block Harvard from enrolling international students. Related: China condemns US decision to revoke student visas 'In your head, you have the next kind of five years knowing where you'll be, and then suddenly, overnight, that changes,' they said, speaking anonymously out of fear their comments could affect their visa approval. The student said that their visa interview was already scheduled when the directive was issued, so they hope their interview is still going ahead. The recent decisions by the Trump administration 'raise a lot of uncertainty for the future', they said, adding that the situation at Harvard feels 'very fragile'. 'We may still be able to go, but at any moment, that could change,' they said. 'And if you're going to this place, to do work, but your mind is consumed with a fear of how grounded you can be, will things change, that's also difficult to deal with.' They said that if they get their visa, they still plan on enrolling at Harvard. The Guardian last week invited scholars in the US and students poised to study in the US to share their experiences navigating the Trump administration's recent actions targeting higher education. More than 100 people responded, many saying they were reconsidering their academic future in the country. Several international students who wrote in declined follow-up interviews with the Guardian, citing fear of repercussions. Alfred Williamson, a Harvard undergraduate from Wales in Denmark for the summer, told Reuters this week that he fears he may not be able to return to the US. 'We're being used like pawns in the game that we have no control of,' he said. 'We're being caught in this crossfire between the White House and Harvard, and it feels incredibly dehumanising.' Some universities have advised students who are already enrolled not to leave the US for the summer in case they won't be allowed back. There are currently more than 1.1 million international students in the US, comprising about 6% of the US higher education population, according to the Institute of International Education. They typically pay two to three times the tuition of domestic students, and for the 2023-2024 academic year international students contributed $43.8bn to the US economy, according to Nafsa. In a court filing on Wednesday as part of a Harvard lawsuit against the Trump administration's efforts to ban international students at the school, Maureen Martin, Harvard's director of immigration services, described 'profound fear, concern, and confusion' among students and faculty as a result of the action. Faculty and administrators, she said, have been 'inundated' with inquiries from current international students about their status and options, and several foreign consulates in the US have contacted the university seeking clarity on how the policy affects their nationals who are enrolled. Martin said that many international students are experiencing 'significant emotional distress that is affecting their mental health and making it difficult to focus on their studies'. Related: Fear on campus: Harvard's international students in 'mass panic' over Trump move Some, she said, are avoiding graduation ceremonies for fear of immigration action, while others have canceled travel plans due to concerns they might not be allowed back into the US. 'Too many international students to count' have inquired about the possibility of transferring to another institution, she said. Martin said that several current Harvard visa holders have also faced increased scrutiny at airports. The Guardian reached out for comment to a number of universities with large foreign student populations. Most said they were monitoring the situation and would do what they could to support their students. 'We have a robust set of resources for our incoming and current international students, as well as contingency plans for those who might experience disruptions to their learning,' said Renata Nyul, the vice-president for communications at Northeastern University. A spokesperson for Arizona State University, which has more than 17,000 international students, said that the university is 'monitoring the situation closely and remains committed to fully supporting all international students in completing their degree programs'.
Yahoo
28-05-2025
- Business
- Yahoo
How a Recession Might Tank American Romance
Life was bleak, bleak, bleak: Soup-kitchen lines ran for blocks. Teenagers walked across the nation on foot, looking for work. Parents fashioned cardboard soles for their children's little shoes. This was the Great Depression, and Americans were suffering. But many of them did have one thing to look forward to: dating. Young people still went to movies and dances; they shared ice-cream sundaes or Coca-Colas. (They called the latter a 'Coke date.') Not everyone could manage such luxuries, Beth Bailey, a University of Kansas historian and the author of From Front Porch to Back Seat: Courtship in Twentieth-Century America, told me. But for those who could, she said, the rendezvous were a 'respite from all the grimness.' Even in this country's darkest economic times, romance has offered a little light. In the 1930s, more jobs opened up for single women; with money of their own, more could move away from family, providing newfound freedom to date, Joanna Scutts, a historian and writer, told me. Nearly a century later, a 2009 New York Times article cited online-dating companies, matchmakers, and dating-event organizers reporting a spike in interest after the 2008 financial crash. One dating-site executive claimed a similar surge had happened in 2001, during a previous economic recession. 'When you're not sure what's coming at you,' Pepper Schwartz, a University of Washington sociologist then working for told the Times, 'love seems all the more important.' Now, once again, people aren't sure what's coming at them. Many consumers have been rattled by the Trump administration's erratic trade policies. And although the chances of an actual recession have declined since the president eased off some of his more aggressive tariff positions, J. P. Morgan Research still estimates the possibility at 40 percent. Meanwhile, the United States is facing another kind of recession: a romance recession. Marriage rates are going down; the number of single adults is going up. Based on trends from past eras, one might expect economic unease to give the dating market a jolt. But the way people view romance has shifted dramatically since 2008. Americans today may not be as likely as they once were to seek solace in love. This time, if an economic recession is coming, it might make the romance recession even worse. Dating has always been expensive. Going out to a restaurant or bar or movie theater costs money; getting there might require a car; taking someone home is trickier if you can't afford to not have roommates (or if your roommates are your parents). Some people still prioritize romance in rocky times—but a lot of Americans these days are letting financial anxiety deter them. In 2022, surveyed single people about how inflation and economic uncertainty were influencing their love lives; nearly half of respondents said they'd refrained from scheduling a date in order to save money. In a 2024 poll from LendingTree, an online lending marketplace, 65 percent of participants said inflation had affected their dating life; 81 percent said they believed that dating might be easier if they had more money. In some sense, sure, dating is easier if you have more money. But wouldn't someone with less money be more intent on finding a partner to struggle alongside? [Read: How to prepare for a recession] Today, maybe not: People might want to weather the storm before searching for love. As the sociologist Andrew Cherlin has argued, marriage was once seen as a step toward adulthood; spouses strived to build a future—and a flush bank account—together. Now, more often, marriage is seen as the culmination of the maturing process: a 'trophy' earned once you've figured out everything else—including your finances. In one recent study, researchers asked participants making different incomes how much they desired a relationship and how ready they felt for one; six months later, they checked in to see whether those subjects had started dating someone. Johanna Peetz, a psychologist at Carleton University in Ottawa who worked on the project, told me that she and her co-author thought a higher income might make single life easier and more fun—and partnership seem less necessary. In reality, the participants making the least were the ones who viewed coupledom as only a distant priority, and who were less likely to enter a relationship. They seemed to 'really want a stable base,' Peetz said, 'before they start looking for a partner.' Something else has changed too. More people, stressed about their finances, may now see romance not as a fun distraction or a balm, but as a stressor in itself. Economic insecurity, researchers have found, tends to make people more risk-averse. That might not affect your dating game if going out with someone doesn't feel so scary, or if you're nervous but expect that the butterflies might lead to something beautiful. Today, though, people may be more wary of letting other people in. In recent years, researchers have clocked a growing discomfort with emotional intimacy and a drop in social trust. In 1972, the first year the General Social Survey was conducted, 46 percent of participants in that poll agreed that 'most people can be trusted'; earlier this month, Pew Research Center reported that, in a poll it conducted in 2023–24, only 34 percent of people said the same. Straight people might be especially hesitant to put themselves out there. Suspicion between men and women seems to be on the rise. The Survey Center on American Life found that from 2017 to 2023, the number of women who said they feared being sexually assaulted had increased steeply. And a lot of women, for various reasons, really are having bad romantic experiences; in a YouGov poll from February, 44 percent of men said they'd been on a 'terrible' date—while 57 percent of women said the same. Many of them might want to depend on a partner. They also might doubt that dating will yield one, at least not easily. For young adults in particular, an economic recession could be a disaster for romance. Gen Z is, overall, a financially anxious cohort. Leading up to the 2024 election, young adults across races and party affiliations rated inflation as their top concern. In the aftermath of that election, I talked with Meghan Grace, a co-author of Generation Z: A Century in the Making, and she summarized what she sees as this group's consistent, underlying concern: 'I just want to feel safe.' That attitude applies to finances but also to romantic risk. In a 2023 survey from the dating app Hinge, more than half of Gen Z users said they'd let the fear of rejection hold them back from pursuing someone; 44 percent had 'little to no dating experience.' [Read: Teens are forgoing a classic rite of passage] Even if an actual recession doesn't hit, economic angst isn't likely to disappear soon. And the romance recession isn't likely to reverse itself either. The mood may remain, for a while, distinctly unsexy. 'Overall, I guess my message really is, Oh, you better buckle up,' Peetz told me. 'It's definitely not gonna be a dating boom.' Being single is expensive. But no one can will a suitable partner into existence—and making romance work really can be harder with less wealth. In studies, people perform worse on cognitive-processing tasks when their funds are low: Some of their headspace seems to be occupied by worrying. 'You need cognitive resources to take the perspective of your partner, to communicate with your partner,' Peetz said, 'and to do all kinds of things that help relationship quality.' Holding off on the slog of modern dating could mean conserving emotional and financial reserves. It could mean leaning instead on long-known loved ones and strengthening those bonds. Partnership may once have felt like a relatively safe bet in an otherwise precarious world. Now, for many people, it's just one more thing that they can't depend on. When you buy a book using a link on this page, we receive a commission. Thank you for supporting The Atlantic. Article originally published at The Atlantic
Atlantic
28-05-2025
- Business
- Atlantic
What Recessions Do to Romance
Life was bleak, bleak, bleak: Soup-kitchen lines ran for blocks. Teenagers walked across the nation on foot, looking for work. Parents fashioned cardboard soles for their children's little shoes. This was the Great Depression, and Americans were suffering. But many of them did have one thing to look forward to: dating. Young people still went to movies and dances; they shared ice-cream sundaes or Coca-Colas. (They called the latter a 'Coke date.') Not everyone could manage such luxuries, Beth Bailey, a University of Kansas historian and the author of From Front Porch to Back Seat: Courtship in Twentieth-Century America, told me. But for those who could, she said, the rendezvous were a 'respite from all the grimness.' Even in this country's darkest economic times, romance has offered a little light. In the 1930s, more jobs opened up for single women; with money of their own, more could move away from family, providing newfound freedom to date, Joanna Scutts, a historian and writer, told me. Nearly a century later, a 2009 New York Times article cited online-dating companies, matchmakers, and dating-event organizers reporting a spike in interest after the 2008 financial crash. One dating-site executive claimed a similar surge had happened in 2001, during a previous economic recession. 'When you're not sure what's coming at you,' Pepper Schwartz, a University of Washington sociologist then working for told the Times, 'love seems all the more important.' Now, once again, people aren't sure what's coming at them. Many consumers have been rattled by the Trump administration's erratic trade policies. And although the chances of an actual recession have declined since the president eased off some of his more aggressive tariff positions, J. P. Morgan Research still estimates the possibility at 40 percent. Meanwhile, the United States is facing another kind of recession: a romance recession. Marriage rates are going down; the number of single adults is going up. Based on trends from past eras, one might expect economic unease to give the dating market a jolt. But the way people view romance has shifted dramatically since 2008. Americans today may not be as likely as they once were to seek solace in love. This time, if an economic recession is coming, it might make the romance recession even worse. Dating has always been expensive. Going out to a restaurant or bar or movie theater costs money; getting there might require a car; taking someone home is trickier if you can't afford to not have roommates (or if your roommates are your parents). Some people still prioritize romance in rocky times—but a lot of Americans these days are letting financial anxiety deter them. In 2022, surveyed single people about how inflation and economic uncertainty were influencing their love lives; nearly half of respondents said they'd refrained from scheduling a date in order to save money. In a 2024 poll from LendingTree, an online lending marketplace, 65 percent of participants said inflation had affected their dating life; 81 percent said they believed that dating might be easier if they had more money. In some sense, sure, dating is easier if you have more money. But wouldn't someone with less money be more intent on finding a partner to struggle alongside? Today, maybe not: People might want to weather the storm before searching for love. As the sociologist Andrew Cherlin has argued, marriage was once seen as a step toward adulthood; spouses strived to build a future—and a flush bank account—together. Now, more often, marriage is seen as the culmination of the maturing process: a 'trophy' earned once you've figured out everything else—including your finances. In one recent study, researchers asked participants making different incomes how much they desired a relationship and how ready they felt for one; six months later, they checked in to see whether those subjects had started dating someone. Johanna Peetz, a psychologist at Carleton University in Ottawa who worked on the project, told me that she and her co-author thought a higher income might make single life easier and more fun—and partnership seem less necessary. In reality, the participants making the least were the ones who viewed coupledom as only a distant priority, and who were less likely to enter a relationship. They seemed to 'really want a stable base,' Peetz said, 'before they start looking for a partner.' Something else has changed too. More people, stressed about their finances, may now see romance not as a fun distraction or a balm, but as a stressor in itself. Economic insecurity, researchers have found, tends to make people more risk-averse. That might not affect your dating game if going out with someone doesn't feel so scary, or if you're nervous but expect that the butterflies might lead to something beautiful. Today, though, people may be more wary of letting other people in. In recent years, researchers have clocked a growing discomfort with emotional intimacy and a drop in social trust. In 1972, the first year the General Social Survey was conducted, 46 percent of participants in that poll agreed that 'most people can be trusted'; earlier this month, Pew Research Center reported that, in a poll it conducted in 2023–24, only 34 percent of people said the same. Straight people might be especially hesitant to put themselves out there. Suspicion between men and women seems to be on the rise. The Survey Center on American Life found that from 2017 to 2023, the number of women who said they feared being sexually assaulted had increased steeply. And a lot of women, for various reasons, really are having bad romantic experiences; in a YouGov poll from February, 44 percent of men said they'd been on a 'terrible' date—while 57 percent of women said the same. Many of them might want to depend on a partner. They also might doubt that dating will yield one, at least not easily. For young adults in particular, an economic recession could be a disaster for romance. Gen Z is, overall, a financially anxious cohort. Leading up to the 2024 election, young adults across races and party affiliations rated inflation as their top concern. In the aftermath of that election, I talked with Meghan Grace, a co-author of Generation Z: A Century in the Making, and she summarized what she sees as this group's consistent, underlying concern: 'I just want to feel safe.' That attitude applies to finances but also to romantic risk. In a 2023 survey from the dating app Hinge, more than half of Gen Z users said they'd let the fear of rejection hold them back from pursuing someone; 44 percent had 'little to no dating experience.' Even if an actual recession doesn't hit, economic angst isn't likely to disappear soon. And the romance recession isn't likely to reverse itself either. The mood may remain, for a while, distinctly unsexy. 'Overall, I guess my message really is, Oh, you better buckle up,' Peetz told me. 'It's definitely not gonna be a dating boom.' Being single is expensive. But no one can will a suitable partner into existence—and making romance work really can be harder with less wealth. In studies, people perform worse on cognitive-processing tasks when their funds are low: Some of their headspace seems to be occupied by worrying. 'You need cognitive resources to take the perspective of your partner, to communicate with your partner,' Peetz said, 'and to do all kinds of things that help relationship quality.' Holding off on the slog of modern dating could mean conserving emotional and financial reserves. It could mean leaning instead on long-known loved ones and strengthening those bonds. Partnership may once have felt like a relatively safe bet in an otherwise precarious world. Now, for many people, it's just one more thing that they can't depend on.
