Tiffany O'Neil, a Southern University undergrad student with fiancé, Nathan Prince, and dog, Mickey in their home. Photograph by Tabitha Austin

What’s in a marriage?

Sociologist Andrew Cherlin calls it “the capstone experience” of one’s life. LSU graduate instructor Jensen Jeung argues that “much of how we conceptualize marriage and families are social constructions … we create the meanings.”

We have created many meanings. Within marriage we find pageantry, genealogical associations and the like. But if we take a holistic approach, we find something more.

Life is change in motion. Time would stop without change. People change, as do the bonds between them. The institution of marriage is the interaction of these adaptations. Its meaning is a moving target, complex and variable, much like those who find themselves in its throes.

Looking Back

To unwrap the meaning of marriage, it’s important to know where it came from. History tells us the earliest humans married out of necessity, often banding together with other tribes and even intermarrying to strengthen their chance of survival. We still have the same basic needs, but surviving today has become a more complicated affair.

Jeung often teaches from Cherlin’s book, “Public and Private Families,” which depicts the 20th century as a major turning point for the institution of marriage.

As technology improved through the early 1900s, so did our need to flock to it. We saw a cultural shift from rural to urban areas. Industrial capitalism promised a more automated lifestyle. The ensuing improvements to an electronic society made life more convenient, and we began considering marriage differently, down to its fundamentals.

Jeung says the emphasis used to be placed on male authority, with strict conformity to social norms. Romantic love was not as important, and one certainly saved sex for marriage, as it was seen only as a means of producing children. Males were the heads of the households, and women were submissive. If one was unmarried, he or she may have been viewed as “defective” or living an incomplete life.

The 1950s ushered the baby boomer generation to the peak of the self-explanatory “breadwinner-homemaker” model. The ones you see from “The Golden Age of Television.” Automobiles were mass-produced, people started moving around and the courtship process expanded to include dating. Teenagers became more susceptible to premarital sex as they found more freedom from their parents, Jeung says.

Harsh Dissanayake, chemical engineering undergrad, uses Skype to stay in touch with his fiancée. Photograph by Tabitha Austin

Modern Marriage

“Public and Private Families” tells us when these teens grew up, so did the concept of marriage. The new “companionate marriages” placed greater “emphasis on affection, friendship and sexual gratification. Every parent thereafter was raised in the dating system, which became less connected to marriage through the 70s.”

Women more frequently pursued their educations, tilting the balance of gender power in their favor. An increase in pre-marital cohabitation, in tandem with women entering the workforce by the droves, caused both marriage and divorce rates to rise. It also served as catalyst for the upheaval of the traditional marriage construct, Jeung says.

Today’s “individualized marriage” focuses on self-development, flexible roles and open communication. This can reveal life paths previously impossible when considering the potential of the Internet’s intricately-woven human network. Partners may even skip the marriage process entirely, opting for a “union” or simply cohabitating. Why do people still marry at all?

The Free & The Brave

There must be some reason. According to Cherlin, 90 percent of Americans still tie the knot. Formalizing the link with a ring, he notes, lessens the fear of abandonment and permits enforceable trust.

Today, it’s become common for both spouses to have jobs. This “dual-income earning” model allows couples to pool their resources, an option that requires boundless faith and trust, but one Jeung says is all but necessary to sustain a family at the high cost of living comfortably.

Bethany Berry acknowledges this within the context of her arranged marriage, but doesn’t find it the only route to a healthy, successful relationship. Berry is a 30-year-old University of Houston graduate of Nigerian descent with a degree in special needs/deaf education. She’s planning for graduate school at LSU to concentrate on religious studies. She’s 21 years younger than her Caucasian husband, whom she didn’t meet until their marriage.

Berry was Muslim at the time they were married. Her husband was Christian. She felt an arranged marriage “was the only way to go,” as do many women within Islam. Berry converted to Hinduism afterward. She says the change caused some grief around the holidays, but likens the change to a face-lift, where the spouse may “get used to the new person you’ve become. It allows you to explore new dimensions of each other’s self.”

Berry is a staunch supporter of the breadwinner-homemaker model. She works at Jimmy John’s, a sandwich chain on Perkins Road.

“In my marriage, I’m the only one working and my husband stays at home. I would prefer it to be me staying at home, but right now the economy favors women working more so than men.” Berry’s husband, Matt, was laid off three days after Christmas, “so we just decided to change roles,” she says.

Alex Romero, fashion merchandising junior, expresses that marriage has become a grey area in society. Photograph by Tabitha Austin

Alex Romero is a fashion merchandising junior at LSU with another flexible perspective. “I think even traditional marriage has lost its way,” Romero says. He finds TV shows are good signifier of modern culture and sees some disquieting trends among them.

“It should be a covenant between a man and his wife, but now you have marriage shows where they compete to throw the most lavish wedding,” he says with concern. “Where are the values in that?”

Romero spoke further on parental roles within modern gay marriages, saying, “I know there is a lack of a mother/father figure in a gay couple household, but that isn’t to say that a gay couple cannot raise beautiful children who will make a difference in this world.” Romero said. “It’s all about the values one has to pass on to their children that makes the difference and what they teach their kids.”

Berry and Romero aren’t the only ones with unique takes.

Tiffany O’Neill knows what it’s like to be different. The 19-year-old Southern University student is daughter to a black mother and white father. She is currently engaged to Nathan Prince, a Caucasian graduate student at LSU. Her parents’ mixed marriage continues to help lay the foundation for her own, and their warmth cannot be overstated for a couple who anticipates a frigid reception from others.

“It was a fight for them to even get married,” O’Neill said of her mom and dad. “No one told them what it was going to be like. It was special for us to know we could call someone who went through a similar experience. Love is supposed to be so simple – the purest and simplest thing we have – and it’s a shame when people have to fight about wanting to love each other,” O’Neill said.

Cherlin discusses cohabitation before marriage in his book, a decision it says can raise the chances of a pre-marital break-up. O’Neill understands the risk involved and remains assertive in her commitment to what marriage represents.

“No matter the good or bad times, rich or poor, if you’re going to marry someone, that person becomes your number one,” O’Neill said.

For others, marriage is a spiritual rite, bearing the fruit of a meticulous group effort. Harsha Dissanayake, a 22 year-old from Sri Lanka is studying chemical engineering at LSU while his fiancée Dhanushya Amaratunga remains at medical school in Sri Lanka, a predominantly Buddhist society. The two hope to marry and cohabitate after graduating.

“Back in the day,” Harsha recalls, “the parents pretty much decided everything. They’d talk with the girl’s parents and look at the astrological side of the relationship. How can they relate here, you know? How do they match up?”

While the groom-to-be says couples today enjoy greater autonomy in the decision making process, he faithfully seeks his parents’ counsel because “they’ve gone through it all, and they know what it takes to work long-term.”

Getting hitched may have health benefits, too. As reported in recent literature, Jeung tells us, being married causes people to feel better and live longer.

“Sure, at first it may be based on physical attraction, but after several decades, you’re left with what’s inside. What do you see?” Harsha rhetorically asks. “People need to get their reasons right.”

We may all be in different situations, but our ideas may overlap. If O’Neill really is right, and love really is supposed to be simple, Berry may have found it in abundance.

“At the end of the day, I can come home and I have a nice face that is happy to see me and is interested in knowing what I did during the day. It’s nice to know that someone cares what goes on in my life and what happens. And living with them is a plus,” Berry says.

I Now Pronounce You…

At times we forget marriage wasn’t always like it is today. There are also no guarantees it will stay like this forever. We must not view this evolution of marriage as a digression. It’s just a change, a reflection of our mercurial culture. Sometimes we don’t recognize the changes right away. The point is to not pigeonhole ourselves into a certain rationale toward marriage, as history shows us its fluid nature.

As life paths open for us, we’re encouraged to become our own people. Time only moves forward and gracefully carries those most adaptive to its subtle contours. If we can do that, and be honest with who we are, Jeung concludes, we may find today’s individualized marriage creates the possibility of a fuller life and a more equal partnership for both spouses.

Photograph courtesy of Darrell Bezet.

A 54-year-old man rolls around on the red bricks in front of the glass of Mike the Tiger’s habitat. He ignores the smudges that appear on his khaki slacks from the water leaking out of Mike’s pond. Mike VI, the Bengal-Siberian mix that resides on LSU’s campus, watches from atop a rock near his pool.

Mike’s regal head leans toward the ground as he stalks forward. Mike watches as the man wobbles precariously, steadied slightly by the use of a black cane. His eyes follow him around one of the habitat’s pillars as he disappears from sight. The tiger’s head drops another couple of inches as he lifts his paws to move closer and closer to this man.

Suddenly, Mike runs and leaps as the man peers around the next pillar, jumping and pawing at the net that confines him.

“That’s my buddy! I love you, too! That’s my buddy!” the man shouts, giggling loudly and pawing right back at Mike.

Darrell Bezet is not a shy man. This is the kind of guy who calls everyone “bay” and keeps cat food in his car for strays he sees at gas stations. Accessorized by a thatch of thinning brown hair, dark Ray-Ban sunglasses, a downward curving mustache and that ever-present black cane, Bezet proudly displays a shirt his sister-in-law made for him. Embroidered in gold thread, the black shirt designates him “Darrell, Tiger Whisperer.”

Made famous on campus through YouTube and word-of-mouth, Bezet is an early-morning staple at Mike’s habitat.

“I say he’s my tiger and I just let LSU take care of him,” Bezet says as he circles the habitat. “I try to come every day … I was sick for three days … I had Mike withdrawals. I finally made it here on the third day, and he was so ecstatic. He was like, ‘Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for you.’ And I felt the same way.”

Bezet came to see Mike for the first time about a year ago — a time he recalls as especially difficult. After getting in “a stupid little fender bender wreck,” Bezet began feeling pain throughout his body. A doctor soon discovered a four-inch long bone spur threatening to sever Bezet’s spinal cord.

“I worked in nursing [and] took care of quadriplegics. And I thought, ‘Oh my God, there’s no good deed goes unpunished. Since I cared for quadriplegics, now I’m going to be one,’’’ Bezet recalls. He was living alone and in constant pain when Bezet says he had a life-changing experience.

Mike VI responds to Darrell's commands as much as any domestic house cat would. Photograph by Erin Arledge

“I was home praying, just praying and praying and a voice spoke to my heart … the voice said, ‘Come on, we have to go now,’” Bezet says. That voice, which he recognizes as “when the Lord spoke,” directed him to immediately leave his one bedroom shotgun home in Spanish Town — where he still lives with three of his own cats. When he drove away Bezet “didn’t know where [he] was going” but soon found himself on Nicholson Drive.

“I thought, ‘Well, Lord, there’s nothing here but Mike the Tiger,’ and he said, ‘That’s right, that’s where we’re going,’” Bezet explains. So he pulled his white Lincoln Towncar into the lot by Mike’s habitat, and there was the tiger — waiting.

A corrective surgery took care of the bone spur, but Bezet continues to live in constant pain due to other health issues, which causes him to take narcotic medication daily. He altered how he takes his medication so he is able to play with Mike every morning.

“Mike is such a blessing, and I know with all my heart he is a gift from God,” Bezet will say to anyone who will listen, and lots of people have. Though Mike has other loyal friends who visit as often as Bezet does, Bezet is quick to say that he knows he’s “number one on [Mike’s] list.”

Bezet has made other new friends in his visits to Mike, even from outside the state. One woman, a gospel singer from Florida, heard Bezet’s story. She saw videos on YouTube of the connection between the two friends and drove all the way to the University to see Bezet in action. She shared her own story with Bezet before returning home to Florida.

“She was telling me about how she was left behind a house in a basket under a tree. I just looked at her and said, ‘God leaves some of his most precious gifts in broken vessels,’” Bezet remembers fondly. “Tears were just streaming down her face because I touched her so much.”

Darlene Woodford, a Baton Rouge resident who met Bezet at Mike’s habitat, has become an avid fan as well.

“This tiger just relates to him so well. Mike knows his car. It’s like therapy for [Bezet]. It’s not a bad thing for the tiger,” Woodford says. “One time he came in the afternoon, and that’s when Mike sleeps in the corner. There were people in the corner calling and as soon as [Bezet said], ‘Hey buddy,’ boom! He’s right up.”

Most people, like Woodford, have usually responded well to Bezet’s visits, Bezet says. When he arrives, shouting and pawing at the glass toward Mike, crowds will usually form.

On Friday, February 19 Darrell Bezet comes as close as he ever will to petting his best friend Mike VI. Photograph by Erin Arledge

“It’s almost like a circus act, and that’s not what I want. It’s about Mike loving me,” Bezet says. “I tell everybody when they come out here and they see me playing with him. I encourage them, just talk to him. I say, ‘You’ve got to talk to him.’ He understands more than you realize.”

Mike certainly does understand Bezet. On a recent afternoon, Bezet instructed Mike to bite his toy tire, and Mike grabbed it with his teeth, tearing and biting. Bezet then asked him how high he could climb, and Mike pattered over to the center support pole to climb and jump upon it. Other visitors stood nearby in wonder, snapping photos on their cameras.

“I believe Mike has a great personality, as in people. Animals all have different personalities, and Mike just has a great personality,” Bezet says.

However, the young tiger’s personality is expected to change as he ages.

“Mike is going to be five in July,” Woodford says. “When he gets to be five, he may not be as playful, but really he’s just been adorable. Like [Bezet] says, well, we’ll see.”

Dr. David Baker, director and professor of the division of laboratory animal science at the University School of Veterinary Medicine, is in charge of Mike’s care. Dr. Baker has told many of Mike’s friends that Mike will probably be less playful as he ages.

Bezet staunchly contends Mike “will always love” him.

“All I can say,” wrote Dr. Baker in an email, “is that nobody, including Mike, can have too many friends.”

TIGER WHISPERER VIDEO

TIGER WHISPERER PHOTO SLIDESHOW >>

Caitlyn and Marlee ponder the menu looking for the perfect dish. Photograph by Sahir Khan

Imagine never having contact with anyone besides your parent or guardian in your entire lifetime. For half of all intellectually handicapped people, this is a harsh reality. Caitlyn Louviere and the LSU chapter of Best Buddies are working to eliminate this reality.

Louviere serves as president of the University’s chapter of Best Buddies, an international program dedicated to providing one-on-one friendships between members of the community and locals with intellectual and developmental disabilities.

The organization was started in 1989 by Anthony Kennedy Shriver in an effort to improve living conditions for the intellectually disabled. According to its Web site, Best Buddies has an impact on about 400,000 individuals a year. Louviere took over the presidency of the LSU chapter a year ago, revamping the club from a small organization that only had six to eight matched buddies to a force in the community that boasts about 48 matched buddies.

“It’s funny because I never thought the club would be my life, but it has, and it’s a great thing,” Louviere said. Louviere first met her buddy Marlee Richterman at one of the club’s match parties, where college buddies meet their intellectually disabled buddy for the first time. Since their meeting, Louviere and Marlee have kept up a now two-year long relationship that Louviere says is “just like any real friendship.”

Once college buddies get matched with a handicapped buddy, they are required to meet up with their buddy twice a month, and call them once a week. The friendships between buddies usually grow beyond the minimum requirements, Louviere said. “It’s really cool when [college buddies] are proud of what their buddy has accomplished.”

“The handicapped buddies develop social skills to be treated as equals when they are friends with people that don’t have disabilities … when you combine the two, they learn so much from each other,” said Tiffany Rutledge, state director of Best Buddies Louisiana.

Marlee and Louviere often go out to eat, watch movies, communicate through Facebook and speak over the phone every night. “She just makes me happier – I don’t know where I’d be without her,” said Louviere. Marlee’s mother and doctors are unsure of what exactly Marlee’s condition is, but Louviere says her condition doesn’t prevent her from doing what she wants in life. “[The handicapped buddies] have something special about them just like everyone else does, and they may not be as good in other areas, but then, neither am I.”

Just like any other friendship, Marlee and Louviere’s has its ups and downs. When she first met Marlee, the biggest obstacle to overcome was Marlee’s naturally introverted nature, and Louviere initially found it hard to get Marlee to open up to her. “I realized that she really wanted to open up to me when her primary care doctor she knew since birth had died, and she called me crying,” Louviere said. Marlee’s mother apologized to Louviere, thinking Marlee had perhaps startled her, but said Marlee had only wanted to talk to Louviere about her grief.

“One thing I realized is that [Best Buddies] breaks [intellectually handicapped people] out of their shell,” Louviere said. Besides the club’s monthly meetings, Best Buddies also organizes special events such as a prom, a Valentine’s Day party, a Halloween party and the annual fundraiser Midnight Madness, a mission-based challenge in which buddies and chapter members complete tasks to raise money. Marlee doesn’t always socialize with the other buddies, but Louviere says she loves to dance and the Best Buddies prom helped Marlee interact and connect with the others in the group.

The most important aspect of the mentally handicapped community is that they are just like everyone else, Louviere said. “The biggest problem [facing the mentally handicapped community] is that people are afraid to interact with them. For the most part, it isn’t that people are trying to disrespect them. They’re just uncomfortable and don’t know what to say. The reality is that [the mentally handicapped] want to be treated like everyone else. They want to have the same conversations, they want to pay at the cash register at the grocery store, they don’t want people to finish their sentences when they stutter – they want to be independent.”

Lori Moore, program supervisor of Best Buddies Louisiana, stresses breaking down preconceived notions people may have about the mentally handicapped community.

Caitlyn and Marlee at a Best Buddies picnic on the LSU Parade Ground in November. Photograph courtesy of Caitlyn Louviere

“There’s such a stigma [about mentally handicapped people], and [Best Buddies] is trying to break down that barrier,” she said. Moore says mentally handicapped people are typically babied or treated like they aren’t capable of understanding or completing a task. “It’s not OK [to treat them differently]. The only way to learn social skills is to be treated as equals.”

Best Buddies retains a strict one-on-one policy between buddies, and buddies are supposed to get a new buddy at the beginning of every year. When she took over the club presidency, Louviere was unaware of the policy and has been Marlee’s buddy for two years. She, along with other club members who have maintained two-year relationships with their buddies, isn’t excited about the prospect of switching buddies after becoming so close with the buddy she knows so well. “Some buddies are really friendly and open up easily, but I worry about Marlee and buddies like Marlee. I’m worried about her going back into her shell.”

Maintaining the relationship with a handicapped buddy is not always easy for a college student. Louviere says the busy college schedule causes members to cancel with their buddies indefinitely, sometimes without telling Louviere.

“A lot of college kids get busy and have to tell me that they have to drop their buddy, but sometimes they don’t even let me know. I sat down and called all the buddies’ parents, and some of them hadn’t even met with their buddy more than once. What I try to reinforce is to say that it’s volunteer work – this isn’t a house or a vegetable garden; these are real people,” Louviere said.

Louviere plans to maintain her relationship with Marlee even after they switch buddies because Marlee helps keep Louviere grounded. “As a pre-med student at LSU, I’m a worry-wart and I sometimes call Marlee, and when she asks what’s wrong, and I say that I’m tired, she responds, ‘Hi Tired, I’m Marlee,’ and right away I start feeling better.”

After graduation, Louviere plans to attend medical school in New Orleans, but knows this will be harder to see Marlee as much as she does now. In the meantime, Louviere knows Marlee has changed her entire college experience for the better.

“Best Buddies in general has changed my perspective,” Louviere said. “I never looked down on people with disabilities, but I never saw them as able. [Best Buddies] has allowed me to see how very able they actually are.”

Eric Guiffreda kisses his fiancé, Caitlyn Turner, in the Highland Coffee patio. Photograph by Grant Gutierrez

Sex. Everyone talks about it, but not everyone is doing it. Tales of post-bar sexcapades may seem commonplace on our campus, but some LSU students are eliminating the three-letter word from their physical vocabulary. Abstinent students aim to enhance trust, communication and even spirituality in their current relationships without doing “The Deed.”

Abstinence is the decision to refrain from sex, including vaginal, oral and anal intercourse. The University’s Wellness Education Coordinator Ashley Granger says abstinence has a plethora of perks. It’s free. It’s safe. It’s practical. Anyone can practice abstinence — virgins and seasoned sex veterans alike.

“You don’t have to spend money on condoms and testing,” Granger said. “You don’t have to set that alarm to take your birth control.”

Communication about personal sexual limitations is essential for healthy relationships, Geanger said. Failure to communicate could confuse sexual boundaries and strain the relationship.

“If you want to abstain, you have to make sure your partner’s definition is the same,” Granger said. “You don’t want your partner to say, ‘I won’t have penile [intercourse], but you’re going down on me tonight.“

Mass communication senior Caitlyn Turner, 21, said abstinence keeps her romance with fiancé Eric Guiffreda focused on communication and emotional growth. Guiffreda, 25, is a full-time firefighter in St. Tammany Parish. The couple plans to wait until their wedding night on June 26 to have sex for the first time.

“We’re human and we may struggle, but we focus on building our relationship,” Turner said. “We are constantly learning about each other.

Turner said sharing views on abstinence was one of the couple’s first conversations. After that initial talk, Turner and Guiffreda said the pressure was off.

“I know our relationship is solid and genuine, not based on anything physical,” Guiffreda said. “She really likes to be with me because of who I am — on a deeper level.”

Although the Health Center does not emphasize abstinence, Granger said abstinence is included in health seminars as an alternative to risky sexual lifestyles.

“I don’t think we’re oversexed, we’re just talking about it more,” Granger said.

Testing for infection and disease is necessary for sexually active students, Granger said. The Health Center recommends people in monogamous relationships be tested for STIs, or sexually transmitted infections, every six months. Students with additional sexual partners are encouraged to get tested every three months. Left untreated, STIs that develop symptoms become diseases, or STDs.

Wellness Education Coordinator Ashley Granger explains the handouts in the safe sex and abstinence packets. Photograph by Grant Gutierrez

Spending on the Health Center’s low-cost testing can add up. Chlamydia and gonorrhea tests cost $14 while a syphilis test is $4. HIV testing is $15, but can be obtained for free at locations in Baton Rouge, Granger said. Prices vary each semester.

“It’s a manageable cost, but you have to keep up with it,” Granger said. She emphasized that cost of contraceptives, condoms and testing might topple a student’s budget.

Granger cited various reasons for choosing abstinence, such as religion or meditation, lack of time for sexual commitment or inability to balance the responsibility of a sexual relationship. Some students want to focus on academics, while others are waiting for a committed relationship.

However, Granger said students do not have to sacrifice affection for abstinence.

“Healthy intimacy does not have to include sex,” Granger said.

Marketing freshman Madeleine Ricks said she has chosen to remain abstinent in college because she is saving sex for someone she truly loves. Ricks said there is not enough time in college to find her perfect match, and achieving a meaningful emotional connection is easier while being abstinent.

“Love has to play a big role no matter what,” Ricks said. “Sex is not trendy, especially when it’s done out of a loving relationship.”

Ricks said her decision to remain abstinent has not been religiously motivated, but reflects her self-respect and personal values.

“I have morals for myself and I want to uphold that,” Ricks said. “I am not for sure waiting for marriage but it isn’t something I am going to give away.”

Turner, however, said she has always known she would be abstinent until marriage. She received her promise ring — a simple gold band — from her mother in high school to symbolize her commitment to abstinence. Although Turner’s abstinence ring has been replaced by her engagement ring, the meaning is unchanged.

“The ring represents my commitment to my future husband and my commitment to God,” Turner said.

Guiffreda, who also wears a promise ring, said he chose abstinence his sophomore year of high school after participating in “True Love Waits” at his church, a program that encourages youth to save sex until marriage.

“I know putting it off is going to be better,” Guiffreda said. “It’s not going to be just another night.”

Madeleine Ricks waits in her dorm room for paint to dry on her costume. Photograph by Grant Gutierrez

He said abstaining is difficult. Despite initial disbelief from friends, Guiffreda said some have confessed they would postpone sex if they had a second chance.

“It’s a natural desire, but many have fed that desire and found emptiness,” Guiffreda said. “[Abstinence] is seen as a kill-joy, but you see the [negative] effects of those who don’t wait.”

Ricks said her desire to remain abstinent contributed to a recent break-up. Although she cared about her long-term boyfriend, she said she was not ready for a physical commitment. However, Ricks said most of the pressure to have sex has come from her female friends, not from men she has dated.

“I can’t just jump into conversations [about sex],” Ricks said. “People give weird looks if I haven’t done it.”

Guiffreda said the couple’s pledge to remain abstinent enhances their trust.

He said he has heard people argue sex is necessary to ensure a couple is a perfect “fit.” However, he said having sex too soon is not a valid way to discover compatibility.

“If I’m a guy and she’s a girl, I know it’s going to fit,” Guiffreda said. “Our relationship is built on love, not on the physical.”

Even if the lovemaking isn’t the best at first, Guiffreda said that waiting for marriage is worthwhile.

“We can learn [from] each other,” Guiffreda said. “I’m not going to compare her to any other women.”

Abstinence, or no sexual contact, is the only form of “safe sex.” “Safer sex” is any contraceptive or barrier method, such as a condom, that diminishes but does not eliminate risks. STIs and STDs are still a danger when condoms or other barriers are used as primary preventatives.

Granger said the Health Center urges students to take measures for safe sexual relationships, and abstinence is among these choices. Although abstinence is the only proven method to completely protect from pregnancy, Granger said condoms and other methods of birth control can be effective if used correctly.

“Our main job is to provide you with the knowledge to make the best decision when it comes to health and wellness,” Granger said.

Granger said abstinent couples should be prepared in case the “heat of the moment” leads to intercourse.

Guiffreda and Turner said they have to consciously decide how they spend their alone time. They uphold their pledge of abstinence by refraining from excessive drinking or sleeping in the same bed.

“We don’t allow ourselves to get in that situation,” Guiffreda said.

Although people may believe students are having more sex with more partners, 32 percent of students stated they had no sexual partners for the school year, according to a sample of 715 LSU students who participated in the American College Health Association National College Health Assessment conducted in 2008.

Additionally, 46 percent indicated they had one sexual partner and only six percent reported having four or more partners within the school year.

Turner, Guiffreda and Ricks said they believe they are the minority in their decision. Ricks said she has questioned her decision, but not enough to give in.

“There have definitely been times when I thought, ‘What if I’m missing out? What if I need to get it over with?’” Ricks said. “But I do believe it’s worth waiting for.”

Ricks said students from any background can choose abstinence in college and still find fulfillment.

“[Abstinence] ultimately builds a stronger bond with the person you’re with,” Ricks said. “If they are going to stay with you without the physical side of the relationship, then they are really going to care about you.”

“Would you like to dance?” asked the older gentleman with the tanned face covered in laugh lines. Completely flabbergasted, I accepted and was soon swept up in a whirl of lights, Creole music and the pounding of hundreds of feet stomping the dance floor.

In an effort to discover what the Cajuns of south Louisiana – specifically in the Atchafalaya Basin area – were like, I had come to Angelle’s Whiskey River Landing in Henderson. It’s just a short 45 minute drive west of Baton Rouge to the largest swamp in the United States. On my journey I met an array of people whose culture was far more multifaceted than I realized. I barely scratched the surface of a way of life that has survived the best and the worst of south Louisiana with a grin and a hearty appetite for good times, good friends and family.

My dance partner disappeared before I could ask his name, but I did ask him why he lived in his nearby hometown of New Iberia his entire life. His answer was probably the best – and the most accurate – of any I received in my time in Henderson and the surrounding area.

“If you ain’t happy here [in south Louisina], you ain’t gonna be happy anywhere else.”

The Bandito

The first night my coworkers and I ventured to Henderson, some misguided directions led us to a rather unfortunate situation in which our car became stuck in thick clay on top of a levee in freezing December rain.

Dirk Angelle, member of the towing team that rescued us, was the first of several business owners I talked to. He immediately referred us to some relatives who owned a houseboat marina. Angelle was large, loud and not the least bit shy about his membership in the Banditos, a notorious motorcycle gang known for its forays into organized crime. Angelle provided the first glimpse of a trait all the locals seem to possess: everyone either knew one another or knew about one another.

Despite Angelle’s tough exterior, the gang member couldn’t have been more accommodating. He offered my crew a place to stay in his spare trailer on his property, but we politely declined. Meeting Angelle proved to be the starting point of a long chain of connections between a dynamic and engaging community.

The Jack of All Trades

After surviving the fiasco on the levee the night before, we made our way to Atchafalaya Basin Landing. The owner, Tucker Friedman, embodied the classic Cajun. Decked out in a camouflage jacket, worn jeans and work boots, Friedman has lived on a handmade, two story houseboat at the marina for the past decade.

“It’s a unique life. It’s not a prosperous one – there’s one disaster after another,” Friedman said with a grin. “But it’s a good life. Being on the [Atchafalaya] basin and having the ability to just jump in a boat and do whatever you like is a great thing.”

Friedman has lived in the Henderson area his entire life and has been involved in local business for the past 35 years. Having owned a Chevron station, a supermarket, a wholesale ice company, a houseboat refurbishing business and finally a bar and marina, he is ready to take it easy and enjoy his life on the Atchafalaya Basin. After I asked why he stayed all those years, Freidman said he sometimes gets frustrated living there but could never leave the lifestyle and the people.

“When I leave I can’t wait to get back home,” Friedman said. “I’m an outdoors person, so being able to just walk out the back door and hunt and fish is important to me. The people that frequent here are generous and friendly. They’re always lending a hand whether I ask for it or not. They don’t expect anything in return.”

I spoke to Friedman as he was about to leave to restock the marina’s supply of Crown Royal Whisky. A good life, indeed.

The Bridge Tender

When I ran into Gerry Birard on a bridge next to the levee, I wasn’t entirely sure of what he was doing. He was leaning over the side of the bridge, staring intently at a large clump of plant matter lodged next to the support columns of the bridge. Birard, an older man who looked a little rough around the edges, was working on clearing the plants out from under the bridge with the assistance of a tugboat, a task he has dutifully done for the past 20 years.

Birard was once a soybean farmer, a job he said ended when he went bankrupt after “Reganomics” hit the area farmers hard.

Birard said he stays in the area because of the warm and inviting nature of the people in the Atchafalaya Basin.

The Bilingualist

“French is my first language. In school, we weren’t taught French; there was no French immersion program,” Debbie Savoi said in a heavy Cajun accent, in which words containing “th” are replaced with “d” and speech is peppered with francophone words. “To this day, there are certain people I walk up to that I automatically speak French to.”

I met Savoi at the Longfellow-Evangeline Park, a Cajun culture educational museum near St. Martinville, a town about 18 miles south of Henderson. Savoi is an older woman, who looks somewhat world-weary. She works at the museum as a guide, and informed me she was a “real deal” Cajun.

Savoi was slightly more guarded than other people in the area with whom I had spoken, but didn’t hesitate to tell me why she’s never moved from the area.

“I haven’t traveled that much in my lifetime, but when I do go away from here I miss the friendliness of the people. People here are open. They’re more willing to accept and they’re willing to take people in.”

Savoi told me something that seemed the most succinct way of describing the people in the Atchafalaya Basin area: “It’s just the way we are. It’s the joie de vivre.” The joy of life.

The Possum

Savoi recommended I go to a restaurant where she worked for about 15 years, a place by the name of Possum’s. Ignoring the seemingly cliché name, I ended up meeting Possum, otherwise known as Larry Bertrand Jr., after a late lunch. Possum, it turns out, was named so because his grandfather apparently thought Possum looked like an opossum when he was a baby.

Possum fully embodied the joie de vivre Savoi spoke about. A tall, weathered bald man, Possum ambled over to the table and proceeded to talk about everything from hypnotism (or “hypmotism”) to why St. Martinville struggled on even after the devastating loss of an industrial plant that had once supported 3,500 jobs in the area.

“St. Martinville’s changed a lot because the industry closed down,” Possum said matter-of-factly. “Wal-Mart left St. Martinville. Now, all the small Mom-and-Pop places are here. It’s constant evolution. St. Martinville is trying to become a bedroom community.”

Possum, like so many other residents in the area, has lived in St. Martinville almost his entire life, always returning to the area even after he left to work odd jobs.

“I stay here because of family. Everybody around here has large family,” Possum said. “Everybody that leaves eventually comes back.”

Back at whiskey river landing, the dancers left the floor as the Saints game that would determine their shot at the Super Bowl went into overtime. The bar erupted into shouts of exuberance as the Saints kicked the game-winning field goal to win the NFC Championship. I celebrated along with the bar’s patrons and couldn’t help but notice how willing they had been to talk to me about any detail of their lives. Their ability to completely open up to a stranger was the most remarkable thing about any of the people I met throughout the Atchafalaya Basin, a place that seems so far removed from anywhere I had been yet only a short drive from Baton Rouge.

From Dirk Angelle to the dancers at Whiskey River, the residents of the Atchafalaya Basin are a dynamic people whose accepting and easygoing nature is well worth the trip.

See a slideshow of photos from this story >>

Titans have been clashing since the time of the ancient Greeks. Now, in the 21st century, the titans of technology continue to battle for control. The two biggest juggernauts? Apple’s iPhone and Motorola’s Droid.

The iPhone has dominated sales with very little competition for the past few years. However, with Motorola’s slogan “Droid Does,” many consumers wonder which of these two phones is the “smart” choice.

Today’s society constantly tries to stay sleek and stylish. The old adage “Don’t judge a book by its cover” is not always true.

The screen sizes are similar, with the iPhone measuring at 3.5 inches and the Droid at 3.7 inches, according to PCWorld.com. Since size does not seem to matter (in this case), the resolution of the two screens is the deciding factor. The Droid has a better screen resolution at 480×854 pixels, while the iPhone measures in at 480×320 pixels.

A noticeable difference between the two phones is the keyboards. The iPhone has a touch screen, which allows users to type faster and autocorrects any spelling errors. The Droid has a touch screen keyboard but also offers a slide-out QWERTY keyboard. While slide-out keyboards can transform a sleek phone to a bulkier version, some prefer the tactile feel of a real keyboard.

However, appearances can only make a relationship last for so long. The insides – applications and memory – are what counts. Since its June 2007 release, Apple’s iPhone boasts over 90,000 applications, ranging from maps, social networking and games – including one where the user can auto-tune their voice like T-Pain.

Despite the iPhone’s overwhelming number of applications, the Droid’s popularity is increasing. Though it was only released last October, the Droid has more than 12,000 applications.

Google developed the Droid’s operating system, called Android. The actual interface is sometimes seen as complicated. For example, changing a setting on the phone could be found in a variety of places rather than everything being contained in one location.

While the iPhone’s operating system does have the advantage of being developed for one specific purpose, the system can be at a disadvantage when compared to the Android operating system.

The biggest advantage the Android system has over the iPhone system is the pure versatility. Android allows a user to truly customize it for one’s specific needs, while Apple holds all the cards when it comes to the iPhone. Additionally, while the Android operating system is featured on different phones and carriers, the iPhone is locked to AT&T.

An important factor in the debate is money. The phones themselves are equally priced at $199 with two-year contracts.

After the dust settles, the user emerges. The differences and advantages are subjective to the user and dependent on the individual’s intended purpose of the phone. With each company continuously trying to one-up the other, the consumer truly reaps the benefits of  all the various technological advances.

iPhone

• Multi-touch: Super convenient way to zoom in on any web page, and faster scrolling and copy and pasting.

• Applications: Is your skin too clear? Wish you had pimples to pop? There’s an app for that, literally. Boasting over 90,000 applications, the iPhone is hard to compete with in that area.

• Phone wide search: The iPhone allows users to search for anything in the phone at one place.

• Simplicity: No one wants to get a brand new phone that takes hours to learn. The iPhone’s interface is so simple a toddler can figure it out (seriously, there are Youtube videos about it).

• Browsing the web: Multiple tests have been run proving that the iPhone 3GS is indeed faster than the new Droid. Even a pro-Droid website, www.androidcentral.com, admits to the iPhone’s accomplishment.

Droid

• Camera Phone: The Droid’s camera offers a flash and more megapixels than the iPhone.

• Keyboard: Not only does the Droid offer a touchscreen keyboard, but it also comes with a full slide-out QWERTY keyboard.

• The screen: The Droid offers a larger screen with higher resolution, making it easier to watch movies

and surf the web.

• GPS Navigation: Each Droid comes equipped with full turn-by-turn GPS Navigation for free.

• Google Voice: With text messaging, voice messaging, e-mails, picture messaging and more being

developed, keeping track of all one’s messages can become quite the task. Thanks to Google Voice, all

messages can be managed in one convienent location.

“As a kid, I saw a veteran as [an old] bum,” said James Wyant, a clean-cut microbiology sophomore with glasses.  “Now, I am one.”

Wyant, 26, received his discharge letter from the U.S. Navy last August. Wyant, like other men and women on campus, made the decision to postpone higher education to serve his country.

Charlie Pruitt, a 25-year-old landscape architecture sophomore, also delayed college for the military. Like Wyant, Pruitt agrees that he does not picture himself when he hears the word “veteran.”  Instead, he conjures up images of his grandfather.

“There is such a greatness associated with [being a veteran], you don’t associate it with yourself,” Pruitt said.

Although these students say they do not feel like heroes, veterans or patriots, they are. They have traveled from Iraq and back – and today, they are Tigers.

By Sea

“I knew that I always wanted to go to college, but I had no way to pay for it,” Wyant said. “Also, joining the Navy was a way to delay the decision of what path to pursue.”

Wyant explained that his family was supportive when he joined the Navy, despite that he did not come from a military upbringing.  In fact, he said his maternal grandfather led a pacifist organization and his father was not drafted into the Vietnam War because he was in seminary to become a United Church of Christ minister.

He said his friends and family thoroughly backed his decision, but he recalled being frequently questioned about what he would do if there were a war. He responded confidently, “There’s not going to be a war for at least 10 years.”

Wyant joined the military in August 2001.

“I was in boot camp when 9/11 happened … I woke up to tanks in the streets, civilian lockdown, and anti-raiding jacks … like you see on the beaches of Normandy in ‘Saving Private Ryan,’ ” he said.  “It was so surreal that we thought it had to be a training exercise.”

Wyant explained that nearly 300 recruits were corralled into a room to watch about one hour of pre-recorded CNN footage.

He was certain the Navy would buy him some time, but Wyant said he never imagined that he would serve six years in the military during wartime.

During the following years at sea, Wyant served on a submarine and received several medals for his service in Operation Iraqi Freedom and Operation Enduring Freedom.

Wyant, a Los Angeles native, explained that the Navy allowed him to travel.

He said he lived in eight states, and joked that he also resided under water.

“I could never compile a complete list of the admirable people I served with,” Wyant said.  “My most enjoyable moment though, would be riding on the surface [of the ocean] at top speed at dawn without any land in sight.”

While Wyant said he feels his military experience was a positive one, he warns that the military is not for everyone.

“I would recommend the military to very few people. … I think it would be damaging to most people,” Wyant said. “I have seen people literally driven insane.”

Aside from the risks of pirates and battle, he said the day-to-day life in a submarine was unsettling.  He said there was no privacy in the cramped quarters of the submarine.  He also discussed how laborious it could be to do dirty jobs deep underwater.

One particular incident haunts him: A mechanical error shot sewage into the ship instead of the ocean. The crew was not allowed to surface for five days – after everything was cleaned.

“There was a geyser in the kitchen [ruining food],” he said, laughing, finding humor in a gruesome incident.  “It looked like three inch fudge mix.”

Situations like these caused the crew to call the vessel the “U.S.S. Green Evil” instead of its proper name, the Greenville.

Upon coming home from Iraq, Wyant was not only happy to be on dry land but also about how gracious most people were.  He said he surprised by the support for the troops, no matter the political party or opinion on the war.

“I feel like the veterans have gotten unprecedented support from the public, regardless of political belief,” Wyant said.

By Land

“I didn’t value college … I felt really bad for [letting down] my parents,” Pruitt said.

Pruitt explained that he joined the military in 2003 after a failed attempt at McNeese State University in his hometown of Lake Charles, La.

He said he didn’t research the military before joining; his decision to enlist was based on an article in the local newspaper about a friend who served in the initial invasion of Iraq.  He was intrigued by how the story featured his friend as a hero.

Pruitt decided to test the waters.

He told his friends and family he was considering joining the military to gauge their reactions.

“They said, ‘Oh, cool.’  I wanted to hear ‘no, no, don’t do it’  … I felt obligated [to join],” he joked.

With the support of his family and the advice of his military grandfather, Pruitt joined the Marines.

When Pruitt enlisted, he said he felt passionate about the cause he was defending in a post-9/11 world.

He spoke a lot about the camaraderie he felt with his fellow marines.  Pruitt explained that trust was key when it came to ground work in Iraq.

“Knowing that other people suffered through the same things as you really helps forge a relationship,” he said.

He described how interactions with civilians affected his view on the war. He said he was rarely scared on the ground in Iraq, but he warned in some cases he should have been.

“Tuesdays and Thursdays [insurgents] shot at us ,” Pruitt said, laughing at terrorist groups’ failed attempts to invoke fear in American soldiers.  “No one was ever injured … When they got off work, [they would] come shoot [rockets at] us.  They were terrible shots.”

He said Iraq was not how people would picture it.  There were rocky deserts, and he compared the dress of people in rural areas to the garb of “biblical times,” except they carried guns.  He also described the daunting scenery of rusted rockets and vacated buildings from the Persian Gulf War.

He described the Iraqi shepherd families that lived in tents, with only a few pots and pans and how his unit did what they could to help them.  Pruitt said he gave children toys and school supplies, families water and provided whatever other services he could.

Pruitt, like Wyant, discussed how sewage proved to be a problem while in the desert.  He said while protecting a highway in a rural area of Iraq, he and a handful of other men lived in a small, deserted, two-room building without indoor – or outdoor – plumbing.

He said the men had to dig holes to urinate in and other waste had to be put in a bag and burned.  When he finally got to a base with portable toilets he said he remembered feeling like it was “heaven.”

However, there were greater concerns while protecting the highway.  Pruitt said people would come to their fort and threaten them.  No attack ever actually occurred.

While Pruitt feels the Iraqi people are in great need of American assistance, he said they are not always accepting of help.  He added that he felt conflicted about everything he saw in Iraq.

“I didn’t necessarily agree with everything we did … but who am I to question?” he said.  “You want to see it work out for those people.  But at the same time they aren’t helping themselves.”

From Soldiers to Students

While their time in service was always stressful and sometimes scary, both Pruitt and Wyant agree it made them the men they are today.

During his time overseas, Pruitt said he realized how much “better” his life was than those of the Iraqi people.

“I was lucky enough [that] my parents could help me go to school.  It was a maturing process,” he said about how his military experience made him thankful for all of the privileges he had at home.  “I wanted nothing more than to go to school.”

Pruitt decided to go to LSU and worked hard to accomplish his goal.  He first attended Baton Rouge Community College to pull up his G.P.A. in order to enroll in the University.

Pruitt took a summer class at the University in 2008 and received an “A,” proving to himself and his family he could succeed at LSU.

“I want to design, something and see it come to life,” he said proudly, smiling through his 5 o’clock shadow.

While the Montgomery GI Bill helps Wyant with the financial aspects of student life, he also feels his personal growth spurred by his time in the military caused him to be the student he is today.

Currently in his fourth semester at LSU, Wyant has maintained a 3.8 G.P.A. and hopes to become a doctor.

“I know I’ll be in my 30s when I’m done with med school,” he said, laughing.  “In 10 years, I’ll be 10 years older no matter what I do, so I might as well pursue what I want. ”Wyant said that the age difference between he and his peers is not an issue.

“My friends may make fun of me, or call me an old man,” he said with a smirk. “But it’s no worse than what I call them.”

All jokes aside, Wyant said the LSU community is very accepting.

“I am glad to finally be [in college]. I feel that the label of ‘student’ and the label of ‘veteran’ seem to be different in society, but they aren’t,” he said.  “A student is someone who is working hard … and wants to accomplish something for the good of mankind. I would like to think that is the mission of the U.S. military.”

While her child is raped, the opiates in Momma’s veins spread, drowning out her child’s cries. While the pedophile’s murmurs wash over the little girl, Momma counts the dollar bills and nurses fresh scars.

Salvaging her daughter’s childhood is as futile as assuaging her tears.

Sex trafficking is one of the many faces of modern slavery, and it is happening in our own community. Natalie LaBorde, second-year LSU law student and founder of Tigers Against Trafficking, fights daily to rescue human sex slaves in Baton Rouge and beyond. LaBorde said she believes student action is necessary in the effort to free these victims.

“I love Tiger Stadium, but there are more important things to rally 90,000 people around,” LaBorde said.

Baton Rouge is no stranger to sex slavery. Victims of domestic trafficking are people we see everyday — a mother, a teenager down the street or a child runaway. LaBorde said she believes it is difficult for students to find the time to care about the community’s needs while juggling work, school, friends and their futures.

“In the midst of all our own personal pursuits, we have to make a conscious decision to acknowledge that slavery still exists and that we have a part to play in helping those who are enslaved,” LaBorde said. “It’s a long-term commitment, much like that of so many heroes who initiated change in areas such as slave trade, universal suffrage and civil rights. No doubt their lives were busy, but they did it any way.”

LaBorde became attuned to global slavery while living in Sydney, Australia after her graduation from LSU in 2007. She attended events that highlighted human trafficking and eventually went on a research trip, visiting shelters, rehabilitation centers and brothel districts in Europe, Asia and North America. LaBorde said she encountered a 12 year-old girl rescued from a brothel in Phnom Pen, Cambodia. She was 11 years old and pregnant when authorities found her. When LaBorde met her, she was carrying the baby on her hip like a sibling — something LaBorde said she will never forget.

When LaBorde returned to Baton Rouge for law school, alumni Jeremy Beyt and Sarah Kaiser, two of her best friends from her undergrad years, partnered with LaBorde in her mission. Since then, the trio has aimed to mobilize students into local anti-trafficking programs and spread their vision around the United States.

This effort, called Tigers Against Trafficking, was born in October 2008 to raise funds for and connect with the A21 campaign — an anti-trafficking program out of Greece that seeks to “abolish injustice in the 21st century” by benefitting women and children victims. Annie Dollarhide, marketing and communications manager of the campaign, said funds provided by TAT have helped aid the construction of a new halfway house for women rescued from sex trafficking.

LaBorde said the release of the 2008 movie “Taken,” starring Liam Neelson, helped draw valuable attention to the human sex trade. The film recounts a teenager’s journey overseas and her consequent abduction — a realistic teaching tool for LaBorde’s message of awareness and action to combat trafficking.

In March 2009, TAT hosted a 5K walk and run. More than 360 students participated, raising $10,000. TAT raised an additional $7,000 at a benefit concert entitled “Be Their Freedom” in October 2009, which more than 400 students attended. All funds went directly to the A21 Campaign.

TAT has inspired similar organizations at other Louisiana campuses, including the University of Louisiana at Lafayette’s Cajuns Against Trafficking and Southeastern University’s Lions Against Trafficking.

“Ideally I would love to see this replicate all over the U.S.,” said Kaiser, one. “And I’m not just talking about awareness. That’s important, but what’s the point of making someone aware without doing anything about it?”

LaBorde said Baylor University, Kentucky University and the University of Toledo are following in LSU’s footsteps and creating their own anti-trafficking groups.

The Dream Center, located at Winbourne Baptist Church at 4829 Winbourne Ave., serves individuals and families within our city limits, many of whom have suffered exploitation. Members of TAT volunteer at the center’s primary outreach known as “Café,” which provides clothing, groceries, medical aid and other services to impoverished families and homeless members of the community on Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday from 10 a.m. to 1 p.m.

The Rescue and Restore outreach serves victims of many backgrounds, including ex-prostitutes, homeless teenagers who have traded sex for a safe place to sleep and single mothers who have sold themselves to support their children.

“There is such a broad definition of what trafficking is,” LaBorde said. “But at its roots, it is sexual exploitation.”

The mission of the Center overlaps that of TAT, according to LaBorde. Many of the women who pass through the doors have been victims of the sex trade. It is not uncommon to hear tales of women sold for sex by their husbands and lovers or kept in submission by local pimps. The outreach programs aim to provide victim assistance.

Charity Trahan oversees the homeless youth at the Dream Center and said she encounters women and children who have been coerced into the Baton Rouge sex trade. Although Trahan has never been trafficked herself, she said knowledge is the most valuable tool to reach out to victims.

“People think that if they have not been victims of trafficking, they cannot be someone that victims can relate to,” Trahan said. “But if you are educated about the topic and genuinely care, people are going to trust you. Anyone who is informed can make a difference.”

Trahan said she hopes the center will be recognized as an alternative to a life of prostitution — a safe location for homeless youth to gain job and education opportunities and consider a home. In the community’s low-income areas, Trahan said pimps and pedophiles flourish because there is more opportunity to exploit kids from unstable homes.

Trahan, who has worked with the center since October 2007, said child victims of trafficking are easy to spot in the homeless community: They are the majority, and affiliation with the sex industry is often inevitable. Trahan said sex trafficking is a business that caters to the sexual demands of the community. Although cases of female sexual abuse are more commonly reported in Baton Rouge, young boys are also victims of sex slavery, prostitution and exploitation.

“In a crowd of homeless youth, you think about one or two have been trafficked, but it’s actually the opposite,” Trahan said. “Those who have not been bought or sold for sex are the minority.”

Trahan said children raised in sex trafficking are either killed or eventually abandoned when they no longer make enough profit for their pimp. Sex is often all they know, and without any skills or proper education, many support themselves with prostitution. The center often sees women in their 20s who are seeking to pull themselves away from a life of sex, some of whom were sold by their parents as young as 8 years old.

In East Baton Rouge Parish, members of Trafficking Hope are currently aiding a female high school student allegedly being forced into prostitution by an ex-boyfriend – just one example of slavery in our midst.

“There’s no 40-year-old woman who wakes up and says, ‘I’m going to prostitute myself,” Trahan said. “They started at a young age. It’s a life they recognize as normal.”

LaBorde agreed that homeless children are especially susceptible to domestic trafficking, with reported cases of children forced into intercourse ranging from 12 to 14 years of age.

“The term ‘child prostitute’ does not exist,” LaBorde said. “I have always had preconceived notions of what a prostitute was, but that was before I became involved with this.”

As a part of the center’s Midnight Outreach, volunteers meet each month to bring roses to the women at four Baton Rouge strip clubs. The roses bear the center’s information and provide opportunities for groceries, clothing or further education, such as the center’s GED study sessions. LaBorde said one woman kept 13 roses as a reminder she could pursue a life without stripping.

LaBorde said she believes the program helps remind the women that they are cared for and respected within the community. However, the center also seeks to reach women who are potential victims of trafficking.

“You have to find an entry into the girls’ lives, to connect with them and develop a relationship.” LaBorde said. “You never know the situation someone is in. Anyone could be a victim.”

Trafficking Hope, a campaign funded by the federal grant Rescue and Restore, seeks to identify, rescue and restore victims of sex and labor trafficking in the cities spanning the I-10 corridor from Baton Rouge to New Orleans. TAT has partnered with Trafficking Hope, alongside several other organizations receiving the funds. Both programs aim to educate the public on sex trafficking in America and internationally, and provide outreach to communities where people are living at risk.

LaBorde talked about a recent interview with a teenager who came to the center. She was living on the streets, and after discussing the girl’s living situation, LaBorde asked if the girl had ever traded sex for shelter. She had. Trading sex for a dry, warm place to stay is something LaBorde said she believes the homeless community has accepted as a way of life.

“They do not label it by saying, ‘I am being trafficked,’” LaBorde said.

Charlene Merrill, a driver for the Dream Center’s homeless youth outreach, said prostitution is not a choice, but a matter of survival. Kids under the reign of a local pimp are initially attracted by the financial security, the attention they receive, whether negative or positive, and fear of not knowing how to survive the streets on their own.

Mass communications junior Jennie Armstrong became involved with TAT because of her desire to pursue a career in human rights law. Armstrong said she believes every effort she puts into TAT, however small, strengthens the crusade against human trafficking.

“We can’t just sit back and live life in our pretty little apartments when [trafficked] women are being beaten and raped,” Armstrong said. “Knowing what I know, I can’t live my life without helping.”

Beyt said his battle against sex trafficking is personal, as he fights on behalf of the victims as he would for his own loved ones.

“You think about a sister or a daughter and see the big numbers,” Beyt said. “If that was someone in your own family, then all of a sudden it would be a big issue.”

Freedom is our anthem as students – a chance to define lifestyles, decisions and the parties in between. But millions are enslaved on the planet, hundreds in our own backyard, and LaBorde believes it is our responsibility to combat this concern and embrace the millions who live in shackles.

“We all have something, whether it’s our time, our talents, or our finances, that we can use right now to play our part in combating human trafficking,” LaBorde said. “Get up off your asses, stop playing video games and make a difference.”

It’s a typical summer Friday in South Louisiana — the kind of day where you can bottle the air and drink it through a straw — and in an open barn off a derelict highway in Covington, I was just bitten by an alligator.

This alligator — along with 1,500 others — resides on Insta-Gator Ranch in Covington, where 88 percent of the crocodilians will grow up to be wallets, shoes, belts, handbags and sausages. The remaining 12 percent will be released into the wild. One thing they all share in common, though, is the potential to one day save lives.

Insta-Gator Ranch, the only gator farm in the state that allows visitors, takes part in the Louisiana Department of Wildlife and Fisheries “sustained use management program” of alligators. This system, implemented in 1972, helps restore the species’ population after it’s classification as endangered five years prior.  By 1987, the United States Fish and Wildlife Service announced a complete recovery of the species.

Harvesting for Insta-Gator requires an Ultralight aircraft for egg spotting and an airboat to retrieve the eggs.  However, handling eggs while alligator mothers hover nearby does present its problems.

“[Harvesting eggs] scares the heck out of you,” exclaims Jim Piculas, a substitute teacher-turned-alligator rancher.  “These are monsters.”

Most of these “monsters,” separated in water-filled pens according to age and length, will one day sit on dinner tables or become expensive accessories. Researchers at LSU and throughout the scientific community, however have  found even more practical uses for alligators.

Tucked away in an office in the food science building, Dr. Jack Losso, a jovial associate professor, talks excitedly about his studies with alligators.

“There’s close to two million pounds of alligator waste per year … we wanted to use alligator waste — bones, unused skin … to isolate collagen for cosmetics,” Losso explains.  “What we produce is almost 100 percent pure.”

Losso and his colleagues have succeeded in producing this collagen from alligator carcasses.  The product is already on the market.

Collagen, the most naturally abundant protein in the animal kingdom, is responsible for providing human skin and tissues with strength and protection from certain degrees of sun damage.  The protein is already used in a wide array of cosmetics and injections for cosmetic surgery.

Collagen also has curative properties, as it can aid in regenerating tissues, helping to heal wounds and possibly inhibit growth of tumors.

The natural environment in the marshes and swamps of the Gulf coast is ripe with opportunities for infection and disease. Gators, however, are some of the healthiest animals.

“Alligators can be exposed to bacteria and have never been exposed to them before but their bodies know how to fight them … ours don’t,” says Lancia Darville, a chemistry graduate student at the University.

Darville, who works with Dr. Mark Merchant from McNeese State University, explains that their project began when Merchant took parts of blood from an American alligator, isolated them and exposed them to different types of microorganisms — bacteria, viruses and fungi.

“He found that the majority of those microorganisms were depleted after being exposed … The same thing happened with HIV.  Over 90 percent of it depleted, so that’s really exciting,” Darville says.

All 16 of the microorganisms placed in alligator blood serum were killed, including the herpes simplex virus, HIV, E. coli and the bacteria that causes staph, strep, salmonella and dysentery.  Human blood serum was only successful in killing six of these.

The ultimate goal is to be able to sequence antimicrobial peptides from American alligator blood.  Sequencing these peptides — which are essentially small portions of proteins found in blood — would lead to a basic blueprint for production of future medicines.  Because implantation of alligator blood in humans is deadly, a synthetic chemical version of the proteins could allow humans to still obtain the medical benefits of those peptides.

“Ultimately we would like to be able to mimic them for medicinal use,” explains Darville.

Price has seen the natural immunities  alligators possess first-hand at Insta-Gator.

“I’ve never had a vet come here,” he said about his ranch.  “We’ve raised over 35,000 and only lost a few to unknown reasons.”

Price began Insta-Gator Ranch in 1989.  It was not until twelve years later, in 2001, that it was opened to the public for tours.

Though some found it odd that he went from hunting a species to working to protect it, Price explains that it’s really part of the same cycle.  The money the state charges for hunting and fishing licenses (and even for the tags placed on Price’s released gators) goes toward protecting its animals.

“Hunting of animals is really protection of animals … Ducks Unlimited is one of the biggest supporters of wetland conservation [and they sell hunting goods],” says Price.

Louisiana’s own sustained use policy of the American alligator has actually served as an oft-cited model of animal re-population worldwide.  This intense re-population of the alligator means that Louisiana could stand to be in for growth of a lucrative new medical market.

“We want our Louisiana business to be in a position to take advantage of these new markets,” Losso says.

Until more breakthroughs are made, however, the possible key to fighting the economic recession will be lurking in swamps and marshes of the Gulf Coast.

As I waited for the adolescent alligator jaws to release my finger, Piculas tell me this little guy won’t be able to cause any real damage for about another year.  Though his sandpaper-like teeth only hint at the development of something more menacing, I find the force behind his jaws undeniable.  At 9 inches, he’s only a miniature version of his powerful ancestors, but with scientific advances on the horizon, his potential is ultimately infinite.

Gator Aid Fun Facts:

● There are 60 licensed gator ranchers in Louisiana.

● Ranchers use 88% and release 12% into wild.

● The 12% of gators that are returned to wild represent a larger number than would survive on their own.

● Less than 15% of hatchlings ever renew adulthood in wild.

● Once a gator reaches four feet it is considered an adult.

● Gators can jump 2/3 of their body length.

See a slideshow of more photos from the gator ranch.