By Jasmin Shirazian

A dish served to distinguished lecturer Maral Attallah of the department of critical race, gender and sexuality studies at a Palestinian restaurant in the Bay Area, and a conversation with the owner in Arabic, brought her to tears. When community is limited, sudden access to cultural connections, like a meal and communication, can be incredibly emotional. The constant feeling of isolation that is so abundant in Humboldt County is amplified for minority communities. 

“My father passed away in June of 2024, so I don’t speak Arabic to people — I don’t hear Arabic, people don’t speak Arabic up here. It’s not a part of my daily life anymore, and that makes me really sad,” Attallah said. “[The owner] basically told me in Arabic, to enjoy your meal — and I lost it, because the last time I heard someone say that to me was my dad. My dad used to say it every time he’d bring me my meal.” 

Students of color who choose Cal Poly Humboldt often leave behind communities more diverse and supportive than what can be found in Humboldt County. According to 2025 U.S. Census Data, out of 131,647 residents in Humboldt County, 82% were white, with the second largest demographic being Hispanic or Latino at 14.6%. As of now, there is no categorization available for those of North African or Middle Eastern descent to differentiate from or collect data on, which can make it even more difficult to connect and form communities. Though some minority groups are able to find a semblance of similarity to what may feel like home through established groups and organizations, for students with Middle Eastern, North African and West Asian ancestry, cultural connections can be much harder to find. 

Attallah is of Armenian and Assyrian descent on her father’s side. She has made it her life’s work to tell the facts and stories of the victims of the Armenian Genocide, which includes her grandfather. Through her work, she connects with her heritage; she keeps her father and grandfather’s experiences alive, refusing to let their stories be told for them.

Food in many cultures serves as a pillar of community; it can provide an opportunity to sit, relax and take time to connect with loved ones. For Attallah, language and food are key components of her connection to her roots. However, enjoying a West Asian, Middle Eastern or North African dish, like the Kafta bil Saniyeh that brought Attallah to tears, often means venturing outside of Humboldt County. Though there are a handful of establishments that serve Mediterranean foods and inspired dishes, the selection is limited. Attallah, when able, will leave Humboldt County specifically to get back in touch with diversity. 

“Any opportunity I get to leave Humboldt, I do,” Attallah said. “I have to leave — I need the food, I need the language, I need to see people who look like me. Not even like me, but just different.” 

The simple act of shared words over a dish can have unexpected impacts on minority communities that have limited access to their culture. When going out is not an option, learning to cook at home is something many diaspora, like fisheries biology major Neshwa Rabie, must  do to reconnect with their roots. Rabie, of Jordanian descent on her father’s side, lived in Jordan until she was six years old. Like Attallah, she finds that speaking Arabic, especially with her family, is what helps her feel most at home. 

“I have my old pictures from Jordan that I have in my room,” Rabie said. “But, mostly, it’s just speaking to my family, because that gives me a chance to speak Arabic and that makes me feel really connected to my roots.”

Rabie also stays connected with her roots through her pride of being Arab. The comfort and joy she has in her identity are undeniable aspects of her person. 

“I like to think that every room I go into, I want people to know I’m Arab, I’m Jordanian,” Rabie said. “This is who I am. This is a very big part of my identity. This affects how I do everything, and everybody should know that that is who I am.”

While food and language can serve as the connection for many, other students like Leyla Craven use art and art history to reconnect with their heritage. 

Craven, a double major in art history and art education, is Iranian on her father’s side and has based her thesis on Iranian artist Shirin Neshat. Craven also incorporates traditional Iranian motifs into her art as a way to reclaim and reconnect with her heritage. One of her main reasons behind her art is her insistence that Iranian voices must be heard. She believes that through art, Iranian voices can be amplified to show the nuances that are often pushed aside due to distance, misinformation or propaganda. 

“Obviously, especially here in Humboldt, but just in the whole Western world in general, there’s not a lot of Iranian representation,” Craven said. “So, we should make as much stuff and get our voices out there as much as possible, especially to avoid [being] turned into a monolith.” 

For Craven, creating Iranian-inspired art also further connects her to other Iranian diaspora. The act of creation can feel like the connection that has been fractured from both civil wars and foreign intervention. For diaspora, it can be one of the few ways to form community. The disconnect felt being removed from a home that housed generations of a person’s family can be slightly remedied through the connection found within the diaspora. Through these connections, Middle Eastern, West Asian and North African diaspora are able to rebuild their community.

“I think a lot of Iranian artists are about being a part of the diaspora, about being disconnected from their cultures and from their families,” Craven said. “We’re all connected internationally through the act of making art and communicating with each other as a way for us to sort of reclaim a sense of heritage or belonging. Because for so many of us, our families are so fractured and traumatized, it’s a way to find connection.”

Jasmin Shirazian is the award-winning, curly-headed copy editor of The Lumberjack. Her beats range from breaking news to complaining about minor inconveniences. In her free time, she enjoys leaving the country and spending time with her cat. Inquiries can be sent to js760@humboldt.edu.

By Kaylon Coleman

Over the weekend, I attended the last show for Bat Boy: The Musical hosted by the Cal Poly Humboldt Department of Dance, Music and Theatre. To fully immerse myself in the experience, I decided to channel my inner bat and walk in blind. I know it’s in the name, but it wasn’t until I was smack-dab in front of the Van Duzer that I realized I was attending a musical. 

Now, it’s been a minute since I’ve basked in the theater arts, ironically six or seven years probably — but I believe this is the first time I’ve ever witnessed a musical live. The play itself lasted about two-and-a-half hours, with an intermission included. For those unaware, Bat Boy is about… well, a bat-boy. Bat Boy, later dubbed Edgar, is stumbled upon by some cave explorers while spelunking. After getting captured and brought to the surface, Edgar is caged as the townspeople decide whether to string him up as entertainment or to put him down via the town doctor, Dr. Parker.

The first act of the musical consisted of Edgar getting accustomed to human life, learning how to walk the walk, talk the talk, so on and so forth. This presented itself through 13 different songs sprinkled throughout the first act. I know musicals get a bad wrap a lot of the time, but I think the fact that I was watching this live immersed me more than a traditional movie-musical. I need to give props to Rylan McClain, a.k.a Dr. Parker. Everybody who sang did a great job, but McClain’s vocals stuck with me. He was belting up there like his rent was due. 

The play, while more serious leaning, did indulge in some bouts of comedy. One moment that made me laugh was when Edgar was showing off his progression as a civilized individual, and replied to someone with the term, “indubitably.”

  It took me some getting used to, but by the end of act one, I was fairly brought on board the Bat Boy train. All this changed during act two however. After a brief intermission, the play resumed with Edgar attending the revival service they chose to hard launch his progression at. After some snafu’s, Edgar flees into the wilderness, with the townsfolk hot on his tail. This is where the play started to lose me, to no fault of the performers. It just seemed as though the story completely flipped from where I thought it was going. There was a plot twist that I assumed would be the case, but did not end how I thought it would. 

Bat Boy: The Musical is one of few productions I’ve seen that have left me speechless for the most part, which might just be a symptom of live theater, who knows. I applaud the performances of each cast member, and extend my applause to the band as well, which did an amazing job of immersing the audience. Keep live theater alive!

Kaylon Coleman is a senior journalism major with a concentration in news and a minor in communications. He is the Life & Arts editor for LJ, Marketing and Communications lead for the Umoja Center and  and a part-time radio DJ and merch manager for KRFH. If you have a topic you want him to discuss, email him at kc403@humboldt.edu.

by Nick Escalada

Cal Poly Humboldt’s highest rollers, many of whom were under 21, arrived at the Student Activities Center (SAC) lounge dressed to the nines for an evening of non-monetary gambling. Student employees at the center appeared as the house’s dealers, hosting games of poker, roulette and blackjack across a U-shaped arrangement of tables in the familiar hall bathed in red light.

The event drew swaths of students living in the on-campus dorms to what many saw as a flicker of night life at a university with a usual nine-o-clock bedtime. Amanda Kachevas, programming coordinator of the SAC, was excited to provide residents with the opportunity for after-hours recreation for the fourth year in a row.

“There’s so many people who live on campus and don’t necessarily have things to do in town. Not everyone’s 21 or has a party to go to on the weekend,” Kachevas said. “This event kind of fulfills that party atmosphere. And we used to always get requests to stay open late for events, and we found that this event specifically has like the big draw all the way into the night, almost more so than concerts sometimes.”

As fun as it would be, the SAC does not have a gambling license under the State of California, so its tables were open to all ages and dealt in imaginary cash. Guests were each given a Santi book, named after Operations Coordinator Santiago Menjivar, which granted them a starting total of $10,000 to play with throughout the night.

“It’s really low stakes, and we just teach people how to play so that they can have poker nights at their house and stuff like that,” Kachevas said. “At the end of the night, whoever has the most chips at the end can win a poker set.”

The idea for Casino Night came about when staff looked at events held in the student centers of other universities, and some version of a dapper gambling function seemed to always pop up.

Professional dealers were hired for its first outing, but after slashes to funding and requests from SAC student workers, attendees now receive their hands from decks shuffled by their peers.

“There’s a lot of tiny, nitty gritty things, like getting our student staff together and asking them, ‘Okay, do we want student dealers this time? Do we want to bring in a professional dealing company?’” said Events and Media Lead Riley Hemenober. “But, the students always want to just deal themselves, because it makes it more fun. You can go sit at a table and your friend is the dealer, and I think it makes it fun.”

Guests were encouraged to dress their best to match the lounge’s glitzy atmosphere, and a ‘best couple’ fashion contest was held at the end of the night and decided by the cheers of the surrounding crowd. Clad in black and red blazers and dresses, the congregation of high rollers seemed worlds apart from their casual daytime appearances.

“Students love the opportunity to dress up and dress fancy, because there’s not really events [like this] that happen on campus,” Hemenober said. “Students also love some free giveaways, and so we always try to do that too. We hand out little gifts and [hold] different competitions. So, that way, students have that opportunity to get something on their way out.”

Student workers are eager to bring more opportunities for late night fun to the SAC in the future. The Kate Buchanan Room in the lounge was formerly a venue for frequent musical performances, which included student bands. The room has since become a reservable space for on-campus organizations, but the push for the return of live concerts continues.

Nick is the news editor at The Lumberjack, and studies wildlife and journalism with the goal of spreading his love of nature through media. Chat with him at ne53@humboldt.edu!

By Jacqueline Zuniga

As artificial intelligence (AI) becomes more present across different majors, students in art, journalism and English share similar thoughts about how it will affect creativity. While some may see AI as a helpful tool for brainstorming or drafting, some think it could weaken the originality of people’s creativity. On April 10, Journalism Professor Yumi Wilson at San Francisco State University led a discussion at Humboldt’s 2026 Media Day where local high school students could learn from fellow journalists about the field. Wilson explained how she sees AI used in her daily life and work, and that it should be utilized rather than ignored. “AI is being used, whether we talk about it or not,” Wilson said. “We need to talk about it… and maybe even set guardrails in place.” 

Rather than replacing core reporting skills journalists have, AI is being used as a tool in the newsroom. Wilson explained that journalists can use AI to help generate story ideas, proofread drafts and analyze information they have gathered. But, she does emphasize that it shouldn’t be replacing core skills journalists have. She emphasizes that journalists still have to use AI responsibly and not allow it to do all the work. 

“I think we need to be open about the usage, and maybe even set guardrails in place,” Wilson said.

Wilson thinks that the process of using AI tools is like being in a newsroom. You’re not working alone, you’re getting help from editors, photographers and others to help improve your story. They provide feedback and fix errors they might see. She made the argument that AI could help support some of those processes. 

“If we could think about AI tools doing some of that work, but not replacing what we do, might it be a good application?” Wilson said.

The conversation and concern surrounding AI impacts many fields. Another area where AI usage is heavily debated is within the arts. Adrian Conner, a studio arts major, feels that because AI isn’t part of their coursework at Humboldt, it hasn’t had an impact on their education or artistic practice. He feels that art students’ work is more physical and requires hands-on activities, whereas AI is all digital. Within that, Conner worries about people using AI for creative work.

“Art, for me, is the human mind and the human experience, and if you’re using a chatbot to come up with ideas for you, maybe your ideas aren’t good enough to be shared,” Conner said.

Some art students see AI as a tool that must be used carefully.

Studio arts major Jennifer Flores said that AI can be helpful in certain situations, but it can’t replace human work. Flores added that while AI may continue to grow and have its useful moments, it cannot replace the value of human expression. The AI conversation continues to impact a wide range of students and fields, with varying stances. Junior English major Riley Torres feels that AI can actually hurt people’s writing creativity and voice. 

“It may reduce a person’s creativity and make them rely on technology instead of developing their own ideas and voice over time,” Torres said. 

Fellow English major Nathan Casey shared his  perspective on AI. He acknowledges that there are risks when it comes to using AI for writing, but he also sees the potential in using tools to help generate ideas. He still thinks students should be responsible for what they write and not let AI do all the work. 

“AI can help students explore ideas more easily, but it’s often used inappropriately,” Casey said. “If you give all your writing to AI, you’re not improving — and you won’t get better.”

. 

Jacqueline is a journalism major, a news manager for KRFH and she aspires to be a sports journalist one day.

By Sadie Shields

An idea formed by clubs and organizations 25 years ago has finally come into fruition as the LGBTQ+ center opens its doors. The Q Center aims to provide coordinated support, resources and advocacy which was originally unable to be provided.

It all began with one man, Eric Rofes, an openly gay professor at Humboldt who tragically passed in 2006 of a heart attack. Before he passed, Rofes served as director of the Los Angeles LGBT center and as executive director of the Shanti Project, a non profit AIDS service organization.

For many queer representing students, faculty and staff at this institution, his loss was heavy.

“He passed away unexpectedly… and he was a pretty strong presence here,” said Loren Cannon, a professor and author at Cal Poly Humboldt.

In remembrance of Rofes’ work and contribution to the university in 2006, one of the first queer spaces created on campus was named the Eric Rofes Center (ERC) in his honor. After its creation, the ERC became a foundation for queer community-building on campus — but while meaningful, the space was confined.

Efforts to establish a fully funded Queer Center have been ongoing, but repeatedly stalled over the years.

“There have been more than a few attempts to have an actual queer center,” Cannon said. “Most schools have had queer centers for 20 to 30 years.”

Constant administrative turnover was believed to be the main obstacle preventing the center from opening. 

“Typically, they stay around for three to six years…and then you’re kind of back to the starting place,” Cannon said.

Another roadblock was the lack of clear data on LGBTQIA students, due to long standing stigma around identity disclosure.

“When I was here in ‘06, I was the only out trans faculty member,” Cannon said. “Now, we have many more students identifying.”

Elias Pence, coordinator at the Q center, also noticed the shift and how more students are openly identifying as LGBTQIA members today.

“People are identifying openly, which helps us get an idea of our population,” Pence said.

Since then, Cal Poly Humboldt has taken steps towards inclusion, including gender-inclusive housing, restrooms and tracking of LGBTQIA student data.

“I think we certainly have a more accepting place,” Cannon said. “But, it’s kind of mixed. Sometimes it feels like the tide’s coming in, sometimes it feels like the tide’s going out.”

Despite this progress, it is very evident that the rising political tensions, especially around transgender rights, have created a major concern within the community. One of these ways is scapegoating, which is a process of blaming a person or group for problems they did not cause.

“What we’ve seen now looks like classic scapegoating,” Cannon said. “You have a relatively small group, and then, you conjure the monster of trans people.”

This type of scapegoating has not decreased the queer population that is now coming out, but has created signs of anxiety. 

“I have not seen any decrease; what I have seen is a lot of fear and a lot of distress,” Pence said.

Still, no matter the environment, students will continue to be who they desire to be.

“We’re still gonna transition, we’re still gonna change our names,” Pence said. “We’re gonna do all of it.” 

The Queer Center marks the first step on a long journey, and the work is still ongoing.

“We have to realize this is a marathon, it’s not a sprint,” Cannon said. “We might have to be involved in this work for a long time.” 

After 25 years of advocacy, setbacks and most importantly persistence, the Queer Center does not just stand as one of the newest resources available for Queer students on this campus, but also as a symbol of a community that, now more than ever, refuses to be invisible. 

“Let’s fight back, let’s resist dehumanization, let’s protect each other,” Pence said. “Let’s build beautiful things.”

Sadie is a junior communications major, journalism minor at Cal Poly Humboldt who has an interest in covering and taking photos for sports and wildlife journalism, and a slight interest in breaking news. She can be reached at sls331@humboldt.edu.

By  Sadie Shields

As the sun rose high in the sky and the wind carried a gentle breeze, students, staff, family and Humboldt locals gathered in the West Gym to celebrate Indigenous culture. 

California Big Time, organized by the Indian Tribal and Educational Personnel Program (ITEPP), gave students, alumni and family members a space to perform traditional dances and songs to form community connections.

Lead singer Tim Snow of the Xa Batin Feather Dancers from Lake County, Calif., and member of the Habematolel Pomo of Upper Lake California, shared the cultural importance of the dances.

“We call them feather dances – shakehead dances – and they date back 100 years,” Snow said. “They all have different meanings, for the plants, for the wind, rain, earth; it’s an important thing for us to be able to carry this on.” 

The event itself was designed to support Indigenous students and act as an Indigenous campus preview, as well as an opportunity for students to relax and recuperate for the rest of the semester.

This sense of renewal reflects a change that occurred with the creation of the American Indian Religious Freedom Act in 1978 that allows indigenous tribes the right to believe, express and exercise their traditional religions. The act aimed to end government suppression of ceremonies, protect access to sacred sites and allow the use of sacred objects.  

Coordinator of ITEPP, Sasheen Raymond, explains how indigenous communities were unable to practice their beliefs before this act was instated. 

“For a long time, there was a loss in culture due to laws and policies from the U.S. Government… The American Indian Religious Freedom Act changed a lot of the policies where previously people weren’t able to participate in their ceremonies… it’s really phenomenal that we are able to revive this next group and continue for many generations to come,” Raymond said. 

The gathering has also changed and evolved over time; what was once a more powwow style gathering changed to become Big Time through student ideas.

Former ITEPP Coordinator and current special assistant to the President for Tribal Relations and Community Engagement Adrienne Colgrove-Raymond recalls how the idea came about.

“It doesn’t have to be a powwow, it could be something different… a Big Time, which focuses on California Indian culture and dances.” Colgrove-Raymond said.

California Big Time stands as a source not only for community, but also to provide a sense of balance for Indigenous students in their life and culture. 

“Your cultural balance is the most important thing in your life; understanding where you come from and the places that you’re from,” Colgrove-Raymond said. “And so, I think that’s what those dances are about.” 

Sadie is a junior communications major, journalism minor at Cal Poly Humboldt who has an interest in covering and taking photos for sports and wildlife journalism, and a slight interest in breaking news. She can be reached at sls331@humboldt.edu.

By Ursula Newman

On a warm, sunny afternoon on Foster Avenue in Arcata, eager helpers gathered at the newly-purchased university farm plot for a volunteer work day. The March 27 event brought together some of the Humboldt community to support the Critical Agriculture Studies & Agroecology program (CASA). The day consisted of an unofficial launch of the student farm’s Healing Justice Garden with the planting of a black hawthorn tree alongside other medicinal herbs and flowers.

The program — housed in the College of Arts, Humanities & Social Sciences within the Department of Environmental Studies — aims to educate students about agricultural practices through a social justice lens. 

Throughout the day, conversations focused on the importance of planting for protection and healing in the context of interpersonal and state violence. The intimate group of volunteers primarily consisted of social work students and faculty — many connected to Project Rebound and justice system–impacted research — a handful of university staff and faculty in sustainability, environmental studies and critical race and gender studies, as well as a few graduate students in anthropology and environmental studies. 

Although the event was public — in the sense that it was posted to the new CASA instagram account — many of the attendees were already acquainted with program leader and Environmental Studies Professor Renée Byrd.

“I don’t know that we’ve advertised a work party for the whole farm yet, but, we’re kind of trying to build up in a sustainable way, and manage the flow of all the different people that want to be involved,” Byrd said. “It’s slower, maybe than all of us would want, but I feel like we’re kind of [still] building up capacity and infrastructure.”

When asked about how attendees heard about the Healing Justice Garden workday, Byrd referenced the need to develop a network of working groups to manage interest. 

“[Its] people who I know have particular expertise, or were excited about various aspects that are out here working,” Byrd said. “We’re developing a network of working groups underneath the land collective that will focus on various areas, [or ways] people can plug in. Like a pond and hydrology working group, a compost working group ect.”

As volunteers arrived, Byrd expressed her interest in leading abolition and re-entry focused, land-based healing work, and using this space as part of that vision.

“There are a lot of answers that we as humans don’t have right now. But, if we look to the more-than-human world, there’s so many ways that we can be guided,” Byrd said. “I’m interested in thinking about plants as [a bridge] to help us in that transition between the world we have now and the world we’re building.” 

The gathering focused on the design and development of the Healing Justice Garden, one of many projects starting up on the 2-acre section of land that’s currently in use. Modeled after a medicine wheel, the garden will have a central space with a stone altar and four paths leading to garden rooms, each featuring different plants and benches for visitors. On the southern edge, volunteers planted the native black hawthorn tree, known for its heart health benefits and significance in various cultures throughout history.

Other projects on the property include a planned student gathering space with medicinal herbs, a space for the Rou Dalagurr Food Sovereignty Lab to farm and a Black Ecology space at the end of the plot with a greenhouse designated for student-led projects. In the coming months, they will be allowed to expand farther into the approximately 20-acre plot and begin to work the soil on 8 acres total. 

Another project in the space is hosted by the Milpa club on campus, where students and community members part of the Aquilli Metzli group work to bring people together to discuss cultural identity and agriculture practices. They plan to host monthly events on the land and grow traditional crops like corn, beans and squash.

Adrianna Salgado, a cooperative member with Aquilli Metzli, described the importance of making space for cultural reconnection. 

“We’re thinking a lot about Indigenous peoples of the Americas as our ancestors, and how do we make space for that within this new agriculture department?” Salgado said. “How do we make space for traditional agriculture and reclaim that? So much of the food we consume comes from exploited Latinos, our culture, our traditions. So, how do we create a space to bring students to reconnect with that on a different level, especially with so many Latino students coming to Cal Poly [Humboldt]?”

This sentiment reflects a key goal of the student farm space: to bring together diverse knowledge systems into a shared space for learning and rehabilitation.

That interdisciplinary collaboration is also taking form in building infrastructure. Engineering students are currently designing a handwashing station to support future workdays on the farm.

First-year engineering student Addison Gartenlong is part of a team working on the project through her Engineering 205 class. She explained that currently, all water use is coming from a tank that must be filled with water for them to then use.

“The [new handwashing] system is going to work with the rain catchment system that’s out here, that a previous [Engineering 205] class had built last semester.” Gartenlong said.

The goal is to complete construction of the handwashing station by the end of this semester. In the case that the rainwater catchment were to run dry, the station will have the ability to use the tank as backup. However, Gartenlong explained so far the rainwater catchment seems to be sufficient.

Plans for a nearby greenhouse will allow water from both the handwashing station and rainwater catchment to be used for irrigation, supporting sustainable water use.

Byrd emphasized that the student farm’s strength lies in its ability to bring together different forms of knowledge and apply lived experience to the agricultural approach.

“Part of our Polytech vision, right, is that it’s about being place-based. It’s about being hands-on,” Byrd said. “Right now we have a long, long legacy of environmental justice and ecological justice-centered programming. This [project] very much makes sense for who we are. Part of the argument that I’ve made is that the North Coast has a very distinctive food system with a lot to teach the rest of California.”

While projects on the new land begin to start up, Byrd expressed that this event is an important step towards more community engagement.

As the semester comes to a close, organizers are working to develop systems that will allow more students and faculty to participate in the space. With more volunteer days and possibly an opening ceremony hosted on the farm in the fall, those interested in getting involved have much to look forward to.

“We’re developing the forms for faculty to fill out to decide to bring a class here; a research proposal process, so the graduate students, undergrads and faculty can propose the research they want to do out here,” Byrd said. “There’ll be lots of different ways to plug in and contribute. We’re just still developing the infrastructure processes to manage the number of people who are excited about it.” 

Ursula Newman is a journalism major, Lumberjack science editor and Humboldt local. You can find her all over the county doing all kinds of things. Contact her at uon1@humboldt.edu.

By Jasmin Shirazian 

At the crossroads of human connection and technological development sits an app on the app store that comments on the ever-evolving reliance on artificial intelligence (AI): KyleGPT. Over a span of three nights, Kyle Roshan Namgostar developed KyleGPT out of frustration with how humans have interacted with AI — and partially because he thought it would be funny. Namgostar graduated from Cal Poly Humboldt in 2025 with a degree in computer science, and has been developing software since he was 10 years old. 

“KyleGPT is a human-to-Kyle communication channel,” Namgostar said. “That answers the artificial intelligence problem of people transitioning from relying on one another to relying on a machine, which inherently removes us from what it means to be human.”

Namgostar is a first generation college student of Iranian and white descent. As a child, he used Youtube to learn how to create different worlds online as he played games like Five Nights at Freddy’s and Minecraft. Namgostar’s background in tech gives him ample opportunities to blend digital realms with artistic commentary on his field. While his qualms with AI usage fuel his art, his main frustration lies with the lack of ethics poised by tech companies that push the software out. Namgostar understands and sympathizes with the masses who are being told that if they don’t learn to incorporate AI into their work, they will become redundant. 

“I think that human beings are special because of their ability to adapt and cooperate with one another and socialize,” Namgostar said. “It is very scary to be told over and over again in your classes, by potential employers, the Internet and influencers online, CEOs and the executives that run this world, that if you don’t learn how to use artificial intelligence to your benefit, eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner, that you are going to fall behind and you are going to fail.”

In turn, he created KyleGPT: an app with a similar interface to that of ChatGPT, where anyone can ask questions that Namgostar can answer directly himself — and there’s a chance one of his responses will be to Google it yourself. But, nevertheless, he created an app to get people to text him instead of using AI; an app that holds a mirror to the human connection lost in AI conversations. Namgostar also worries about the risks that come with unstructured AI use, such as underage access to character AI apps. 

“Kids are forming parasocial relationships with fictional characters and people,” Namgostar said. “Kids who cannot fully grasp the fact that what they’re talking to is not a real person.”

Traditional machine learning and generative AI are two separate beasts, according to Namgostar. Generative AI is generally built on massive foundation models, such as large language models, that then runs through massive datacenters that deplete communities of local resources, such as water. Smaller scale models, on the other hand, can be run with much less energy. 

“Generative AI is a whole monster, and it uses a lot of energy,” Namgostar said. “It’s the kind of thing that’s running constantly on those data centers that are using a shit ton of water, and then there’s smaller models, because I think it’s more of a spectrum. [For smaller models], there’s data in and there’s data out, and it doesn’t try to expand on that, interpolate or extrapolate that. It’s usually really quick and can usually run locally on [a personal] machine, rather than on some data somewhere.”

Through concern, frustration, anger and angst, Namgostar retaliates against big tech by using ethically sourced, locally hosted AI to create software that can be mutually beneficial for both the user and the creator without using excessive amounts of energy.

“I still believe that, because a group of people are so set on using AI to collect our data, train it and commit all these atrocities, make us economically and socially and culturally and educationally rely on them,” Namgostar said. “It is important for us to fight back, and for me, that means prioritizing human connections and prioritizing human intelligence, while recognizing that they are going to move a lot faster with their tools.”

While KyleGPT is Namgostar’s first development, it is far from his last — he is currently working on a social media platform where users can interact with one another, rather than just him. For now, KyleGPT is available on the App Store for human-to-Kyle connection. 

Jasmin Shirazian is the award-winning, curly-headed copy editor of The Lumberjack. Her beats range from breaking news to covering local performances. In her free time, she enjoys leaving the country and spending time with her cat. Inquiries can be sent to js760@humboldt.edu.