What it feels like to be a temporary local

Nobody talks about the awkward position you find yourself in when you study abroad.

I landed in Italy without a clear role to inhabit, no persona to slip into. I wasn’t an American tourist; I was living here for four months, but I was far from a local. I found myself suspended in an uneasy middle ground: a temporary local, with no rulebook to follow.

But what does it mean to be a temporary local, as opposed to an American tourist? Mostly, it feels like being a fraud. 

I am constantly trying to assimilate, knowing that no matter how hard I try, I will always be seen as an American — an outsider. ​

I have no issue being the tacky American tourist when I travel elsewhere — snapping shameless selfies in front of landmarks, waiting in lines for over-hyped, Instagram-famous restaurants, fumbling through public transit, wasting money on souvenirs. That role is easy. 

But in Italy, I feel incapable of taking it on. I feel less like I’m discovering a city and more like I’m lost inside it.

This is partly because connecting with the people around me is difficult. Because I can’t carry a sentence in Italian, my inability to communicate signals that I am here temporarily, not a true resident of Rome.

I feel embarrassed speaking English, even though most people accommodate me. I notice the subtle shift that happens when they realize I am American, the slight change in tone, like the  way we switch between talking to an adult and to a toddler. When they turn to their coworkers, I can’t help but assume they’re talking about me.

Most of the time, I feel paranoid, disconnected and slightly out of place, because simply living in Italy doesn’t make me Italian. That takes years of work: learning the language well enough to think in it, absorbing cultural traditions and social norms, adjusting to different values and rhythms of daily life. It means adapting and sometimes sacrificing parts of yourself in the process.

Some of what you leave behind seems insignificant: oversized iced coffees, athleisure as a daily uniform, drive-thrus, the freedom of driving, and a fast-paced lifestyle — but those habits are tied to identity. Choosing to live as a temporary local rather than a tourist requires sacrifice. It asks you to be changed by the place, not just pass through it.

The place itself makes the role even harder. As a temporary local, you don’t stay in tourist districts; you live in neighborhoods shaped by long-time residents, where assimilation feels both necessary and impossible. In Trastevere, where I now live, Americans aren’t expected, making my presence feel intrusive, like I’m living in a space not meant for me.

In grocery stores, I wander aimlessly, too embarrassed to pull out my translation app and scan labels. I toss random items into my cart, hoping it’s yogurt and not porridge. I walk past cafes and delis, too afraid to go inside because I don’t know how to order, and go hungry instead. I can’t even walk more than a mile in my new hometown without pulling out my Google Maps.

And when I walk down the street, I’m met with shameless stares, as if my American-ness is visible from a mile away, infesting their streets. No matter what I wear, somehow the true locals always seem to catch it. No trench coat can conceal my blonde hair, an unmistakable signal that I am a “foreigner.”

In the role of the temporary local, you can’t fully embrace your own comforts and traditions, yet you also feel incapable of fully immersing yourself in theirs. It’s an impossible in-between — one that leaves you never completely at home. Just temporary.

But, nonetheless, I’m still trying to figure out how to exist in this space.

For now, that looks like slowly learning the language and trying to apply it, even if only for a sentence or two, and building the confidence to walk into a local pastry shop or deli. But also letting myself speak English without embarrassment in a room full of Italians, and dressing like an Italian without erasing my own individuality.

Navigating this uncertain identity takes balance, patience and a lot of discomfort. I can’t say I’ve figured it out yet, but to the study abroad students who feel like they’ve been dropped into a country that doesn’t quite want them, you aren’t alone. And, who knows? By the end of this experience, I may learn to accept this role. Or maybe I’ll leave with an entirely new identity I’ve made for myself.

A quaint cobblestone street in Trastevere near The American University of Rome in Rome on Jan. 17, 2026.

The faces behind your morning coffee

“Grande matcha latte with two pumps, scratch that, one pump of syrup … And would you like it iced or hot? …  Have a good one. Next.” 

And so the script repeats.

This is a typical day for Nereyda Gonzalez, a Starbucks barista at the University of Miami, who started working there two months ago. 

Some students pick up their mobile order between classes, some cozy up to study and others fuel themselves with caffeine for their days ahead. 

Visiting Starbucks is a part of many students’ and faculties’ days, but not many think about the lives of the baristas making their drinks behind the counter.

According to Gonzalez, the rush peaks between noon and 1 p.m. Lunch time, gaps between classes and midday pick-me-ups hit all at once, filling the campus Starbucks to the brim. 

“Depending on how busy it is, we’ll often have a large group of people waiting on both mobile and café [in-person] orders at the same time,” she shares.

As names are called, customers weave through the crowd toward the counter, shrinking the space behind it. The room feels 10 times smaller to Gonzalez when there’s dozens of people huddled around the counter.

It can quickly get crowded for the customers, and it’s not any calmer on the other side for the baristas. 

Gonzalez finds the store’s system helpful at times when things are at their busiest.

Chris Mendez, a former Starbucks employee of  two years who worked at the UM location, recalls how the system of the on campus location helps baristas make products fast during rushes.

“If we have five or six people, there’s one person [at each product station], and then you both know what you’re doing,” Mendez said. “That way, you’re not worried about the crowd. You’re just making the drinks.”

Although a customer base of mostly rushing-students seems more stressful, Gonzalez and Mendez believe it’s the better option. Before transferring to the UM campus Starbucks, Mendez worked at a mall location. 

“It was terrible. [The customers] don’t care.” Mendez said.

Mendez thinks UM customers have more respect for their baristas than her clientele at the mall. 

“I think that it has to do a lot with the diversity on campus,” Gonzalez said. “There’s a lot of different ethnicities, countries and things of that nature.” 

Mendez also notes that UM’s Starbucks being licensed rather than a part of corporate makes all the difference in the way the stores operate. Although his previous job at the mall’s corporate Starbucks came with more benefits, UM’s has a better work-atmosphere. 

“I think that you have to learn the customer because depending on how they’re speaking to you, you’ll know how to respond to them,” Gonzalez said. “Just try to be adaptable.” 

Like any job, being a Starbucks barista comes with its stressors. That’s why Mendez adapts a lighter outlook on life: to not let things get under his skin. 

At the end of the day, Gonzalez appreciates her job. Day-to-day aspects like “being asked to surprise someone with a drink because they don’t know what to order, or knowing exactly what a regular is going to get before they even say it,” put a smile on her face. 

In the long-run, it’s “the sense of familiarity and getting to know [her] regular customers” that make it all worth it.

“Over time, we build relationships that go beyond just barista and customer. It creates a really welcoming and connected environment,” she says with gratitude.

UM student builds nutrition brand centered on raw honey

For many college students, drinking large amounts of caffeine has become routine. Late nights bleed into early mornings, caffeine replaces sleep and energy drinks sit on every library desk.

Alex Jimenez noticed this pattern — and found it concerning.

Jimenez, a UM senior majoring in economics and entrepreneurship, said watching his classmates struggle with focus and rest made him question why they were relying on harsh chemicals to manage everyday problems.

“That didn’t sit right with me,” Jimenez said.

That concern led Jimenez to launch CODE Nutra, his nutrition brand, and one of its first products, CODE Nectar, a raw-honey based performance product that brings the energy boost without artificial ingredients.

Rather than selling traditional powdered supplements, CODE packages its formulas in single-serve honey sachets meant to be consumed directly — a format that reflects Jimenez’s broader belief that performance nutrition should begin with simple, whole ingredients.

CODE centers around simple, recognizable ingredients including raw honey, green tea extract and guarana for caffeine, L-theanine to smooth out stimulation, beetroot for circulation, and Redmond sea salt for hydration.

“Most people don’t think of honey as performance nutrition. I didn’t either at first,” Jimenez said. “But the more I looked into it, the more I realized it’s real fuel.” 

The natural sugars in raw honey provide quick and steady energy, making it a logical base for the product.

“It’s meant to feel like a safe place in an industry that often isn’t,” Jimenez said. “When you buy from CODE, you know exactly what you’re getting. No hidden ingredients. No fine print.”

Jimenez saw an even greater need for CODE when he tore his ACL twice. While recovering, he searched for faster ways to get back to normal.

“Doctors told me 10 months minimum before I’d be back. I told myself I’d do it in six,” Jimenez said.

He started experimenting with different recovery strategies. What worked for him wasn’t a new piece of equipment or different therapy methods, but changing his diet.

“I cut out processed foods and focused on whole foods,” Jimenez said. “My recovery accelerated. But more than that, my energy changed. My clarity changed.”

The experience reshaped how he viewed health and performance. He began to see what he describes as a disconnect between how people want to feel and what they actually put into their bodies.

Watching classmates struggle with burnout, focus and fatigue only reinforced that belief.

“Most people aren’t unhealthy because they want to be,” Jimenez said. “They just don’t know better.”

Turning that idea into a tangible product meant learning the business from the ground up.

Jimenez initially launched CODE using pre-made supplement formulas sourced from a manufacturer — a common industry practice known as white labeling — to better understand how the supplement market and e-commerce operated.

“There were moments when my bank account was basically empty and all my money was sitting in inventory,” Jimenez said. “That’s scary. But that’s also how you learn. You either figure it out or you stop.”

As revenue grew, he reinvested in the brand and shifted away from pre-made blends, seeking greater control over ingredients and sourcing.

One of the biggest turning points came when he partnered directly with a honey farm and manufacturer in Colorado, allowing him to source raw honey at the foundation of his products and develop his own formulations from scratch.

From there, CODE evolved into a fully custom brand, with Jimenez overseeing everything from sourcing raw materials to designing packaging and coordinating production across different states.

Being a student founder meant there was no clear separation between school life and business life. CODE followed him everywhere — between classes, to the gym and back home late at night.

“You are the company,” Jimenez said. “There’s no clocking out. If you slow down, it slows down.”

He credits the University of Miami environment with helping shape the brand’s direction. Surrounded by athletes, fitness culture and a campus that emphasizes performance and ambition, he found himself constantly inspired by the people around him.

“Being in Miami, surrounded by high performers, reinforces what CODE stands for,” Jimenez said.

Jimenez began sharing products with fellow ’Canes and athletes, collecting feedback and watching how they integrated CODE into their routines. The response, he said, has been both validating and motivating.

“Seeing people actually feel better using something I created — that’s the real win,” Jimenez said.

Looking ahead, he envisions CODE growing beyond performance nutrition into a broader lifestyle brand that includes skincare and recovery products. 

The long-term goal, he said, is to build something that lasts — something rooted in transparency and simple ingredients rather than passing trends.

“The name ‘CODE’ comes from the idea that we are both the program and the programmer,” Jimenez said. “You can shape your life. What you put into your body matters.”

Heel up for Girl Gains’ charity walk

Girl Gains and UM’s National Council of Negro Women will lace up — or heel up — for a “Walk a Mile in Her Shoes”  on Saturday, March 21 from noon to 1 p.m. 

The campus-wide walk taking place from Mahoney-Pearson to the Cox Science Building will support the women of Lotus House Women’s Shelter in Overtown.

Participants can donate professional clothing and everyday shoes to the shelter at the event. The donations help Lotus House, the largest women’s homeless shelter in the country, continue to promote self-sufficiency and empowerment in their residents.

The Miami-based organization also provides housing, resources and support services to women and children experiencing homelessness, making each donated item a tangible extension of the walk itself.

Girl Gains, a student organization that promotes women’s empowerment through fitness and community-building events, sees this collaboration as an opportunity to extend its mission beyond the gym. 

By partnering with NCNW, the event bridges advocacy, service and student engagement.

“This collaboration lets our members show up, learn, and stand beside an organization actively fighting for safety, dignity, and opportunity for women,” Amanda Drobes, the president of Girl Gains, said.

The walk is designed to be a public demonstration of solidarity with all participants encouraged to wear purple and, for those willing, to do the walk in heels. 

The dress code carries a serious message: walking in someone else’s shoes, even symbolically, can make participants and passerbyers think about barriers many women face every day.

“[Wearing heels can] create a small sense of imbalance and awareness, and even a short walk becomes noticeably harder,” Drobes said. “That physical experience helps people better understand how many women move through public spaces with extra caution every day.”

“Walk a Mile in Her Shoes” blends awareness with action. It invites students to step outside their routines, connect with other campus organizations and contribute to a local cause in a tangible way.

Whether you donate a pair of flats or show up in purple, the message is simple: walk with purpose.

“From a Girl Gains perspective, empowerment isn’t only about confidence in fitness,” Drobes said. “It’s about creating an environment where women feel comfortable, respected and able to exist without fear.”

The dual life of a student DJ

Pitchers clink, voices rise and hips sway as students sing “Hotel Room Service” by Pitbull in unison. At the center of the room, student DJ Kallia Sideraki bobs her head, swaying to the beat. 

Known for rocking jeans and a trendy soccer jersey, Siderakis sets the tone for unforgettable nights. By day, she is a physical therapy major at the University of Miami. By night, she spins soundtracks at the Rathskeller every other Thursday. 

“I’ve always wanted to do so many things. When I was a kid, I would say I wanted to be a ninja who plays basketball and DJs,” Siderakis said. 

Her journey into DJing began in high school when her TikTok feed got flooded with DJ mixes. She then told her mother how she wanted a turntable, and that’s where it all began. 

“I always knew she was gonna ask for [the turntable] down the line,” her mother said. “I love seeing her in her element.”

Music has always been a big part of Siderakis’ life. Born in Queens, N.Y., she recalled growing up hearing Frank Sinatra’s song “New York, New York.” Now, she brings her love for music to the University’s on-campus sports bar every other Thursday.

“Her music is really viby, she really knows how to bring great energy and sounds on Thursdays,” Jasmine Chen, a Rathskeller employee, said. 

Balancing school and music is one challenge, but navigating the DJ industry as a woman adds a new layer. 

She’s used to raising eyebrows and people asking her, “You’re the DJ?!” in a surprised tone, before she can even get to the booth. 

Siderakis just lets the music speak for her. In the past, when she was booked through others — whether clients or the president of the EQ Collective club — she was typically scheduled for opening time slots, when attendance was minimal.

Those familiar with her work, she said, see gender as the only difference between her and other DJs at the same skill set.

“Some people can’t even see past me being a girl that I’m probably a little bit more advanced, more skilled than these other people,” Siderakis said. 

She recalled a time when she got to a club located in Greece and they glanced at her and said, “The line starts back there.” When she told them she was the DJ, they were shocked. 

“I continue to master my craft so I can back my talk with a crazy set,”  Siderakis  said. “Staying in my lane and just letting everybody see what I can do.” 

And, her sets and the crowds she draws at the Ratskeller speak for themself.

“Thursdays are the busiest days at the Rat and the main reason is because of her,” Nathanael Scheer, another Ratskeller student employee, said.  “Even in this male-dominated space, she’s holding her own.”

Her presence is a reminder that women can own the stage, sound and moment. 

Want Kaillia to be your DJ? She’s open for gigs at ksiderakis@aol.com. Otherwise, catch her every other Thursday night at the Rathskeller.

Auditions for Frost School of Music: Do you have what it takes?

Hundreds of prospective first-year students from all over the world audition for UM’s highly-competitive Frost School of Music each year. 

With several Grammy Award-winning alumni, a 91% post-graduation job placement rate and a mention in The Hollywood Reporter’s 2022 World’s Best Music schools list, the Frost School of Music has become a dream school for many hopeful music majors. 

Lóren Littlejohn — a senior jazz trumpet player — remembers his Frost audition as something out of a movie. Littlejohn watched with wide, mesmerized eyes as the Frost Band of the Hour performed, stunned by the sheer size of Gusman Hall. From the moment he arrived on campus, he knew Frost was the place for him.

Now, as President of the Frost Ambassadors program, Littlejohn strives to make prospective students feel welcome. 

“I give back by making the audition process light-hearted and fun for the auditionees,” said Littlejohn. “The audition process can be overwhelming, and I do everything in my power to make it a wonderful experience for Frost’s prospective students.”

Annual undergraduate auditions take place in December and February. Roughly equal numbers of prospective students audition in the fall and spring. 

Frost is the one and only UM school that does not allow students to apply under early decision. Prospective students can only apply under early action or by the regular deadline to Frost due to the time-consuming audition process.

All students — except those applying to the bachelor of arts in music industry — are required to submit a prescreen video in accordance with Frost’s requirements. Prospective contemporary songwriters, must submit video recordings of three original songs, while jazz pianists must submit video recordings of four standards. Certain specialized programs — such as composition or music engineering — require portfolios. 

After submitting their prescreens, select students are invited to an in-person audition. 

What sets Frost apart from other music schools is that an audition day at UM is more than a quick in-and-out performance. Applicants and their families are welcomed to campus with live performances, Q&A sessions and campus tours. 

“Welcoming the applicants and their families to campus to show them what makes Frost so special has such an impact on applicants envisioning what their four-year college experience could look like at [UM],” Frost Director of Admissions Dominic Castillejo said.

For the Frost Admissions team, audition season marks the culmination of a six-month-long recruitment tour across the United States. Decked out in Frost green while carrying bags filled with promotional pamphlets, Frost recruiters visit college fairs, high schools and summer music camps in an effort to introduce potential students to UM.    

“It is so exciting to see that applicant we met at a college fair in Texas or at a high school visit in California step foot on our campus and see the magic that the University of Miami and the Frost School of Music offer that can’t be found anywhere else,” Castillejo said. 

College auditions are often one of the most trying experiences in a young musician’s life, but current Frost students, faculty and staff strive to make the process as seamless as possible. 

Ask anyone who’s gone through the process, and their advice is simple: come prepared and prove your passion and you’ll end up where you’re meant to be. 

“You are here for a reason: someone at the school believes in you and thinks you would be a good fit at [Frost],” Frost Ambassadors Vice President Zoë Latanision said. “You have done all the work to get where you are today. Take a deep breath before you go in, and be yourself. They want to see you and who you are. You got this.”

See UM junior and influencer Lauren Barnwell’s film debut: ‘Turning 21’

Lauren Barnwell throws 110% into everything she does. She pours herself fully into each project she takes on — from her coursework, her content and, of course, the celebration of turning 21.

While many soon-to-be 21-year-olds might celebrate with a night out or a brunch in South Beach, Barnwell took a different approach.What began as simple 21st birthday content for TikTok became an entire film production. Now, Barnwell’s birthday is turning into a short film called “Turning 21” that premieres this March.

Barnwell, a junior at the University of Miami, spent last December assembling a production crew, writing a 30‑page script and preparing to film a short movie across Miami with her closest friends.

“I just decided to turn my birthday into a movie,” Barnwell said, as if that was the most natural sentence in the world.

Barnwell is a double major in political science and Spanish, double minoring in business law and sports administration. She has an academic load that leaves little room for time to produce a film. But, her real engine is her online presence.

Across TikTok and Instagram, Barnwell has amassed more than 500,000 followers and built a platform rooted in humor, confidence and the kind of “come live life to the fullest with me” energy. 

Her content showcasing her party‑girl glam, Miami lifestyle and chaotic storytelling has earned her a loyal following and a steady stream of brand opportunities. So, when she started receiving alcohol‑brand emails that she couldn’t accept until she turned 21, something clicked.

Barnwell has coined her 21st on film a “monumentary,” a hybrid of scripted comedy and real‑life chaos. It’s inspired by iconic comedies but has a twist: It’s told through the lens of a group of college women without relying on the tired tropes that usually follow female‑led comedies.

She wants her film to be different from other female-lead comedy films, such as “Girls Trip” and “What Men Want,” that she feels have sexual, written-by-men dialogue.

She watched  “The Hangover” and “Project X” six times each, and built a plot for her film that feels both familiar and fresh.

In “Turning 21,” Barnwell plays herself and wants a calm, grown‑up weekend for her 21st birthday. Her friends want the opposite. 

When they learn their favorite Miami club is closing for renovations, the girls orchestrate a night so wild it derails the original plan of a “chill, mature” weekend, including the luxurious boat day they’re supposed to make the next morning.

“Our chill weekend goes wrong,” Barnwell said as she summed up the film’s premise. “ The only thing left to do is have a crazy f—ing night and pray we make it to this boat.” 

The film blends scripted beats with real reactions, fourth‑wall breaks and background gags. It’s fast-paced, self-aware and intentionally messy. Exactly the kind of humor that lands especially well with college women who love a little bit of chaos and aren’t afraid to laugh at the unhinged parts of life.

The movie may be pure chaos, but the premiere is full-blown spectacle. Barnwell teamed up with an influencer and production coordinator to create what she calls her, “A‑list event.” Think Hollywood premiere, but pink. Very pink.

There will be a pink carpet,  massive branded backdrop and a six‑foot cutout of Barnwell in a martini glass. Also frozen‑yogurt chocolate martinis from a sponsor.

Photographers, press and 15-20 influencers, with a combined following around 100 million, are going to the invite-only premiere. It’s the kind of event that signals Barnwell isn’t just making content, she’s showing her brand to the world.

Barnwell says a UM screening will follow after spring break, giving students a chance to see the film once the premiere buzz settles. After the premiere, the film will officially release on YouTube in the first half of March, giving Barnwell’s followers — and, of course, anyone who has impeccable taste — a chance to watch.

For her longtime followers, Barnwell hopes the film delivers the same feeling her TikToks do: If she can do it, you can do it.

“Seeing you live your life made me start to live mine,” is a comment Barnwell says resonated deeply, and she hopes the movie amplifies that energy ten-fold.

For newcomers, she hopes the film sparks curiosity, not just about “Turning 21,” but about what she might do next.

“This might not be the door,” Barnwell said.  “But I hope it’s the door into the right room.”

Barnwell calls the film a birthday gift to herself and something she will hold onto long after the pink carpet is rolled up and the social media comments start rolling in. 

But, she also made it for the people who’ve been watching her grow online, the ones who see pieces of themselves in her chaos, her confidence and her willingness to try something big just because she can. She wants them to laugh, to feel seen and to walk away thinking they could make something bold too.

And if there are critics? Barnwell is not losing sleep over them.

“Don’t tell me, she said. “Lie right to my face and talk about it behind my back.”Follow @turning21 on Instagram to stay turned and watch the trailer for “Turning 21” on Barnwell’s Youtube channel: @laurenbarnwell.

Canes men’s tennis drops second ACC match to Notre Dame in a 4-0 sweep

The University of Miami men’s tennis team (7-5, 0-2 ACC) fell 4-0 to Notre Dame (11-2, 2-0 ACC), dropping its second consecutive match and still searching for its first road win.

Entering the match the Fighting Irish were ranked No. 17 in the ITA rankings while Miami was ranked No. 58. 

No. 14 Sebastian Dominko and No. 72 Perry Gregg led the way for the Fighting Irish, setting the tone from the start.

In the doubles matches, Notre Dame swept 2-0 to secure the first point. 

The duo of Gregg and Luis Llorens Saracho took down Miami’s Jules Garot and Rafael Segado, 6-2, while Noah Beckner and Nicholas Patrick (ND) defeated Saud Alhogbani and Nacho Serra Sanchez (UM) in straight sets. Dominko and Peter Nad’s match against Miami’s Antonio Prat and Jakub Kroslak was unfinished at 5-5.

In the singles round on court five, Notre Dame’s Kyran Mahimay toppled Alhogbani in straight sets 6-4, 6-2. On court six, Saracho and Garot went to a second set tiebreak. Saracho won the first set and in the second, Garot was unable to fight back as the Fighting Irish took the court 6-3, 7-6 (7-3). To clinch the match on court two, Gregg secured a 7-6, 6-2 win over Sanchez.

The rest of the matches were left unfinished, with all being in a third set tiebreak. Dominko and No. 100 Prat were tied 2-2, Notre Dame’s Guiseppe Cerasuolo led Jakub Kroslak 2-1, and Nad was trailing against Segado 0-1.

If Garot was able to bring it to a third set, it could’ve been a very different story with three Canes matches in a third set ten-point tiebreak.

This marks an 0-2 start for Miami in conference play as UM looks to bounce back for its first home ACC match against Wake Forest at 12 p.m. Sunday, March 6.

Stop speeding across campus — you’re killing animals

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Take a walk across campus, and you’re bound to find maimed animals — and the reckless drivers speeding through campus are strongly to blame.

Throughout the course of one school day, UM freshman Charlotte Allen saw three different dead baby ducklings in campus parking lots and garages. On the way back to her dorm, she found one duckling run over outside of Centennial Village. Then, in the parking garage behind Mahoney-Pearson, she saw two more deceased ducklings.

“You could literally tell that they were walking in a line behind their mom, and then they just got run over by a car,” said Allen. “It was just really, really sad. I started crying.”

It isn’t the first time Allen has seen something like this. Just before winter break, she spotted one duckling that had just been run over. Its mom and sibling stood by the duckling, seemingly waiting for it to wake up.

Florida is known for its reckless drivers, and Miami just might be the worst. A recent study conducted by Lemon Law Experts found that Miami has “the worst drivers in the United States.”

While the posted speed limit on campus is 15 mph unless otherwise noted, it’s not uncommon to see campus visitors, students and staff driving far faster than is necessary or safe.

In a statement to The Miami Hurricane, the University of Miami reaffirmed UMPD’s commitment to campus safety, naming speeding as “a significant hazard” particularly in high-traffic pedestrian areas.

“UMPD enforces traffic laws through education, prevention, and patrols aimed at reducing crashes and promoting responsible driving, not simply issuing citations,” wrote UM. “All traffic incidents involving injuries to people or animals are taken seriously and fully investigated.”

Animals may be the main collateral from near or on-campus speeding, but students are just as much at risk. In the very first week of the 2025/2026 school year, two freshmen were struck by a car on US Route 1 — and just this month, a skateboarder was hit by a gray Honda near the Watsco Center.

The Coral Gables campus is small, making it easily walkable, and easy to leisurely drive through. Speeding through campus might get you to class a little earlier, but it’s not worth the life of any living creature.
Our campus critters are just as integral a part of the University of Miami community as the student body, and it’s time we start treating them as such.

UM community members can report reckless behavior by calling 305-284-6666.

Pata Trial Nears Verdict, Greek Week Wraps and MBB Dominates BC

The Bryan Pata murder trial moves closer to a verdict nearly 20 years after his death. A therapy app sparks controversy after referencing a campus shuttle crash in its marketing. Greek Week unites 33 chapters in fundraising for the Dolphins Cancer Challenge. Plus, Miami men’s basketball secures a dominant win over Boston College, and the Hurricanes’ track and field team shines at the ACC Indoor Championships.