Tabby Patrick stopped promoting her club using the term American Indian.

Instead, when she recruits for her chapter of the American Indian Science and Engineering Society in Turlington Plaza, the fourth-year aerospace engineering student displays a large sign with a single word on it: indigenous.

This change embodies a growing frustration that college-age Native American students have with the term, according to linguistic anthropologist at the University of Florida George Broadwell. This change is especially prominent in November: Indian American Heritage Month.

“There’s been an ongoing conversation for decades now about how language conveys meanings that can be revealing of historical inequities,” said Ken Sassaman, director of the American Indian and Indigenous Studies program at the University of Florida. “Particularly colonialism,” he said.

The term American Indian originates from when Christopher Columbus thought he landed in India in 1492. Since then, Native Americans have been called Indians, according to History.com.

Even with its problematic history, the label persists. However, many of the Seminoles who the anthropologist Sassaman works with said they don’t mind the term.

“It’s not as controversial as it may seem,” he said.

When referring to the American Indian and Indigenous Studies program that he oversees, he said, “we haven’t changed that name or even hesitated about naming the program because of its widespread use.”

But that doesn’t change Patrick’s attitude.

“When I hear the word Indian, I just don’t feel like that describes me,” she said. “I prefer Native American or Indigenous because that’s how I feel I am.”

As for the name of Patrick’s organization, she said she doubts it would use the term American Indian in its name if it were created today.

So, what term should you use?

“Older generations were often not careful enough about this,” Broadwell said, “so it’s good to be as polite and careful as possible.”

He, like Sassaman, said many Natives he’s talked to don’t mind the label American Indian. However, he observed that younger members of Native communities are more sensitive to the term’s prejudiced past. That means, he said, you should ask.

Patrick agrees. “If you’re non-native, it’s better to use a word that’s wider and most people wouldn’t find offensive: Indigenous or Native,” she said.

While she might not correct you if you call her an American Indian, Patrick said she feels uneasy every time the term is used.

Zory Fahringer was uneasy.

With each minute, she got further from civilization. She could only hear the crunch of her tires on the gravel road and the rustling of squirrels in the forest that surrounded her as she drove to the home of a stranger.

She parked her car, and a large man walked forward to greet her.

She noticed his “utili-kilt,” a long Scottish-style leather kilt filled with wrenches, rulers and writing implements. His orange beard was blackened with soot and iron dust. His bulky welding goggles made him look like a mad scientist. For a moment, Fahringer wondered if she’d made a good decision, she said.

Then the man cut through his imposing appearance with an earnest smile and introduced himself as Jordan Borstelmann. As Fahringer toured his home workshop, she began the first day of her metalworking apprenticeship.

Fahringer, 22, is a recent graduate of New College of Florida. She studied fine arts and worked as a shop technician at her school for three years. Since graduating, she was eager to regain access to a forge. Luckily for her, Borstelmann is one of the few blacksmiths in North Central Florida that continues the long-standing tradition of metalworking apprenticeships.

In the 21st century, skilled labor apprenticeships no longer make sense, he said.

“We’re artists, we’re not vital parts of the industrial machine,” he said. Like all artists, blacksmiths need to work diligently to keep their lights on. Instead of investing hundreds of unpaid hours to train a novice blacksmith, Borstelmann’s colleagues are prioritizing profits, he said.

But he feels differently. Since opening Crooked Path Forge in 2018, Borstelmann has had four formal apprentices. Fahringer is the most recent.

“I’m a blacksmith. I’m supposed to make chains – not destroy them,” he said.

When he was new to metalworking, he struggled to establish his foundation. If master blacksmith Yaw Shangofemi hadn’t agreed to train Borstelman, he wouldn’t have formed the skills necessary to open his own shop.

“I had a hard time getting into it,” he said.

He experienced high barriers to entry. Now, at the expense of a happy balance sheet, he does his part to lessen them. He is paid in the knowledge that he leads a future generation of metalworking artisans.

“It’s not a dying art, but it would be if we didn’t keep passing this stuff on,” he said.

Since starting with Borstelmann in June 2023, Fahringer has sharpened her skills significantly — enough to get a job working for renowned metal artist Leslie Tharp. She plans on studying welding at Santa Fe College, then hopes to move to California to support her career as an artist.

“Jordan really took a chance on me, and I am so eternally grateful,” Fahringer said.

She’s another link in a chain that Borstelmann refuses to break.

Three travelers neared a pack of welcoming wolf-bear monstrosities.

One lunged to attack, ending the group’s friendly facade. A moment later, chaos. Spell-slinging, sword-swinging chaos.

And Jesse Mixson, the future game master for Library West, was hooked. Her first experience with tabletop role-playing games, or TTRPGs, allowed her to spend quality time with her international friends — something that distance makes difficult.

TTRPGs are a type of board game where each player embodies a fictional character. They combine dice rolling with improvised storytelling.

For the past year, Mixson has been working to provide University of Florida students, staff and faculty with the same opportunity to connect through TTRPGs. Recently, she has found success.

Thanks to a well-worded grant and enthusiastic student support, she was awarded $4,300 at the end of last fall to increase the accessibility of the most popular TTRPG: Dungeons & Dragons.

“We actually received more letters of support than we could include in our proposal,” Mixson said.

Now, Library West and Marston Science Library have acquired the resources and finished assembling kits, which are ready for checkout. Each library has 20 adventurer kits, 10 dungeon master kits and 10 party kits available for rental. Dice are included, and character sheets can be requested upon checkout.

“Every kit comes with an insert full of TTRPG resources, including tools for online play,” Mixson said.

Before this project, those interested in playing D&D either had to buy their own materials or play with the Pair-a-Dice board game club during its meeting times. However, as noted by the club’s former treasurer Jake Shannin, Pair-a-Dice has always struggled with loaning its assets to members.

“We just don’t have the infrastructure that the library has for being able to loan materials to students,” Shannin said.

The increased accessibility will likely be a positive for the UF community. “Dungeons & Dragons is a great way to make friends,” Mixson said.

Role-playing games allow their players to assume new identities — something important for college students trying to discover themselves.

TTRPGs provide “a space where it’s okay and safe to try on an identity and see what it’s like,” said therapeutic game master Corrine Buchanan, who uses role-playing games in her work with clients.

Students can expect to see more material advertising the kits.

“We’ll be doing more promotions as we get closer to International Games Month in November,” Mixson said. As part of this, Marston Science Library will host a workshop to teach new players how to build their own characters.

Mixson’s quest is unfinished: She hopes to expand the TTRPG selection among UF libraries. She began with D&D because it was the most well-known, she said.

“I just think that games are important,” she said. “I wanted students to have them because when I was a student, I would’ve wanted to have them.”