March 1, 2022

March 1, 2022 | 34st.com

TA B L E O F C O N T E N T S

LETTER FROM THE EDITOR 4 EOTW: Daniel Ruiz de la Concha

8 Philly's immigrant students

12 16 what Street's watching

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t the risk of sounding like Cosmo circa 2011, I recently decided to try a new self–care challenge. But unlike its twee–era predecessors, the TikTok–popularized “75 Soft Challenge” doesn’t hold you to unrealistic standards or punish you for being human.

That’s because self–care isn’t an issue of discipline—it can’t be. As I sat down to write my goals for the 75 days, I kept returning to a single question: Why am I doing this?

I started listing reasons—mostly constantly getting winded walking up the stairs to my apartment and hating that weird feeling you get in your stomach when you forget to eat protein—but realized that none of them were true. Or, technically they were, but they were all hiding the deeper truth.

The real reason I wanted to try a gentler wellness challenge is that I struggle to find a middle ground between obsession and apathy. When I “waste” a free Saturday morning watching TV instead of doing yoga, or when I drink less than my goal of three bottles of water a day, I spiral into a cycle of self–hatred and end up giving up entirely. It feels impossible to escape the all–or–nothing mindset that permeates my life, even when it runs contrary to my well–being.

Even if my lack of balance isn’t unique to self–care, it’s where I feel its effects most pointedly. Too much focus on eating nutritious food can quickly turn into unhealthy thought

patterns, but too little can leave you feeling lethargic after going three days without eating a vegetable. Too many hours of exercise might leave your body injured or exhausted to the point of making the next workout physically impossible; too few might leave it stiff and achy.

I probably won’t find a perfect balance in the next 71 days.

There’s a good chance I never will—I might be stuck with a pendulum forever, always swinging between too little and too much.

That’s what this week’s issue tackles head–on. Our feature looks behind the curtain of @pennmemes, asking when a passion becomes an obsession. Our film & TV roundup offers a playlist for your next day off, and our piece about spending a day by yourself is a blueprint for restoration.

Illustration by Lilian Liu

Behind the Mask of @pennmemes

On self–care, obsessive tendencies, and the difficulty of finding balance

SSSF,

the fall of Playboy Emily

34TH STREET EXECUTIVE BOARD Emily White, Editor–in–Chief: white@34st.com Eva Ingber, Campus Editor: ingber@34st.com Walden Green, Culture Editor: green@34st.com Arielle Stanger, Assignments Editor: stanger@34st. com

34TH STREET STAFF Features Staff Writers: Sejal Sangani, Angela Shen, Jiahui (Emilee) Gu, Avalon Hinchman

34TH STREET EDITORS Mira Sydow, Features Editor Meg Gladieux, Features Editor Julia Esposito, Word on the Street Editor Jean Paik, Focus Editor Kira Wang, Style Editor Alana Bess, Ego Editor Evan Qiang, Music Editor Irma Kiss–Barath, Arts Editor Cindy Zhang, Film & TV Editor Andrew Yang, Multimedia Editor Kira Wang, Audience Engagement Editor

Style Beat Writers: W. Anthony Pérez, Anna Hochman, Shelby Abayie, Naima Small

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Focus Beat Writers: Gabrielle Galchen, Sheil Desai, Connor Nakamura, Lina Chihoub, Sruthi Srinivas

Music Beat Writers: Derek Wong, Grayson Catlett, Kate Ratner, Samara Himmelfarb Arts Beat Writers: Jessa Glassman, Kaliyah Dorsey, Emily Maiorano Film & TV Beat Writers: Jacob A. Pollack, Kayla Cotter, Julia Polster Ego Beat Writers: Anjali Kishore, Vidur Saigal, Grace Busser, Ariella Linhart

34TH STREET MAGAZINE MARCH 1, 2022

Staff Writers: Natalia Castillo, Chloe Hunt, Xinyi (Cindy) Jiang, Emma Marks, Shahana Banerjee Multimedia Associates: Roger Ge, Max Mester, Derek Wong, Andrea Barajas, Rachel Zhang Audience Engagement Associates: Kayla Cotter, Yamila Frej, Vidur Saigal, Caleb Crain, Katherine Han, Daniel Kochupura, Emily Xiong, Gemma Hong THIS ISSUE Copy Editor: Brittany Darrow Design Editor: Tyler Kliem Cover Design by Collin Wang

CONTACTING 34TH STREET MAGAZINE If you have questions, comments, complaints or letters to the editor, email Emily White, Editor– in–Chief, at white@34st.com. You can also call us at (215) 422–4640. www.34st.com © 2021 34th Street Magazine, The Daily Pennsylvanian, Inc. No part may be reproduced in whole or in part without the express, written consent of the editors (but I bet we will give you the a–okay.) All rights reserved.

34th Street Magazine is published by The Daily Pennsylvanian, Inc., 4015 Walnut St., Philadelphia, Pa., 19104, every Tuesday.

glossy mag! memezes

WORD ON THE STREET

Putting the Pieces Together How I developed a puzzling hobby to get through panic and anxiety | JULIA ESPOSITO

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have always been a very anxious person.

Anybody who knows me can attest to that. Other than my diagnosed panic and generalized anxiety disorders, I double and triple check everything I do and frequently second guess myself. I worry about relationships and wonder if what I said will be taken the wrong way. I avoid claustrophobic situations and often take meditation breaks throughout the day.

From leg shaking to my heart racing for no reason, anxiety has always been an unwanted companion of mine.

It’s always sucked, and it’s been really hard to find coping methods that work.

From meditation to yoga to drinking chamomile tea, I would do anything to try to dissipate the anxiety. During COVID–19, my symptoms only got worse, and I had to be more creative with coping. I’d find apps with simple anxiety–helping games as a means of distraction. I’d talk

Illustration by Alice Choi myself in circles and circles about how I shouldn’t try to control the panic. All I had to do was breathe. I’d use logic to convince my body to stop being anxious, but to no avail.

It’s like that common psychological trick: Don’t think of a brown dog. As soon as you’re told that, all you want to do is think about a brown dog. It’s too tempting not to; if you saw a giant red button that said, “Don’t touch,” your human instinct is to touch it. That’s exactly what my anxiety is, but with severe physiological consequences such as nausea.

In all of my attempts to cope, I luckily found a few things that worked. For one, therapy helped me a ton.

I attended the Center for the Treatment and Study of Anxiety for about a year and went through months of extremely helpful exposure therapy. Even so, there were always moments where I struggled and no matter

how many techniques I used, I felt stuck. In the end, the treatment that worked was something that hadn’t been prescribed to me at all: putting together jigsaw puzzles.

Growing up, I’d never been a puzzle fanatic. Sure, my family still has dust–covered puzzles in our attic, but I barely remember working on them. I’d always assumed it was something only kids did.

About a couple of months ago, I was hanging out with a friend when he pulled out this seemingly ancient jigsaw puzzle he claimed was from his grandparent’s house.

With a bit of hesitation, I sat down and started helping him with it. It thankfully had a good amount of text and very clear blue borders which made it a bit easier.

As we worked, I don’t know what clicked, but we ended up sitting there for hours until the entire thing was finished. Looking down at the completed puzzle, I felt calmer than I had in a really

long time. This was merely the spark for my newfound puzzle addiction.

I’m not sure why puzzles are so helpful to my anxiety.

My running theory is that it’s something I can focus on while also being productive.

I get to work on putting a scenic picture together piece by piece. I stop thinking in circles about my anxiety and am instead forced to separate edge pieces from centers and try to find which pieces fit best. I can ground myself in the present while knowing that I’m working towards a larger goal.

Anxiety is tough to understand and even harder to cure. I’ve found that the most effective treatments are ones that allow me to put my energy into something productive while still acknowledging that I’m struggling.

I can’t just pretend it doesn’t exist because then I’m essentially gaslighting myself.

Instead, puzzling allows me to be aware of my anxiety

while putting my energy into something else.

Now, whenever I start to feel anxious, if possible, I pull out a puzzle and start to work on it. I have a couple which I’m still in the process of putting together, even one that’s 1500 pieces. Over winter break, after having a bout of anxiety, I stayed up until 1 a.m. finishing a beautiful sunset puzzle my sister had bought me for Christmas.

My new hobby led to me receiving nearly ten different puzzles as presents from family members, but shockingly, I didn’t mind at all.

My anxiety is unlikely to go away anytime soon. Rather than cure it, I’ve focused on coping with it through calming activities like working on jigsaw puzzles. These puzzles have taught me that nothing is ever perfect, and sometimes it does take hours of sitting down and slowly putting the pieces together to finally see a brighter, more beautiful picture.

MARCH 1, 2022 34TH STREET MAGAZINE

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EGO

DANIEL RUIZ DE LA CONCHA HOMETOWN: Puebla, Mexico MAJOR:

International relations and urban studies, minor in Latin American and Latinx studies

ACTIVITIES:

Amnesty International at Penn, Journal of International Relations, Membership Vice President for Wharton Latino, Undergraduate Advisory Board for Latin American and Latinx Studies, Advisory Board for Urban Studies, Undergraduate Assembly, and Mex@Penn

Meet the senior who will one day take Mexican politics by storm. | ARIELLA LINHART 34th STREET: Out of your extracurricular activities, which one would you say has had the biggest impact or has been the most meaningful to you in your experience at Penn?

DANIEL RUIZ DE LA CONCHA: I think Mex@ Penn is probably the biggest one. It was sort of my first community; when I came to Penn, I thought it was a very informal group. I took "Negotiations" my first year, which was very uncommon. I was the only freshman in the class. Another person in the class immediately knew that I was from Latin America [from how I introduced myself], and he was a senior from Mexico. He introduced me to all the Mexicans [in the class], so it was just a very special community. When I started getting more involved with the club, we decided to expand the scope of the club and created some divisions. We had a social impact branch and we realized that a lot of people from Mexico tend to forget what's going [on] back in the country. We wanted to do something [for the community] back home since so many clubs do amazing things for the Philly community, and it’s incredible.

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At first, we were just brainstorming what we should do.

What can we do? And then the pandemic hit and it was harder to do something.

Then there was a report from the United Nations saying that ten women [in Mexico] are killed every day. When I first read it, I was like, this is unreal.

With the pandemic, domestic violence became huge, and all of the women's shelters shut down immediately. We decided to do virtual cooking classes, and all the money was going to be donated to women’s shelters in Mexico. That was our first attempt at trying to do something.

I've always been a very passionate chef; I thought I was going to go to culinary school, so I try to connect everything I do with that.

I feel that [Mex@Penn] is a community that has given me a lot and it just keeps me thinking about home. And again, I feel it's been a way for me to have an impact back in Mexico. I'm just really grateful for that community.

STREET: How do you feel that majoring in international relations or urban studies has influenced your desire to help?

34TH STREET MAGAZINE MARCH 1, 2022

DR: I thought I was going to be a chef, and then in middle school, I started getting really involved with Model U.N. (MUN). I loved debating, diplomacy, and learning about different countries. The first time I was involved in MUN, I represented Mexico. The conference was about public education, and I was so unaware of the reality of public education in Mexico.

I was really fortunate to go to a private school. At the time I obviously didn't realize that, but now I understand that it's the government—the Mexican government—that has an incentive to keep the population uneducated, to continue taking advantage of them. I feel that a lot of people have forgotten what public service is actually about—it's never about you. It's about the country, and Mexico is incredible. I could talk about Mexico forever. I'm just obsessed with the country and the people.

International organizations can have a huge impact on what's happening domestically.

I hope that one day I can work for an international organization and actually help states realize a change that needs to come, because even though international

organizations are there to serve states, the interest of the state should be the people and not the politician running the state.

It's an avenue for collaboration with other countries, and there are a ton of lessons that Mexico can take from other countries, which I feel you can't really understand unless you get to study that or see it firsthand.

For urban studies, it was sort of an accident. I had never heard of the major until I took a class during my freshman spring. It was “Understanding the Public Policy Process” and used Philadelphia as a case study. And again, I was very interested in public policy, because I wanted to go back to Mexico and get involved in politics. It’s been one of my favorite classes at Penn.

From then on, I was super interested in the department, and I just started looking more into it. I saw that one of the concentrations you could do was public policy and government, which is pretty much what I want to do.

So I was like, 'I'll just continue taking some classes,' and I just fell in love with the department.

The community is incredible.

STREET: Tell me about your internship and your thesis.

DR: During the summer of my sophomore year, I started interning for the Organization of American States (OAS). They're sort of a branch of the U.N. It's not technically part of the U.N. system, but they have a ton of collaboration. They are based on four pillars: democracy, security, development, and human rights. They try to really work on those four pillars to guarantee the well–being and the development of the region. There's a lot of collaboration between the Gulf countries.

I first learned about it through MUN, and it seemed like a really cool opportunity. I was learning a lot about the OAS through that program. It reaffirmed my desire to work in an international organization, and I got to talk with a bunch of people who worked at the OAS, because the program brings in so many speakers. It was just incredible. I interned there for the summer in the Department of Education.

In terms of my thesis, I’m doing two. For urban studies, I wanted to do something related to food and Mexico, so I decided to do research on agriculture.

Another Urban Studies class I took was URBS 248 with Do-

EGO

menic Vitiello. It's called “The Urban Food Chain,” and we learned a lot about international value chains in food. We learned about the Green Revolution and the impact that the United States was having on Mexican agriculture; with the [NAFTA] free trade agreements, obviously, it changed dramatically. During the class, I really saw some of the environmental problems that were stemming from the Green Revolution and that the Mexican [agricultural] field was

suffering a lot. The farmers were having a hard time because of the regulations for the seeds that were genetically modified and all of that.

I wanted to look into the social aspect of free trade agreements, so I went to Mexico for three weeks. I traveled across the country interviewing agriculture workers, hearing about their experiences in agriculture and how the industry changed, and their thoughts on free trade agreements. Many of them didn't

even know about the trade agreements, but based on the narrative they were telling about how their lives have changed over that period of time, you can pinpoint when NAFTA came into effect. Their lives changed even if they couldn't acknowledge that it was because of the free trade agreements.

STREET: What's next for you after Penn?

DR: I'm going to graduate school next year. I'm doing a one–year program, but then af-

ter that I'm not completely sure.

I want to go to law school at some point, but I don't know if I want to go right after graduate school or if I want to take a year or two [off]. And again, I don't think I would go into Mexican politics right away, because it's very complicated, and I feel [that] actually getting started this young in your career, you have to commit to a party and I don't want to do that. Another option would be joining the Mexican Foreign Service, which

I really want to do, and I feel like Mexican diplomacy has been incredible for a long time. The other option would be an international organization; I would love to get the chance to do that. I'm really thankful for my experience with the OAS. It just confirmed my desire that that's something I want to pursue in the future.

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

LIGHTNING ROUND STREET: There are two types of people at Penn …

DR: Those who dine out and those who cook.

STREET: Last song you listened to?

DR: “You Found Me” by The Fray.

STREET: Death row meal?

STREET: And you are?

DR: To your surprise, I would say I’m the one that dines out. I love to cook, but I love to try new food, and the restaurants in Philly are incredible. Especially now that I'm about to graduate, I want to try as many as I can.

STREET: Cochinita pibil.

DR: Favorite movie?

STREET: Hercules. I love Disney.

START YOUR MASTER'S DEGREE IN EDUCATION AS AN UNDERGRAD

SUBMATRICULATION INFO SESSION March 15 | 12 p.m. www.gse.upenn.edu/Submatriculation

MARCH 1, 2022 34TH STREET MAGAZINE

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MEUGSOI C

How Beach House Invented a Ninth Planet on 'Once Twice Melody' Synergistic in its contradictions and hypnotic in its sound, the band's eighth album is a transformative space odyssey. | SAMARA HIMMELFARB

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ince their 2006 self– titled debut, Baltimore duo Beach House has gained significant influence as an indie band, while always relying on the same mesmerizing vocals, synths, and distorted acoustics to create their distinct dream–pop sound.

Given that, plus the fact that “nobody has any attention span” according to band member Alex Scally, Beach House worried an 18–song album released in four chapters would be far too much.

But on their new sprawling and abundant record Once Twice Melody, every song has its place.

The double LP is a blend of all of the band’s previous work, combining the drama of Teen Dream and Bloom, the dark edge of Depression Cherry, and the heaviness of 7. The album welcomes the listener into another world that transcends time and etherealizes the mundane. The 84– minute journey into the cosmos acts as a protest against rushing through life in a linear fashion by creating an introspective and surprisingly intimate experience.

The opening track, also titled “Once Twice Melody,” introduces the theme of how we perceive the passing of time. Accompanied by dreamy vocals, soft guitar, and chord changes that are emblematic of Beach House’s sound, vocalist Victoria Legrand sings in the chorus, “Days go by / In her eyes / Once, twice, melody.” These lyrics suggest that we have the power to change the way we view and respond to the events of our lives, whether dramatic or routine. In the album’s universe, time passing is like a melody, not something provok6

ing stress, boredom, or sadness.

Like time itself, all elements of the album come together to make something synergistic and beautiful, even if, in the heat of the moment, things seem mis-

ing to passing days, this "you" experiences growth, is open to change, and recognizes when it’s time to move on. However, growth and progress are not linear, and it's easy to get swept up

However, it's also adamant that “if it hurts to love / You better do it anyway / If it hurts too much / Well, I loved you anyway.” Even when two people have hurt one another, Legrand reminds us Illustration by Devdyuti Paul

aligned or unimportant.

From the following chapter, “New Romance" builds on these ideas and conveys a sense of growth as the journey of the album progresses. Legrand opens the song with the same “days go by” lyric as in the chorus of “Once Twice Melody,” creating a sense of continuity from the album's first chapter. But this time around, it’s from a different perspective. On “New Romance,” Legrand sings, “You’re somebody else, somebody new / ’Fuck it,’ you said, ‘it’s beginning to look like the end.’” Instead of powerlessly succumb-

34TH STREET MAGAZINE MARCH 1, 2022

in setbacks. “Runaway,” set to a futuristic, consuming backbeat, reminds us of this. Legrand asks the listener, “Can you cover what you’re hiding from?” The song suggests that no one can suppress their inner pain completely. “Runaway” encourages us to run towards those we love with honesty rather than run away from the pain and trauma we face ourselves.

On the other hand, “Hurts to Love,” notably released as a standalone track on Valentine’s Day, concedes that there's a lot of discomfort inherent to being open to love as your true self.

that at one point there was love between them. Rather than representing the pain and anger of the moment, the planet of Once Twice Melody is a world where the listener can feel the longing, infatuation, and regret of a relationship all at once.

With song titles like “Over and Over,” “Another Go Around,” and “Many Nights,” time and its cyclical nature are clear focal points of Once Twice Melody. Yet, the so–called “Finale” is the album's fifth–to–last track. The song asks, “Is it over? / Yeah, it’s over.” What can feel like another step in an endless

routine may come to a close.

Sometimes, that means a part of life—a relationship, job, or state of mind—has run its course.

But other times, the song suggests, “The best time of all / I was not looking for it,” hinting at the exquisite elements of our everyday lives that only begin to stand out to us once they have ended.

Even though it's impossible to constantly exist in the state of Once Twice Melody, appreciating all that space and time have to offer, “Finale” asks us to remain grounded in the present so we can look back on a satisfying life.

As the album’s actual concluding track “Modern Love Stories” says, “The end is the beginning / Beginning to an ending.” Despite not being a physical place, the album acts as a space for the listener to reflect on their experiences. It's a distinct and all–consuming creation that provides clarity, free from the obfuscation of time and the distractions of a busy day. Once Twice Melody challenges the notions of a conventional album, one that has more variation and songs with distinct choruses intended for singing along. It's more akin to the feeling of falling asleep on the couch and waking up in your bed, or driving home on autopilot and wondering how you made it to the door. Listening to it in its entirety from start to finish is an immersive, emotional experience that grabs your attention and then draws you into a hypnotic journey.

With Once Twice Melody, Beach House do what only they can, and invent a universe in the space of 18 songs.

O TV F I L EMG &

Should Chadwick Boseman's Black Panther Be Recast?

The late actor started T'Challa's legacy. It shouldn't end with him too. | KAYLA COTTER

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hen Chadwick Boseman passed away from colon cancer in 2020, Marvel fans were devastated. The actor, who played Black Panther in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, left a huge hole not only in the franchise but in the hearts of millions of admirers. Remembering him as an inspiration on– and off–screen, Marvel President Kevin Feige announced soon after that Boseman’s role as T’Challa would not be recast in honor of his irreplaceable portrayal of the character. However, fans of the franchise have begun to clamor for the actor to be recast in its upcoming sequels. In fact, a petition to do so has garnered nearly 60,000 signatures, and the growing movement has even gained the support of Boseman’s brother.

Though Marvel has a history of recasting actors, such as Terrence Howard and Edward Norton, the question of whether or not to recast an actor after their death has always been a complicated one. Some franchises, such as Star Wars and Fast & Furious, have chosen to bring these actors back to life via CGI; others, such as the planned Galaxy Quest sequel or The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus, were either canceled or faced major alterations. A number of series do recast; however, many of these instances are special. They're impossible decisions in which writing off the character simply isn’t possible for the story to continue.

For example, Richard Harris, who portrayed Albus Dumbledore in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone and Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, passed away in 2002 with six films remaining in the series.

While Harry Potter director Chris Colombus commented that he “couldn’t imagine anyone else'' in the role, Harris was recast with Michael Gambon shortly after. Though Colombus struggled with this decision, wanting to honor Harris’s iconic performance in the first two films, Dumbledore was deemed too important of a character to scrap: his influence on the series couldn’t be manipulated. Harris was the epitome of what the books portrayed, yet there was no character who could replace him in the preordained story.

Black Panther is likewise an iconic character in the Marvel franchise. As the first superhero of African descent in mainstream American and Marvel comics, he's been an inspiration for individuals worldwide, and Boseman played T’Challa with a grace that won’t soon be forgotten. He handcrafted a legacy unmatched by most, and though some loose ends have been tied up, his character arc feels incomplete. There are too many untold stories, and no matter how the MCU handles

Boseman’s death, his absence will surely be felt years from now.

That said, Boseman's Black Panther and the future of the Black Panther franchise are two things that can coexist without recasting what may have been one of, if not the best, portrayals of a character in the MCU to date. Like other heroes in the MCU canon, Black Panther is a mantle—the title is passed down through generations, and there have been others to hold it in the comics. There can't be another Chadwick Boseman, but there can be another Black Panther. Passing the mantle to Letitia Wright’s Shuri, Lupita Nyong’o’s Nakia, or Winston Duke’s M’Baku in Black Panther: Wakanda Forever would not only cement Boseman's legacy, but would allow the franchise to continue. For now, T’Challa can be laid to rest; Boseman ensured through his honest, impassioned portrayal of the character that Black Panther will never die.

However, that isn’t to say the character of T’Challa shouldn’t be rebooted in the future. Im-

Illusration by Collin Wang mediately recasting Boseman’s version of the character may feel cheap, but that doesn’t mean other iterations can’t exist. Just like Spider–Man, Superman, and Batman, T’Challa is far too significant to be confined to one generation, and it would be a disservice to Boseman to let him go forever. While his story may be coming to an end in the current MCU timeline, the character’s influence is too broad to simply forget about.

The MCU's Multiverse might even allow this to occur, permitting a new actor to step into the role without recasting Boseman’s version of the character.

Right now it feels inconceivable to see anyone other than Boseman as T’Challa, but it’s likewise inconceivable that T’Challa will never be portrayed on the silver screen again.

It isn’t difficult to see why his indefinitely confirmed absence in Marvel’s 616 Universe timeline feels wrong, even if the Black Panther mantle was designed to be passed down. With the Multiverse, the MCU has created a built–in plot device

that could allow T’Challa to reappear while preserving Boseman’s version of the character. In Spider–Man: No Way Home, Tobey Maguire, Andrew Garfield, and Tom Holland—three actors who played the web–slinger in different decades—are united on screen via the same concept.

Though Boseman's death is too raw right now, it would be nice to see T'Challa again in the distant future, especially considering his significance as one of the most influential Black characters in Marvel comics.

T'Challa is simply a character that can't be retired for good.

An actor’s legacy is most often the characters they bring to life.

Boseman undoubtedly championed T'Challa throughout the four years he portrayed him, managing to construct a legacy that the character deserves to see through. During his tenure as Black Panther, Boseman created a role model for millions of Black men and boys who saw themselves depicted on screen, and it's difficult to come to terms with the fact that a 60–year–old character developed during the Civil Rights Movement might simply be killed off, never to be revived.

However, what really matters is the request of Boseman’s family. His brother Derrick Boseman notably supported the petition to recast the character, citing his brother’s belief that the character was bigger than himself. First and foremost, the family should approve of the route that Marvel takes. Regardless of how T'Challa's exit is addressed in Wakanda Forever, it'll be a goodbye worthy of a king. But legends never really die, and the spirit of Boseman's T'Challa will surely live on.

MARCH 1, 2022 34TH STREET MAGAZINE

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FOCUS

How Philadelphia’s Immigrant Students Are Being Failed by the State

Inequity in public education has been the norm for years. This Pennsylvania lawsuit is hoping to change that. | SRUTHI SRINIVAS

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lunch period has just ended at a school in Philadelphia, and students pour into class. The room is full of sweaty children, but the other things you would expect from a classroom seem limited: the shelves lay relatively bare, chipped walls surround a muggy environment, and the ceiling is leaking.

Recent years have seen a significant increase in immigration to Philadelphia, far more than the numbers one can observe in other parts of Pennsylvania.

Puentes de Salud, a nonprofit that promotes the wellness of Philadelphia’s Latinx communities through after– school programming and children’s literacy initiatives, can corroborate this.

Alexandra Wolkoff, the organization’s education director, says that there has been an increase in minors and school– aged youth moving in from Central America. Any education system in tune to this information should ensure that resources are accessible to the diversity of students in the district. But rather than rising to the occasion, Pennsylvania seems to be actively resisting change.

The state has a long history of wealth inequality in its schools. A 2007 report by the Pennsylvania State Board of Education found that 95% of school districts fell short of adequate funding standards, including the City of Philadelphia. The school funding formula was revisited the following year, and adjustments were made that took base per pupil costs and the poverty levels of various districts into account, but the formula was ultimately abandoned only three years later as economic pressures caught up with the state government. This pivotal change occurred at around the same time immigration rates saw a marked uptick in urban areas.

Further budget cuts were made, and schools in low–income districts, many of which had significant immigrant 8

populations, were the first to feel their effects. Now, the average student in Philadelphia is shortchanged $5,583 annually from what they need for a decent education, while students in wealthier districts have significantly more resources at their disposal. This inequity extends to the lack of community services and language– assistance resources for immigrant students.

Wolkoff affirms that the distribution of school funding is highly unequal in Philadelphia. In terms of educational resources for immigrant student populations in particular, she adds that while it’s great that Bilingual Counseling Assistants (BCAs), interpreters, and translators, exist and can offer services for students who need extra help understanding the English instructors and material, it’s hard when they’re not paid enough to be there consistently. “We’ve seen for a lot of families that it creates an additional barrier … a sense of ‘I’m not immediately welcome here,’” she says.

The way Pennsylvania determines funding distributions is, in fact, uniquely discriminatory toward populations of immigrants in low–income areas; the state is heavily and almost solely reliant on local property taxpayers. Only 36% of public education funding comes from the state’s pocket, meaning that districts with higher property values thus have more available resources that can be funneled into important school necessities like painted walls, toilet paper, social workers or counselors, and BCAs. In 2014, after being squeezed dry for years, six school districts in the state of Pennsylvania, two state organizations, and parents—including a Philadelphia mother—filed a lawsuit against the state’s Department of Education, asserting that this inequity was fundamentally contrary to the promises set under the state’s constitution of a “thorough and

34TH STREET MAGAZINE MARCH 1, 2022

Illustration by Collin Wang efficient system of public education.”

In the last few months of 2021, the case has finally gone to trial.

Wolkoff prefaces that she’s neither a lawyer nor an economist, but she touches on a key point regarding the city's system of resource allocation: “The funding formula is messed up,” she says. “[Underserved students] not only deserve an equal share to other districts, but [should also] have access to what they’ve historically been denied as communities of color and communities of immigrants.” The new lawsuit, too, is critical of the existing system, bluntly stating that it’s an “irrational means of financing public education” in their case’s executive summary.

When asked if anything had been done by the Philadelphia School District in response to this case, Wolkoff mentions resolutions that are in the process of being adopted by the district in response to Puentes' Sanctuary School campaign, which aims to prioritize culturally

conscious and responsive education and curriculum development. However, she goes on to address important next steps for the state: “That was a big win. But now I think the question is always … the actual implementation of these things.”

Implementation is at the forefront of the lawsuit’s demands, and this landmark case’s closing arguments—both from the defendants and the plaintiffs—are happening within the next few weeks.

Despite equality being at the forefront of many state constitutions, including Pennsylvania’s, time and time again they’ve continuously failed underrepresented populations—the many communities that arrive in the United States for relief, shelter, or support. The American experience in our cities should neither be a sea of unfamiliarity for newcomers nor of apathy for the unfamiliar. As Wolkoff and those suing the state believe, it should be something else entirely: fair share of opportunity for all.

FOCUS

A Difficult Reality: Campus Activism at Penn What stands in the way of student organizing? | CONNOR NAKAMURA

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enn has a storied history of activism on its campus—one that has often sought to tackle major social issues extending far beyond the University grounds. In the late 1960s, for instance, students successfully shut down recruitment events by Dow Chemicals during the Vietnam War and led high–profile teach–ins and protests. For decades, students rallied for racial justice in university education with activists like Cathy Barlow (C, W '71, L '76) leading students to a sit–in at College Hall that led to the creation of the Afro–American Studies program and DuBois College House. Kate Lam (C '92) and other Asian American organizers spearheaded a six–year campaign in the '90s to demand a program in Asian American Studies.

This history of student activism at Penn is rooted in the national counterculture movement and “New Left” of the 1960s, where organizations like Students for a Democratic Society (SDS) advocated for participatory democracy as a means to transform society. Most of these radical organizations, including SDS, dissolved by the late '60s and early '70s. Despite their momentum, SDS did not have a consistent goal, and different factions within the organization split due to disagreements over ideas around feminism and Black power. Students today are left to navigate the intensified crisis of neoliberalism while confronting social issues with many of the same tools that activists used in the '60s and '70s.

At Penn, the grim reality is that many activist organizations disband after a year or are active only intermittently. Many of these student organizations face the same issues as their predecessors in the “New Left” movement, but these obstacles remain

undiscussed.

Fossil Free Penn (FFP), a student activist group demanding Penn to “divest from fossil fuel companies and reinvest in clean and just solutions,” has encountered various challenges to organizing. While many students at Penn believe in climate science and even make personal decisions to lower their carbon footprint, FFP coordinator Katie Collier (C '22) believes many students ultimately shy away from groups like FFP due to professional interests.

“It's hard to get people to care when in one ear, they're hearing all about the finance, business, Wall Street World. And then in the other, they're hearing about social justice, equity.

The finance world is definitely a lot louder for them,” she says.

When finance students are encouraged to apply for jobs at companies like J.P. Morgan Chase or Citibank—companies that bankroll the fossil fuel industry—engaging with climate change advocacy can result in a contradiction between personal values and career goals.

The priorities of Penn’s leadership also place limitations on the effectiveness of student

activist organizations. Penn’s Board of Trustees, the body that makes investment decisions for the school, is notoriously business–oriented, and many board members prioritize their financial interests over divestment and community reinvestment.

FFP coordinator Ari Bortman (E 22) recalls the frustrating process of working with the Board of Trustees, where they were asked to create a 50–page proposal for scaled–back divestment initiatives. Despite the group's time and efforts, the proposal was eventually rejected by the University. In their response to FFP, the Board of Trustees merely highlighted Penn’s efforts to improve sustainability and promote climate change research, while ignoring the hypocrisy of investing in some of the top fossil fuel companies.

Caleb Chen (C '21) is a former organizer for the Penn Student Labor Action Project (SLAP), a group that has been inactive on social media since December 2020. He also found that the University's bureaucracy severely limited SLAP’s organizing abilities, as Penn was insistent on maintaining Bon Appétit’s practice of subcon-

Illustration by Amy Krimm tracting workers. He notes that the administration organized a “workers appreciation dinner” in direct response to SLAP advocating for dining hall workers, yet failed to acknowledge their activism in any way or actually increase compensation.

Besides the external pressures of the administration, activist organizations face numerous internal challenges. The typical four–year timeframe for undergraduate students inhibits continuity, making it difficult for students to create long–term goals and cultivate the next generation of leaders. “Over time, the university relies on their ability to wait out the ‘student lifetime,’” Ari says.

But there are strategies to confront these internal issues. Ari credits FFP’s organizational stability to its horizontal structure, where new members are encouraged to step up and deeply engage in planning meetings. FFP’s success demonstrates the importance of close collaboration and collective decision–making.

“Learning by doing,” Ari says, has allowed FFP to develop new leadership and maintain a high level of organizational capacity.

A sense of community is an-

other key aspect of sustaining activist organizations and preventing burnout. Spending time together outside of planning meetings and actions becomes a vital aspect of a successful group.

“It reminds us that the weight of the world is not on our shoulders, and we're allowed to relax and take care of ourselves and … each other,” Katie says. Besides fostering community within FFP, Katie also emphasizes the importance of building connections with organizations on campus and in the Philadelphia community. FFP’s relationships with organizations like Police Free Penn and Philly Thrive have helped them stay accountable to the broader community, while also hosting bigger and more impactful events.

In Chen’s work, community also plays a central role. He currently organizes with the Lotus Collective, which focuses on political education and discussion.

Chen credits their relationship with the Saturday Free School for rooting them in the Philadelphia community and connecting them to the history of political struggle. “That's what's been foundational—you're able to take a leap together with other people knowing that you're committed to the same goals and the same ideas,” he says.

This struggle to branch out beyond the university points to the necessity of transforming student activism itself—bringing together different visions of liberation. The bureaucracy of the administration and the four–year student cycle both pose serious obstacles to the prospects and sustainability of student organizations. But through a genuine connection between students and community members, it's possible to confront these organizing challenges and forge something new.

MARCH 1, 2022 34TH STREET MAGAZINE

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ARTS

On Penn's Campus, Women's History Lurks in Plain Sight Explore iconic female figures on campus through these ten artworks. | Emily Maiorano Illustration by Collin Wang

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ost of women’s notice a stone bench inscribed history is hidden with a 1921 editorial from in plain sight. The Pennsylvanian: “We are From an unmarked painting absolutely opposed to co–edin the background of your ucation at the University of ost of women’s history is study session to the sidewalk Pennsylvania.” Penn’s history hidden in plain sight. From you walk on to class, the souls of women on campus is illegan unmarked painting in of women linger throughout ible, literally—with historical the background of your study session Penn. The art across campus quotes smothered under damp to the sidewalk you walk on to class, tells a chronicle of women’s leaves and eroding underneath the souls of women linger throughout invention that has become in- winter boots—but it's still the Penn. The art across campus tells a visible over the years. Explore foundation we walk upon. On chronicle of women’s invention that has these ten pieces from Wood- what looks like a live news become invisible over the years. Explore land Walk to the Penn’s Wom- ticker of rolling headlines, these ten pieces from Woodland Walk en's Center – all either created architect Jenny Holzer’s 125 to the Penn Women's Center–all either by female artists and architects Years is a physical timeline of created by female artists and architects or honoring female figures in women at Penn. When you or honoring female figures in PhiladelPhiladelphia’s history. are grabbing your next lunch phia’s history. at Hill, pause to read from the long stone path of voices along Woodland Walk from some of the first female students on campus.

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125 Years, Jenny Holzer (Location: Hill Square, University of Pennsylvania, 34th and Walnut streets) Crossing 34th and Walnut, notice a stone bench inscribed with a 1921 editorial from The Pennsylvanian: “We are absolutely opposed to co– education at the University of Pennsylvania.” Penn’s history of women on campus is illegible, literally—with historical quotes smothered under damp leaves and eroding underneath winter boots—but it's still the foundation we walk upon. On what looks like a live news ticker of rolling headlines, architect Jenny Holzer’s 125 Years is a physical timeline of women at Penn. When you

are grabbing your next lunch at Hill, pause to read from the long stone path of voices along Woodland Walk from some of the first female students on campus.

Brick House, Simone Leigh (Location: 34th and Walnut streets) When Simone Leigh constructed Brick House, a towering bronze bust of an African woman, she intended it to be a timeless mirror for Black, female students. The sculpture, newly erected in 2020, reclaims the sexualized slur against women into a complexion of dignity and self– respect. Brick House is one piece in a series titled Anatomy of Architecture. This figure

achieves that interchangeable effect between elements of humanity and architecture with four symmetrical braids held together by seashells that trickle down into a bead–like pattern. On your way to College Green, this work of art is a reminder of the spirit of Black femininity in West Philadelphia.

Lily Composition III, Anne Froehling (Location: Steinhart Plaza, Woodland Walk) Passing Joe’s Cafe in the center of campus, Anne Froehling’s sculpted water lilies are suspended in a crescent pond. On a warm day, her lilies are glossy with sunlight, giving the illusion of real

ARTS

leaves and lotus blossoms. At Penn, Anne Froehling was an active architect and painter, whose art remains in the university's archives. Erected in 1993, this small oasis is one example of her underrated body of work, that which remains sadly unremarked to those who sit beside it everyday.

terials are vulnerable to natural reactions; being wool, the mural itself can retain moisture, respond to sunlight, and even be a source of food to some insects. Since 2019, the intensity of the colors and texture has not faded, but become an entirely different piece just by taking away the barrier between art and nature.

Pan with Sundial, Beatrice Fenton (Location: Van Pelt Library Ground Floor, Rosengarten Court) One of the hidden spots in College Green is the courtyard outside of Van Pelt’s ground floor where Beatrice Fenton’s sculpture sits. On the square of cobblestone, Pan with Sundial depicts a crouching man balancing a sundial on his shoulder while whistling into a pipe. Fenton, who passed away in 1983, was a local artist who studied at PAFA and went on to teach at the Moore Institute of Art, just down the street from her personal studio located at 15th and Chestnut. Her most famous work, Seaweed Fountain, is on display in Philadelphia’s Fairmount Park, depicting a child playing atop a sea turtle’s shell outside of the Horticultural Center.

In The Garden, Jennifer Bartlett (Location: Seng Tee Lee Lounge, Van Pelt Library First Floor) When we think of mosaics, we think of shattered, unmatchable puzzle pieces—but Jennifer Bartlett’s In The Garden simply uses steel squares. On a trip to France, one backyard scene inspired what Bartlett would replicate for almost half a decade. Her series has been on display from the Philadelphia Museum of Art to The Met. This installation now spans and curves around the entire first floor of Van Pelt. On the wall of the Seng Tee Lee Lounge, through dripping paint and the narrow slits between boxes, you can make out a small pool surrounded by trees in fresh blues and greens. On another wall, the same shape is vaguely repeated, this time composed of pale, grayish pinks, and with new details specified, like a statue of a boy.

Next time you need a break from studying, go and put together Barlett’s moving puzzle for yourself!

Fields of Transformation, Claudy Jongstra (Location: Moelis Family Grand Reading Room, Van Pelt Library First Floor) If you make a sharp right at the entrance into Van Pelt's Moelis Family Grand Reading Room, you'll find a mural that makes up a pastel landscape. The piece, called Fields of Transformation, moves like ancient swirls of cloud slowly migrating into earthy stitches of wool. But as surreal and extraterrestrial as it appears, the piece is actually a science experiment. The artist, Claudy Jongstra, is known for using organic materials, going as far as growing her own plants for dyes and supplying her own fibers.

She does so because natural ma-

The Sea, Francine Tint (Location: David B. Weigle Information Commons, Van Pelt Library First Floor) Just a little past the Seng Tee Lee Lounge, Francine Tint’s The Sea hangs beside a set of elevators. An abstract painting, the piece crashes with wide strokes swishing like ribbons of minty seafoam green and splatters of white. The ocean is a consistent motif in Tint’s work, which is often blurry and inexact in texture, like looking down on the water’s surface itself.

Francine Tint’s style of lush colors

combined in psychedelic patterns make her paintings feel like they test dimensions— and her deep dive is right on the first floor.

Tri–Colored Bird, Paper Jungle I, Paper Jungle II, Paula Barragán (Location: Kislak Center for Special Collections, Van Pelt Library Third Floor) A few flights of stairs above, a similar trip through nature is on the wall: massive dragonflies, a looming crocodile, and a distant cheetah, all shrouded in layers of forest. In between two of these paintings is a much more solitary piece; a solo bird seemingly split into three parts; a feathered frame of yellow, a body of red, and an underbelly of white. Paula Barragán’s rotating display recalls Rousseau's wonderland—like jungle paintings from two centuries before. Inspired by her home in Ecuador, her paintings are all statements against oil exploitation and other threats against the country's parks and conservatories.

Portrait of Marian Anderson, Robert Savon Pious (Marian Anderson Study Center, Van Pelt Library Fourth Floor) Although not painted by a female artist, the Portrait of Marian Anderson is an indispensable piece of women’s history in Philadelphia. One of the first nationally recognized contraltos, Anderson grew up in Philadelphia, going to church in South Philly and working at Reading Terminal at 12 years old. She would go on to perform at The Lincoln Memorial Concert. Her presence made her a local Civil Rights hero, and her name appears throughout Philadelphia, from Van Pelt all the way to her house, which is now a museum. This portrait of her, in the prime of her career, wearing a white gown and a subtle smile, captures the poised humbleness she carried in her music that changed the horizon for future Black artists.

Flowers in the Sunshine,

Françoise Gilot (Location: Penn Women's Center, 3643 Locust Walk) Penn Women’s Center is one of the most important sanctuaries for women on campus—whether you need a safe space to consult someone or simply share a cup of tea over a game of Jenga.

Surrounding you is art entirely completed by women—one of my favorites being Flowers in the Sunshine. Resembling a more experimental version of Van Gogh’s Sunflowers, Françoise Gilot depicts a warm vase of a squiggly, exotic bouquet. As the painting’s caption explains, Gilot’s fame derived a lot from her relationship with Pablo Picasso—but what she produced as an artist was entirely individualistic and original from his style. She wanted her work to take place in two acts: the first being her creation, the second her audience’s interpretation.

Gilot described her paintings as intentionally filled with “clues” for a “detective narrative”—making her works endlessly renewed every time they're seen.

Traveling for Spring Break?

Airport Shuttles Thursday, March 3, 7am-7pm Friday, March 4, 7am -7pm

$3

per ticket

Shuttles depart from the Upper Quad Gate (3700 Spruce St) every hour!

Visit bit.ly/s22shuttles to reserve your spot Questions?

Contact shuttles@pennua.org MARCH 1, 2022 34TH STREET MAGAZINE 11

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pennmemes 267 posts

7,983 followers

5,067 following

Following

Behind the Mask of @pennmemes POSTS

REELS

TAGGED

Street sat down with the owner of the most known account on campus, and she tells all—except her name. | MEG GLADIEUX

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s you scroll through your Instagram feed, in the stream of pictures from sorority formals, aesthetic weekend excursions to South Street, club event notices, and perfectly manicured photos posted by official Penn accounts, you come across a long caption under a photoshopped image of Amy Gutmann. If you’re familiar with the content of @pennmemes, you know you’re about to be launched into the head of the anonymous

person who graces your feed a few times a week with relevant memes—and occasionally, a long stream–of–consciousness caption.

“Meme culture itself is Penn culture,” says Penn Memes, the auteur behind the @pennmemes account on Instagram. Part meme account, part diary of an anonymous student, part antithesis to the sheen of “Penn face,” part repository of satire and cynical edits poking fun at what we call “Penn culture”—accord-

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ing to the Instagram bio, @ pennmemes is “the unofficial Penn meme page” that is “dismantling Penn face one long ass caption at a time.”

She believes that her “work,” which is how she refers to the account and the content she posts, has become inscribed in the culture of Penn’s campus. “It's very difficult for me to comprehend who the student body sees me [as] versus the person I am in real life because I keep my identity private and

separated,” she says. Anonymity is at the center of her work—while the memes she makes are driven by her distinctive voice, she refuses to make her identity known to her nearly 8,000 followers and has no intention of going public anytime soon.

Since early November, I’ve sat down for several interviews with @pennmemes, trying to understand the person behind the account. The transcripts of our conversations are long stretches of her

speaking, only a few guiding questions from me, no room for me to get a word in. My questions are just lead–ins for her soapboxes, long rants about the theory behind her work, conversations as she sprawls out on my living room couch waxing poetic about her meme world. If it isn’t evident from her captions, Penn Memes has a lot to say. She cares about her account deeply and thinks about it incessantly.

Penn Memes didn’t come to the Ivy League to run a meme account. @pennmemes was born out of a group of students in the Class of 2024, who, going into their first years of college online, wanted to contribute to the social media space that in large part had taken the place of the physicality of Penn’s campus. @upenn.memes, another popular meme account, had recently become inactive after its administrator, also a former member of the 2023 Class Board, used a racial slur in a group chat—there seemed to be a gap in the world of Instagram comedy for Penn students, especially at a time where Penn culture was defined by remote learning and disconnection.

When she heard about the project, the current administrator of Penn Memes, who is now the lone auteur of the account, couldn’t stay out of it. In high school, she had run another successful meme account, one that had national reach, though she refuses to share its handle with me. She first posted on @pennmemes in mid–September of her first year, but after a few weeks, she realized that the other people running the account, none of whom ever actually posted, weren’t nearly as invested as she was. She got permission to become the sole administrator, changed the password and associated email address, and claimed the account as her own. At that point, not even a month into her first year, she estimated that she had a reach of about 100 followers.

“I take my memes to the next level—I'm a writer, a content curator," she boasts.

What started as memes about Zoom classes soon grew to a larger critique of Penn culture.

Since the account’s inception, her world has been consumed by creating Penn–themed jokes and growing the account’s following: find tem-

plates, create jokes, respond to DMs, monitor the comments.

“You become your own PR agent,” she says.

One of the biggest moments for Penn Memes happened in November of 2020.

After making a post, she noticed a new follower, a verified follower. It was @uofpenn. “I was screaming so much,” she says. “I fried my vocal chords that night.”

It was one of the moments where she felt like her content was something important, something worthwhile, something that positively contributed to campus life. “This is the entirety of the University of Pennsylvania saying, ‘We approve of this account,’” she says, “I'll look it up sometimes and just stare.”

Since then, @pennmemes has consumed her life. “What I do is so lonely,” she says.

Though she makes a point of remaining anonymous, a handful of people—trusted friends—do know her identity. She’s afraid that if people knew who she was, if she didn’t hide behind her mask and the @pennmemes handle, that she would become some sort of “microcelebrity.”

It was the spring of her first year when Penn Memes realized the account had really begun to gain traction.

On March 1, 2021, she made a post revealing her gender—that it was a girl behind the account. It was a major step, though some followers are still surprised when she makes comments that reference being a woman.

“It's so weird that I've had so many conversations with people assuming I'm a man,” she says. DMs she receives in response to her posts and stories often call her “dude” or “bro.” She maintains that being a woman is integral to her comedic voice and the role that @pennmemes has on campus. “I think that humor is so important for women.

We can poke holes in the structures of society,” she says.

Beyond running @pennmemes, generally navigating the online meme space as a woman poses its own challenges. “I've been harassed.

I've been sexualized,” she says.

“This one guy added me to a group chat just to talk about how much he wanted to fuck me.” As she describes the toxic banter among meme account admins, she seems nearly immune to it—it's part of her life. She’s seen the hateful sides of this online community, the

“Meme culture itself is Penn culture.” tiny corners of the internet where racist, sexist, and homophobic ideologies flourish.

It’s a dark but inevitable element of her work. Though she seems far removed from that world, she speaks with a certain knowledge of the cadence of online culture; the world of memes has its own lexicon, and it’s inevitably a part of her personal vocabulary as well.

In April of 2021, a month after revealing that she was a woman, she made another revolutionary decision that would shape the future of the account: She posted her first long, epistolary caption. It became a pattern—the captions expressed her most private thoughts and attempted to show people her internal world, breaking down the mask that is “Penn face.”

Penn Memes knows that you’re not okay. And she

wants you to know that she’s not okay either—it's part of the ethos behind her long, vulnerable captions.

“When I'm writing my captions, I'm writing to you,” she says. “I'm trying to write to the people who need to hear things like that the most because they feel isolated … I'm trying to break that bubble and say, ‘Don't worry, I understand how you feel. It's valid, it's okay. And you don't need to pretend.’”

In spring of 2021, she decided she wanted to post a picture of herself—without revealing her identity, of course. “I wanted to make the point that there are actual human beings running meme accounts. Every meme you see online is posted by a person who had an intention.” There was one catch— she had to figure out a way to post a picture of herself, to humanize her account, without revealing her identity.

What could be better than a comedy mask? She specially ordered one on Etsy. Dressed in a tight corset, face well– disguised in her new mask, and posing triumphantly at twilight, she posted a series of pictures from a photoshoot she had done at Cira Green. Her first year in college had just come to an end, but @pennmemes was just beginning.

As she’s gained more followers, her confidence has also grown—and allowed her to develop the signature @pennmemes style that blends satire, vulnerability, and biting critique of campus culture. But at the same time, behind the memes lies deep care, tireless commitment, and a lot of anxiety. “I have nightmares sometimes that someone will knock on my door and just kick me out,” she says. She tells me this during our third interview. We agree that to really

tell her story, I should get to know her over a series of conversations.

Earlier that day, I had run into her in Van Pelt Library, and it was evident she was having a rough time. On top of the general stresses of being a student and running a meme account full–time, she's also recently been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder, which constantly permeates her thoughts. Now, she’s once again lying on the couch in my living room, recounting a difficult week.

She makes a comment likening the way we’re positioned, me sitting straight in a chair, her sprawled out across from me, to a therapist’s office.

“You’re going to put this in the article, right?” she asks.

“Am I allowed to put it in the article?” I ask. She nods.

“Then I’ll put it in the article,” I reply.

She goes on about the anxiety she’s been experiencing lately. “It’s my worst fear,” she says when I ask her if she’s ever been afraid of someone exposing her identity. “I’ve literally had panic attacks about this.” She tells me she had a panic attack just earlier that day—@pennmemes related. She had made a post poking fun at a capella groups using a Spotify Wrapped template and received backlash in the comments. Any time she gets pushback on her content, paranoia sets in that someone could be lurking, waiting to tear down all the work she’s done.

“Every day, I wake up with the fear that someone's going to reveal who I am to the entire campus, meaning that I basically can't do my job anymore, because it's going to put my safety at risk.” It’s a fear that people won’t like her, or that someone will be out to get her, or that @pennmemes, something she cares about so deeply, will be taken from her.

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Having her identity exposed isn’t an unfounded concern. In February of 2021, the former administrator of the @upenn. memes account was trying to intimidate her, sending her messages and slandering her posts— she was afraid that he was going to expose her identity. In the past, they had conversations via Instagram DMs, and she was pretty sure that he knew who she was. “I was fucking terrified.” She was concerned the situation was headed into “blackmail territory.” She ended up making a post about it and then laying low. Ultimately, it didn't amount to anything tangible— but knowing there was someone harassing her who also knew her identity left her on edge.

But her need for anonymity is rooted in something beyond maintaining her privacy and safety. “The real reason I keep my identity private though—it’s all of the safety things too—but first and foremost, it’s because I’m embarrassed,” she says.

She explains to me that her love of memes and comedy comes mostly from a place of low self–esteem. “I'm embarrassed that if I go to class, and people just see me as ‘the meme account girl,’ they're not going to actually listen to what I have to say,” she says.

While she’s proud of her work, at the heart of everything she does is a deep need for approval, to be liked, to be accepted. She’s placed herself at the center of Penn culture, one finger on the pulse of campus, offering commentary on every major event in University life and every idiosyncrasy that can only be understood by those who trek up and down Locust Walk each day.

But at the same time, everything she does is deeply overthought, a means of self–protection, and ultimately she can hide behind the guise of her anonymity. “Every single post you see online was posted by somebody who has their own complex life or feelings. And I

feel like I try to make my posts like a love letter to the internet,” she says.

Suddenly, she turns the questions to me. “What do you think of me, now that you’ve met me? Am I what you expected?” I don’t know how to answer. When I started this, I don’t know if I had any expectations at all. I certainly wasn’t expecting to become so immersed in this world—I didn't even know there was a world this deep to begin with. I guess I thought she would be a completely different person than the persona she portrayed online, a Penn student who just posted memes now and then. But @ pennmemes in person is more or less exactly how she is in her captions: meticulous, careful, and wholly consumed by the world of Penn.

The last time I sit down to interview Penn Memes, she’s supposed to be on a “break” from her account, a decision encouraged by her therapist.

But then the United States Senate confirmed Amy Gutmann as ambassador to Germany and she resigned from the Penn presidency—it was too much fodder for good memes to remain offline.

“The action of posting takes a lot out of me,” she says. She tries to go offline for a few hours after she makes a post.

But then she’s consumed with worry about the comments that might be coming in, analytics, who’s liking her content. Truly taking a break would mean going several days without posting at all. “Working online means that you always have to stay on,” she says. Like many of us, Penn Memes is a workaholic. And in her line of work, there’s no taking breaks.

As she speaks to me, I grow to realize that Penn Memes is trapped in a bubble where the whole world revolves around her account, her “work.” In her mission to deconstruct Penn face, she too has become devas-

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tatingly trapped in the subculture of our university.

She once stumbled across @yungbenfranklin, a Penn meme account of yesteryear.

The first post dates back to May of 2016; the most recent, February of 2017. With over 3,000 followers, the account

she left class altogether to make a post—she had to be one of the first to break the news that Liz Magill would be Penn’s new president starting in July.

“I love how I take myself seriously. I love how I won't let anybody stop me from taking myself seriously. This is

“Some people will say, ‘It’s just a meme account.

Who cares?' I care, I care.”

didn’t even seem to last a full school year. But it’s been a major source of inspiration for @ pennmemes. “It was beautiful.

The formats were so outdated, the editing software—so bad.

There were references that don’t even make sense anymore,” she says. She realizes that maybe, just maybe, @pennmemes is a piece of Penn history in the making, a time capsule for future generations to remember this particular moment at Penn, the four years she called this campus home.

Sometimes, it’s not clear where @pennmemes ends and the person behind it begins.

She claims to separate her “work” from the rest of her life, but at the same time, it seems to permeate everything she does. Her dedication to @ pennmemes has instilled in her a sense of duty—as if without her, campus would be worse off. The more I get to know her, the more it becomes apparent that she’s just as confused as any of us, trying desperately to make her way in the world and on this campus and figuring herself out in the process.

Penn Memes is a planner to the bitter end—always plotting her next move, her next big post or project. When she’s in class, she’s drafting captions. As she walks up Locust, she’s planning her next big project, or a “scheme,” as she calls it. Once,

fun. And it feels good to know that I don't let anybody sway me from my work,” she says.

Though her identity is a secret to her peers, memes are her profession—her administrator status of @pennmemes is something she proudly displays on her resume.

Through our conversations, I too become consumed by the online world that is Penn Memes. But I’m still left with questions: Do people care anywhere near as much as she does?

Is @pennmemes just something we scroll past on our Instagram feeds, occasionally texting screenshots to our friends? It’s hard to say. But there’s a person behind the account, a person who cares an awful lot, whose world is consumed by followers and comments, the culture of campus, and of course, memes.

At the heart of that obsession with creating comedy out of life at Penn is a deep care for the university and culture that we all call home.

Of course, when we finish what I thought was the last interview, it’s not really the end.

There’s still one more scheme remaining—I do see Penn Memes one more time. We’re on our way to do a photoshoot for this very issue at none other than the third floor of Van Pelt Library.

She has a personal photographer, a trusted friend she uses any time she needs to take a pic-

ture for the account. Last spring, it was a Cira Green photoshoot; in the fall, she dressed as Amy Gutmann for Halloween. Now, it’s this. She insists I come—I've seen this story from the very beginning, and she wants me to be there to see the project through.

Under her sweatshirt, she sports a corset, a key piece of the costume that allows her to transform into Penn Memes.

“Comedy, especially for women, is hypersexualized.

[Wearing the corset] is a way for me to make a statement that I can look like this and still be just as smart, funny, and valid as any Penn student, because the way I look doesn't really affect my comedy.” In many ways, the corset is a metaphor: She’s in complete control of how you perceive her, how confident she feels. But she’s also constricted by the labels and persona she’s created for herself, the anxiety and obsession she has around every piece of content she posts, every statement she makes. She’s breathing, but just barely.

After pulling off her sweatshirt, she pulls her iconic gold–embellished mask from her bag, right in the middle of the Van Pelt stacks. She places it over her face and puts her hands on her hips. The camera clicks as I keep watch to make sure that no one will walk into the small corner of the library she’s claimed as her photoshoot set. I realize I have been fully inducted into the cult of @pennmemes.

If one thing’s certain, it’s that she takes something that many people don’t find very serious almost comically seriously.

And she sees the irony in that.

“Some people will say, ‘It’s just a meme account. Who cares?’ I care, I care. And it's me, and I do it for me—I do it for myself,” she says.

Say what you want about Penn Memes. She’ll get the last laugh. Ultimately, humor is her best friend. “Every day of my life, I will laugh. It's guaranteed.

Isn’t that a beautiful thing?”

F E AT U R E

Photos Courtesy of Joseph Yu MARCH 1, 2022 34TH STREET MAGAZINE 15

FILM & TV

What Street's Been Watching, March 2021 Looking for something to watch over spring break? Street’s got you covered.

Illustration by Alice Choi

I

love going to the movie theater—I love queuing up for popcorn before the movie, I love the way audiences unanimously agree to give the screen their undivided attention, and I love hearing the excited murmurs before the lights dim. At the same time, there is something equally special about viewing a movie or TV show within the confines of your room or home, preferably wrapped up in a blanket and sprawled out in the most socially unacceptable posture possible.

For me, the location matters less than the restorative effect of movies and TV shows. Whenever my mind gets crowded with thoughts, I can always count on a good movie or TV show to offer me a fresh perspective or to inspire

Spirited Away Hayao Miyazaki films have been a constant throughout my life, remain-

and re–energize me. As spring break approaches, the days seem to lengthen, work starts to pile up, and the frenzy of midterms season nears its climax.

We hope that our TV and movie recommendations can provide a starting point for you to recharge over the break, or, at the very least, escape reality for a little bit.

In this week’s roundup, we celebrate an array of films and television ranging from comedy to drama, from the blood– curdling Possession to the heartwarming Our Beloved Summer. Whether it’s immersive storytelling, witty commentary, or extravagant costumes that draw you in, we’ve got you covered.

–Cindy Zhang, Film & TV editor

ing just as intriguing to me now as they were when I was a young child. To me, Spirited Away is Miyazaki’s greatest masterpiece—its

16 34TH STREET MAGAZINE MARCH 1, 2022

plot is imaginative and outlandish, yet cohesive and compelling. Each frame is animated with a painstaking complexity that makes it impossible to peel your eyes from the screen, no matter if it's your first or hundredth watch. The film tackles themes like love, identity, and greed through the story of Chihiro, a young girl who finds herself working in a bathhouse for spirits. So much more can be said about Spirited Away, but in short it's an adventurous and visually immaculate viewing experience I’d recommend to all.

–Jessa Glassman, Arts beat

What a Way to Go!

What a Way to Go! is a must–see for anyone who likes camp, costumes, crazy stacked casts, and witty socio–economic commentary.

The film stars Shirley MacLaine as a young woman whose husbands (played by Dick Van Dyke, Paul New-

man, Robert Mitchum, Gene Kelly, and Dean Martin) keep dying in strange accidents, leaving her richer and richer. The twist? This isn’t a Kiss of the Spider Woman saga—she’s miserable as she loses the men, often to greed and materialism. When you check out this oft–forgotten camp classic, note the hallmarks of those working behind the scenes: Watch for some of Edith Head’s most extravagant costume work and Comden and Green’s hints at metafilm in their last screenplay.

–Julia Polster, Film & TV beat

Veep

I’m a sucker for British black comedies: the politics, the blistering irreverence, the gratuitously phallic language. And Julia Louis Dreyfus is the gift that keeps on giving. With Veep, you get to have both. What should be a group of narcissistic, Machiavellian characters— whom I wouldn’t trust to tie my shoes, let alone run the

nation—is brought to life with such wit and humanity that I can’t help but root for them. The ensemble’s comedic repartee is mesmerizing.

They make me wish I had my own staff of ruthless, power–seeking sycophants.

Watching a group of adults being paid to prevent Selina Meyer from standing in front of rotating pork while she voices Israeli support is TV gold.

–Rachel Zhang, Multimedia associate

9–1–1: Lone Star

I’ll be the first to say that I’m not one for procedural drama shows, but there’s something about this one that drew me in. Was it that this 9–1–1 spin–off show was based in Texas, where I lived for nearly half of my life?

Was it because of the wonderful displays of diversity that didn’t sacrifice quality?

Was it because of Rob freaking Lowe? I can’t say.

The show excels in both its ability to weave many

FILM & TV

stories into one with its episodic storytelling and its character dynamics, especially between its main ship: T.K. Strand (played

by Ronen Rubinstein) and Carlos Reyes (played by Rafael L. Silva). It’s rare to see a queer relationship get so much focus in a prime time TV show, and comforting to see a healthy one that doesn’t come off as tokenistic. Likewise, we have the first Black transgender man on prime time television, a milestone that shouldn’t be understated, with his character being of no less importance than his cis counterparts. While Rob Lowe’s character might be a bit too progressive for Texas, that would be the only inauthentic aspect of a largely authentic show.

–Derek Wong, Music beat

Modern Family

Rewatching Modern Family has reminded me of the brilliance of the show. While most of the adult characters were pretty developed from the pilot, it’s been fun skipping through the 11 seasons and seeing how the child actors and their respective characters have aged and tackled new storylines from elementary school, high school, college, and even motherhood.

I also love every character despite the ensemble’s large size, which is a testament to the show’s script and storytelling. I haven’t seen a network show as endearing and memorable as this one since it premiered, with the exception of Abbott Elementary, which is gradually becoming a new favorite of mine.

–Jacob A. Pollack, Film & TV beat

Our Beloved Summer

K–drama rom–coms are my guilty pleasure, and Our Beloved Summer is the latest in a long line of K–dramas to capture my attention. Choi Woo– sik from the Oscar–winning film Parasite and Kim Da– mi from the unconventional Netflix favorite Itaewon Class come together in this 16–episode series to bring a compelling tale of heartbreak and reconciliation to life. After a documentary from their high school days goes viral, the protagonists find themselves entangled in each other’s lives, this time during adulthood, filming a new documentary together. The natural chemistry between polar opposites Kook Yeon–su, a fiercely independent workaholic, and Choi Ung, an introverted, free–spirited illustrator, is just the cherry on top to well–

written characters and a creative plot. This K–drama puts a comedic spin on the themes of empathy, unrequited love, and friendship, but somehow made me shed an unexpected amount of tears. If you’ve never ventured into the land of K–dramas, this is the perfect place to start.

–Cindy Zhang, Film & TV editor

Possession Love it or leave it, there’s no denying that Possession is a wild ride. It’s the story of a divorce, if divorce came with a splash of blood, a sex–crazed paranormal creature, and the odd murder or two. But that’s underselling the extent of Possession’s descent into madness; the sheer intensity of this two– hour feature will shock even the most hardened horror fans.

And while there’s murder and mayhem aplenty, it’s not the buckets of fake blood that will stick with you. Instead, the movie’s palpable sense of unease, of danger and uncertainty at every corner, will leave you tossing and turning.

The dialogue, which mixes stilted, eerie lines with primal screaming (courtesy of Isabelle Adjani) unsettles at every turn; even something as benign as a character sitting in a living room takes on a fever pitch in this nightmarish cult classic. Add Adjani’s no– holds–barred performance as Anna, the unhinged young divorcee, and you’ll have one of the most powerful, if polarizing, horror films ever made.

Whatever you take away from Possession, you’ll be marked by the cult classic long after the closing credits.

And good luck falling asleep!

–Irma Kiss Barath, Arts editor

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M A R C H 1 , 2 0 2 2 3 4 T H S T R E E T M A G A Z I N E 17

ST YLE

Playboy Bunnies, Hugh Hefner, and the Commodification of Sexual Abuse It’s not liberating to wear the Playboy bunny logo—it’s just excessively consumerist. | KIRA WANG Content warning: This article describes sexual abuse and assault, which may be disturbing and/or triggering for some readers.

Illustration by Sarah Tretler

T

he '90s are back—that includes the Playboy bunny logo adorning clothes everywhere. From jeans to duffel bags, almost every article of clothing is marked with this instantly recognizable symbol. Today, the Playboy bunny is so ubiquitous to the point where it seems like this tuxedo– clad bunny is being promoted as a retro icon that inspires nostalgia for the late 20th century.

But in light of recent and past allegations against Hugh Hefner and the Playboy franchise, the commercialization of the Playboy logo isn’t just strangely consumerist—it’s also dangerous.

When Playboy founder Hugh Hefner died in 2017, the media remembered him as a legendary hedonist that advocated for civil rights and open sexuality, dubbing him a “leader of the sexual revolution.” With countless obituaries and memorials dedicated to Hefner’s impact on pop culture, many glossed over the sexual abuse that Hefner and his magazine encouraged and, instead, romanticized his legacy. In fact, at the time of Hefner’s death, anyone who spoke ill of him was sent hate and death threats.

Prior to his death, Hefner was no stranger to sexual abuse allegations. With former Playmate Holly Madison chronicling her time in Hefner’s California estate in her 2015 novel, she “learned Hef was the manipulator and that he pitted [Playmates] against one another.” Similarly, according

to Kendra Wilkinson, another former Playmate, she “had to be very drunk or smoke lots of weed to survive [the nights she spent with Hefner]—there was no way around it.”

However, recent docuseries Secrets of Playboy reveals even more graphic details of life in the Playboy Mansion and the toxic role that Hefner played in commodifying abuse, such as constant surveillance of “Hef’s girls,” creating a cult of personality around himself, harmful “weigh–ins,” soliciting sex from minors, sexual assault, and more heinous crimes.

But not only has Hefner been alleged to be a violent misogynist who actively abused women on a daily basis—he also massively profited from it.

Despite the serious allegations against him, Hefner continued to financially benefit from his sexual abuse and objectification of women until the day of his death, with an estimated net worth of $50 million throughout his lifetime, all while portraying himself as a kind grand-

1 8 34TH STREET MAGAZINE MARCH 1, 2022

pa to the media.

However, Hefner’s alleged abuse wasn’t just enabled by the public—he was also celebrated for it. Not only did the public consistently buy Playboy merchandise, but they also overlooked the misogynist implications of outfits adorned with the Playboy logo. From the people who idolized his hedonism and ability to freely talk about sex to the news outlets that continuously painted him as the blueprint for the modern urban man, Hefner wasn’t seen as dangerous at all—he was seen as aspirational.

But even now, in spite of the concerning allegations against Hefner and the many criticisms raised against him regarding how the brand centered women and female sexuality around the male gaze, it still seems that Playboy is being romanticized to this very day.

Despite Playboy Magazine’s socially conscious rebrand as “a newer, woke–er, more inclusive Playboy,” its continued usage of iconography that symbol-

izes Playboy’s problematic past highlights how this rebrand should be taken at face value.

The recognizable nature of the Playboy logo funded a majority of Hefner’s wealth—not the pornography that defined the magazine. In fact, just two years before Hefner’s death, Playboy was said to make most of its money through licensing its logo. Even though Playboy may claim that they’ve changed their values after the Hefner family’s departure from the company, its logo still carries the same meaning it has held since its inception—it represents the ability to profit from violence, misogyny, and abuse.

The Playboy bunny icon communicates nothing about Playboy’s present values. All it does is symbolize its horrific past. By attempting to change the brand’s reputation while keeping its long–used logo, Playboy shows that their rebrand was simply to make the company profitable again.

Through this rebranding, the Playboy bunny is being

pushed as a harmless symbol of female sexuality rather than a symbol of abuse—and it’s being increasingly commodified in the process. With Playboy leveraging its memorable logo by collaborating with Pacsun and Dollskill to vintage Playboy shirts being sold on sites like Depop and Poshmark, the company is reemerging as an iconic throwback and shedding its reputation as a former vessel of violence against women.

While some may claim that these collaborations are in the name of “reclaiming female sexuality” by plastering the bunny on traditionally feminine clothing, it’s incredibly disingenuous to push for women to reclaim a symbol of sexual abuse so that the company responsible for this violence can profit from it.

With the Playboy bunny being so intertwined with Playboy’s violent past and Hefner’s acquired wealth, it’s impossible to separate the history of the brand from the logo. Because of this, the continued purchase of clothes adorned with the Playboy logo is an action that implicitly permits the company’s foundations of misogyny and sexual abuse in the name of consumption.

From Playboy’s plans to venture into the NFT and wellness industries, it seems clear that the logo still carries and will continue to wield immense power. Playboy’s rebrand doesn’t make its bunny a symbol of “girl power” or a representation of the “modern, liberated woman.” It merely highlights how carefully–thought–out rebrands to appease modern audiences combined with intense consumerism can sweep anything—even rape—under the rug.

ST YLE

Table for One

T

he misshapen soles of my olive–green converse whisper the stories of dozens of streets between San Francisco and Philadelphia. My father always says the best way to know a city is to walk its streets.

Before I bid farewell to beautiful San Francisco, I dip my toe in taking solo excursions. A city that once belonged to my grandparents and parents becomes my own as I explore its streets through my own eyes. Months later, Philadelphia is my opportunity to explore a vibrant community while fostering my sense of self.

Knowing a city is comfort and familiarity. You know the places you love, and the grooves on the sidewalk know you, too. I naively want to believe that a new city brings the same experience, ready for you to dive in head first.

But as transplants from every state in the United States and countries abroad, this city is not our claim. When community spaces beckon you to enter, know that awareness is your best companion.

With mindful exploration, Philadelphia becomes my reprieve from dreadful Friday mornings spent grueling over math quizzes and long evenings hunkered over the Moelis Family Grand Reading Room table. While many of my excursions are brief escapes, my roadmap to a perfect day would include caffeine, reading, art, and good food—always good food.

While I’ve never been an early riser by choice, the prospect of a killer smooth latte (iced and paired with a treat when I’m feeling frisky) and a well–loved, second–hand book is enough to wake me

A newbie’s guide to redefining the solo outing through Philadelphia gems | NATALIA CASTILLO from the dead of sleep. A brisk walk to Ultimo Coffee near Rittenhouse Square is a surefire way to jump start your morning.

Their latte and flourless chocolate cake are otherworldly and the perfect pick–me–up on a wet, dreary February morning. Once your drink of choice is secured and your brain hums along with the city’s early risers, it's only right to make your way to House of Our Own Books.

This unsuspecting bookstore sits at 3920 Spruce St., sleepily observing riotous students meandering home after nights crammed into its neighboring Greek homes.

Its minimal square–footage takes on qualities not unlike Mary Poppins’ never–ending carpet bag—engulfing all

who enter, defying all rules of space and time. Visitors may be pleasantly surprised to find treasures to fulfill their desires. Enter armed with your latte and baked goods, and exit with a new book to accompany you.

If you’re lucky enough, you might have the opportunity to share in the radically beautiful arts and culture hub that is The Rotunda. Nestled at 4014 Walnut St., just a stone’s throw from campus, this space takes on many identities and transforms to fit the needs of its people. If you plan ahead, you might schedule yourself a visit for one of their exhibits or even a community discourse. Art is visually interactive, beckoning observers to ponder an artist's meaning. Simultaneously, our relationship to art

and how we observe can be an introspective act, telling us far more about ourselves than we might realize.

After my feet carry me through the city, there is only one thing on my mind—a warm meal.

On a day when the sun breaks through the February chill, I can't help but feel hung out to dry. I crave sleep, a warm hug—even a home– cooked meal would do. But I am a woman on a mission.

Determined to conquer the final frontier of solo excursions, I set out toward 40th Street for dinner at U–Town, a cozy Korean restaurant nestled on a corner behind New College House West.

I find myself seated solo at the counter, warm spices of kimchi and other fermented banchan wafting from the

Illustration by Amy Krimm

kitchen—the smells and sounds of my childhood embrace me. Truly, the only embarrassment I encounter is my clumsy use of chopsticks, despite 20 years of trying. Belly full of Korean black–bean noodles and surrounded by diners sharing in one another’s company, I'm not alone.

I'm home.

I continue to thirst for solo excursions and self–exploration. I want to share the beauty of finding a companion within oneself. Yet, it’s impossible for me to write these stories and share these places without providing assurance.

Know that there is no shame in company or a lack thereof.

We are social creatures. We crave companionship and shy away from the unknown.

Arms linked or steps falling in stride with one another— company is comfort.

Maybe you’re apprehensive about a solo dinner in the dining hall, a visit to Kiwi for a sweet treat, or even a moment of peace on a Locust bench. Whatever it may be, reluctance to be unaccompanied is legitimate.

There is no shame in fear.

The beauty exists in recognizing where fear comes from and how to convey it. Whether it be big or small, the actions we take to know ourselves better can bring on world of clarity.

My time alone doesn’t detract from the joyful moments I share with others—they coexist. I am an amalgam of the love I have for others and the love I grow for myself. We don’t often value our own company to the extent we deserve. I hope that my experiences affirm you as you explore the beauty of self. Who knows what gems you might find along the way.

MARCH 1, 2022 34TH STREET MAGAZINE 19

ST YLE

YouTube: A Platform For The Modern Philosopher?

From Contrapoints to Shanspeare, these modern philosophers are paving the way to accessible intellectualism. | SHELBY ABAYIE

W

hat is a philosopher? Are they writing an academic paper from the comfort of a worn leather armchair in their roomy office? Or are they sitting upon a hill, gazing into the distance as they ponder the meaning of life? The philosopher has adopted many appearances and methods throughout different cultures. Today, the archetypal philosopher is seen as a middle–to–upper class, well–educated white man.

However, the rise of modern philosophers is actively challenging this perception and bringing new issues to light.

The modern philosopher has a YouTube channel, Twitter account, Instagram page, and even a podcast. These new methods of delivering information allow for more creativity and mass reach, compared to the traditional, often boring format of a long academic paper.

In a YouTube video, a modern philosopher can have a myriad of graphics and jokes to ease the learning process.

Depending on the philosophy channel, the topic in question can be explored with an extravagant theatrical flourish.

YouTubers like Contrapoints and PhilosophyTube analyze concepts like opulence and capital punishment while wearing intricate theme–related costumes in front of moody, scenic sets—a stark departure from the format of traditional Western philosophy.

Perhaps the most important aspect of YouTube's philoso-

phy side is its low barrier to entry. Anyone with a smartphone and internet connection can become a philosopher. This allows traditionally marginalized groups of people like LGBTQ people and BIPOC to enter the philosophy space and share their ideas and experiences.

things from more of a critical race theory lens," says Dante.

FD Signifier can take a unique perspective on issues like Black love and the evolution of hip hop because of his experience as a Black American. In traditional Western philosophy, Black

ing these things … [or] how it relates to us."

Despite the new perspectives that modern philosophy offers, naysayers may argue that creators aren’t philosophers, but simply people with opinions. To conflate a philosopher and a person with an opinion is wrong and all too

Illustration by Erin Ma Dante Diggs (W '22) is a fan of several philosophy YouTube channels such as FD Signifier, a Black creator that often covers the Black experience and expression of masculinity, and Shanspeare, a Black creator that frequently covers the Black experience and expression of femininity and gender.

"I focus less on the video topics and more on the person who's making the video.

Like FD Signifier, for example, and he writes a lot about like Black film and media, so I find that to be really fascinating [because he] analyzes

20 34TH STREET MAGAZINE MARCH 1, 2022

philosophers are often underrepresented and cast aside.

Additionally, in the teaching of philosophy in classrooms and lecture halls, students and teachers alike are majority white, creating spaces that aren't welcoming to the voices of people of color.

Dante says, "I don't feel like topics that relate to what I'm interested in in terms of critical race theory are explored in enough depth on any platform other than YouTube. I feel like it mostly has to do with the fact that [traditionally philosophy doesn't] spend a ton of time explain-

common. Philosophers use rigorous analysis to present a theory and rebuttal other theories. A person with opinions, simply argues on the basis of their different opinion and doesn’t have to prove why their opinion is reasonable or logical.

In traditional Western philosophy, journals, publishers, and other bodies of power make sure that the content is up to standard. But on platforms like YouTube, Twitter, Instagram, and more, there is no administrative body that determines if someone’s content is up to a robust

standard—the viewers are in charge of checking facts and evaluating arguments.

“For me, [I focus on] the quality of the arguments. As long as the information can be fact–checked and there are places to read about it or [information] in spaces other than on YouTube, then I think it’s okay. I'm not gonna [necessarily] take the YouTuber's word. Obviously, there are some points [from] folks I disagree with and I think that's important … [These videos are] more of a jumping—off point to learn more about [the topic discussed in the video],” says Dante.

With the power of viewers in mind, there are several unofficial checks and balances that keep content regulated.

For instance, viewers like Dante can take the theory presented in the video with a grain of salt and conduct their own research. In turn, if viewers see the YouTube philosopher as illogical and unreasonable, then they will stop watching the philosopher's content.

Regardless, modern philosophers offer nuanced and marginalized perspectives to a host of recent and historic issues. Because of this, their diverse perspectives allow for growth in the space of philosophy and the expansion of the minds of viewers. It seems clear that YouTube isn't just a space for comedy videos and makeup tutorials—it's also a place for accessible intellectualism and philosophical thought.

OVERHEARDS

Overheards 03.01.22 EEN EIGHTY–WHORE

"Honesty is a tool, not a policy."

O

IOLOGIST

"It's so funny what men will do in their communities."

BO

–C

SC

PEN

ET

R

"My sexual proclivities are inextricable from my need for capitalism to make me its little bitch."

NIN

LLY LIBERAL, FISCALLY CONSERVATIVE UA

BR

SEX

This week: ambitious arson, erotic embezzlement, and thoughtcrimes N

FACE PYROMANIAC

"I don’t get burnt out. I get burnt on."

HT AFFICIONADO

"I'm so pro–beets my pee is red."

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MARCH 1, 2022 34TH STREET MAGAZINE 21

UNDER THE BUTTON

BREAKING: Mini Pret to Be Built in Pret Inside Huntsman Hall MAYA KREGER

I

n an effort to streamline efficiency in the loving Wharton community and ease U.S.-French relations, a Mini Pret a Manger is set to be built inside the Pret located in Huntsman Hall. This new miniature Pret is undergoing rapid construction, thanks to funds being diverted from lesser institutions such as the Office of Financial Aid, community outreach, and the College of Arts and Sciences. This historic addition would mark a record as Huntsman Hall will

soon be the first building in over a century to house three gorgeous, gorgeous Prets!

No longer will you have to wait in line for an authentic, fresh from Paris, almond croissant on your way to money class, or whatever they teach there. Now, thanks to the new teeny tiny Pret, you can purchase a croissant with your hard-earned dining dollars in the itsy-bitsy Pret while in line for a steaming hot, watereddown coffee! This eenie-beanie Pret opens new avenues for ef-

ficiency within the fast-casual croissant business. And let me tell you, this business is a-boomin’.

While this itty bitty Pret solves the vast majority of the University’s immediate issues, there are some major disputes that can benefit from an even smaller Pret. To the relief of millions of concerned citizens, beloved French President Emmanuel Macron and Wharton Dean Erica H. James have entered a highstakes agreement to construct

Photo Courtesy of Maya Kreger a state-of-the-art microscopic Pret inside the mini Pret inside Huntsman. This decision has been heralded as a

triumph of international relations.

Welcome to the future and Vive la France!

OP-ED: My Dad Has a Lawyer, but Not in the Same Way Yours Does MAURA PINDER

Photo Courtesy of Pixabay / CC 2.0

I

t has recently been brought to my attention that many of my classmates’ parents have these nifty little helpers that they call "lawyers." I overheard a kid in my ECON 323 lecture explaining how his dad’s lawyer just made a huge insid-

er trading scandal "go away."

Then someone else jumps in and tells a story about their family’s lawyer who won some lawsuit involving some sort of union-busting lawsuit. Everyone sort of turns to me waiting for my legal anecdote, and in

22 34TH STREET MAGAZINE MARCH 1, 2022

that moment, I was infinite. I cleared my throat, blinked my eyes (blue) thrice, and adjusted my posture, I knew my status as a capitalist, Whartonite shit would be solidified.

Long story short, the state appointed lawyer expunging two of my dad's three DUIs from his record is apparently not a great social bargaining chip, and is, in the words of the girl who sits next to me in ECON, "sad." Now here's where I'm confused ... Why is my dad's lawyer not as cool as everyone else’s? The law offices of Hugh, Janus, and

Cox have done great things for my family, why should I not be allowed to bask in the glory of my father cheating the United States government in a completely legal sense like everyone else does?

Now, I'm not a lawyer myself (but I could be, I just don't feel like it) but does our great United States Constitution not declare that everyman is equal? My dad's lawyer, who I get to call Jerry, is really cool, I just wish my classmates would give him a chance. When I started telling everyone how Jerry

got my dad's second DUI thrown out of court by arguing that the cop who arrested him was gay, everyone just got quiet, and one girl texted me after class to ask if I "needed someone to talk to."

Upon reflection, I am proposing that NONE of us talk about our lawyers, that way nobody feels left out. In this vein of thought we should probably also all avoid talking about our summer internships, cars, summer homes, spring break plans, and what we did last weekend.

UNDER THE BUTTON

Self-Help: Help Yourself to Another Brownie :) IAN ONG

I

n the harsh, perpetually spinning hamster wheel that is our modern life, it is important for each and every one of us to remember to slow down and engage in self-help from time to time. Doing so can be life-changing; self-help is an intrinsically introspective process that will allow you to discover new things about yourself — new powers that you have yet to harness.

Beginning your self-help journey is simple: Just go ahead and help yourself to one of those delicious brownies on the counter :) yeah, mmmm… melts right in

the mouth, isn’t that good? :) the perfect amount of flakiness and gooiness, oh sweet Lord :) okay, now help yourself to another one :) :) Baby Jesus, that’s the ticket :) yummm :) :) keep helping yourself :) :) :) :) :) don’t stop, baby :) forget about your abusive family and passionless relationship :) :) ohh, did that one have fudge inside??? :) :) :) Hell YEAH! :) :) :) :) :) man, why didn’t you do selfhelp earlier? :) :) :) this is a-w-e-so-m-e :) :) :) :) :) :) okay, another one :) :) ohhh :) :) :) :) yeah, oh yeah, this is heaven :) don’t stop me now :) I’m having a good

time, having a good time :) :) :) sheeeeesh, did they put crack in these things or something :) :) :) :) :) :) :) oh shoot, haha :) maybe they did Ahahahaha :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) oh, another brownie?

Don’t mind if I do, mademoiselle :) :) Holy Guac of Saint Peter I’ve never felt more fulfilled in my life :) :) :) :) this stuff works, man :) I LOVE SELF-HELP :) :) God, I love helping myself :) y-yeah :) oh, yeah…

Yeah……. :| ummmh……. :/ hmm…….

Mmm……. :(

Photo by Wendy / CC BY 2.0

OP-ED: Gays Are in Stem Only Because It’s Like Pills and Potionsutes JOSH MUKHERJEE

A

little drop of this, a splash of that: I’m just here to have fun, make potions, and watch RuPaul’s Drag Race when my TA isn’t looking. I love my chemistry lab. As a gay man in STEM, this is my calling.

I purposefully run my titrations past the end point just so my solution can turn bright pink. I love pink. Pink is my favorite color, even though pink is usually for girls. I'm so silly and girl-like in this manner!

I frolic around my lab

Photo by 123RF.com

bench, flirting with other boys and knocking over glassware. Sometimes, I don't even know what I'm doing! I just run around in my rainbow patterned shoes and giggle. I have to let my heterosexual lab partner take over pretty often—and that’s okay.

I show up religiously to my biology lectures, strutting down to the front row of my lecture hall. Other students look on, probably very jealous, as I take out my Rose Gold MacBook Air. I take so many notes on my Rose Gold

MacBook Air. For hours, I type and I type on my Rose Gold MacBook Air. I take chemistry with me

wherever I go, making sure that I have my little bottle of poppers on me at all times.

It’s important to fully com-

mit to this science-oriented lifestyle I live. And to my fellow queers in STEM, keep slaying!

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