November 2014 by Evelyn atieno

THANKS FOR PURCHASE MORE SPACE LOREM

Magazine

WaysToBe Culturally Aware

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November 2014

CONTENT My Battle With My Weight

Being Private, In Public

17-19 November

2014

My Battle With My Weight

Opposite Of Loneliness

Style Spotlight

Beat The Cold

Increase Your Cultural Awareness

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4-7

Afffiinity Magazine Love Shouldn’t Hurt

Style Spotlight

10-11

21-24 Being Private, In Public

Love Shouldn’t Hurt

I had a lot of fun creating the November issue! Fall is my favorite season ever, so the cover I believe depicted fall at it’s most beautiful prime, when the leaves are orange, and the most beautiful. This magazine alot talks about alot of real issues happening right now with teenagers. Hopefully you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed creating it!

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Inspirational

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THANKS FOR PURCHASE MORE SPACE LOREM

My Battle With My Weight By: Stephanie S.

As I sat on the side of the middle school athletics field, my pink and green L.L.Bean backpack rubbed up against the rusted brown fence. A herd of adolescent boys in muddy tennis shoes raced down the field, and from a distance I could see my brother standing in the deserted end zone jumping up to score the winning touchdown. It brought a smile across my face as his teammates cheered for him. The bright green stains ran down the sides of these pre-teen boys’ clothes, and I could already hear the disappointed groans of their mothers realizing they would have to wash them later that night. When the game ended so did the cheers for my brother. The boys started walking towards the fence I was sitting against. They started chanting something new, but this time I was not smiling,”Tubby” is what one boy called me. When the other young boys stated laughing along with him I laughed too. I have always wanted to be funny instead of being made fun of, so I thought “all right brush it and turn it into a joke”. They thought it was funny to point out my biggest flaw -literally. It was the first time I had ever even thought about my weight. I never thought I looked different from my other, much smaller friends, but then I looked at the pictures and realized I was a lot different. In my fifth-grade math class, we learned about multiplication and division. We also learned about all different shapes and how they can be different sizes. There is one thing I specifically remember my teacher saying to our class; a triangle can be three times the size of another triangle, but at the end of the day they are still both triangles. This

phrase is something I have carried with me all of my life and will never forget that day I heard it. I was the bigger triangle in this metaphor. When I realized that I was larger, I did not change my eating habits. I ate what I wanted to while my mom was not watching and then ate what my mom made me eat when she was. I had no self-control of what I put into my body; I was only eleven. I wanted to look like my friends, and I wanted to be chased on the playground by boys just like they had been. So I started running, but I only ran at night because I did not like when people watched me struggle to keep apace. I would run for hours (or at least it felt like it) and then do more exercise when I got home. That was the first time I think I ever worked out on my own. I was not exactly losing the extra weight I had on my body because I was not eating well enough, and I know that today.

One of the most common awkward stages of people’s lives was middle school; for myself, awkward was an understatement. As I matured I learned more about my body. During this period, I was consistently called names, and I grew to be more insecure with myself, but never let anyone see that side of me. I have always loved jokes. The uncontrollable smile you can give someone just from saying something funny amazes me that a single punch line can take away the pain of something as horrible as being bullied. I loved to laugh it off with other people that “I was fat” or how many rolls I had on my stomach or my chin. It made me feel more DESIGN MGZ 6 | 5

My freshman year of high school I thinned out as I went through puberty, and worked out more rigorously. The opposite sex finally noticed me. These were uncharted waters for me, and I did not mind this attention either. As the years progressed so did, my body but the negative comments from people never changed; I was still and will always be an easy target for people to slam on a daily basis. High school was the hardest four years of my life, and I am so glad I went through it the way I did. I would not be a strong level headed woman I am today. My senior year was the hardest year out of it all. I was going through many relationship problems with my family, my boyfriend, and friends. I chose to eat poorly and be negative towards myself. I looked on social media and believed all the things people were saying about me. I thought it must be true if this many people are agreeing. “The world will be a better place when Steph Stuehler gets on her plane and goes away” for the rest of my life I will always remember reading this over and over again. I then became obsessed with what people were saying about me. Except this time instead of running or working out because I was upset, I went to parties. The spontaneousness of each party made my blood pump through my body (that and the alcohol), and I liked the feeling of not having to feel anything. I could forget all of the terrible things people had said about me just by being sur-

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rounded by friends, food, and a beer or three. Throughout high school, I was surrounded by people that didn’t genuinely care about me or even know anything about me. These people knew my name and loved to say it aloud and behind my back a lot. In my lifetime I have been called a man, transvestite, kankle girl, fat, tubby, and many more that you would not even believe people could come up. The one thing that motivated me to change my lifestyle was being called a “whale” on social media. Whales are the single largest living

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I looked on social media and believed all the things people were saying about me. I thought it must be true if this many people are agreeing. “The world will be a better place when Steph Stuehler gets on her plane and goes away

“

comfortable with myself and made me feel like the people that surrounded me were my friends. I liked the attention I was getting.

thing on the planet so you can only imagine how bothered I was by it. This was not the first time I have been called a “whale” before, but this was the first time it had been publicly displayed and said to my face. That day I reevaluated my eating habits, what I spent doing during my free time, and who were my actual friends. Getting a gym membership was the best decision ever. Paying for something out of my pocket motivated me to go to the gym every day. I wanted results, and I wanted them fast. I became disappointed and aggravated when I did not lose twenty pounds overnight. I

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In my life time I have been called a man, transvestite, kankle girl, fat, tubby, and many more that you wouldn’t even believe people could come up. The one thing that really motivated me to change my lifestyle was being called a “whale” on social media.

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realized losing weight is a slow process, and it was not easy. You have to want to change, and you have to believe in yourself. Now today I stand before you forty pounds lighter than I was in the spring of 2014. No one is perfect I will always strive to be better than I already am. I am simply a work in progress. If I could give someone that is struggling to lose weight any advice at all, it would be to stop competing with others and to start competing with yourself. Daily exercise helps me relieve any stress I may have and helps me feel better about myself. Now that I have lost weight I have had people say I am too skinny, but my doctor says I am healthier than ever, and that is the only person I listen to. The same people that call you fat are going to call you anorexic. Jealousy is a disease, and most people are sick. I have come to the realization that people are always going to talk, so why don’t you give them something to talk about?

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Books

The Opposite Of Loneliness “We’re so young. We’re so young. We’re twenty-two years old. We have so much time”. A week after Marina Keegan wrote those words, she unfortunately died in a car accident with a life ahead of her. Her memory has been cemented in a new book called, The Opposite of Loneliness. The book is a collection of all her essays and short stories. IMAGES TAKEN BY Keegan Family

TEXT WRITTEN BY Evelyn Atieno

Marina was a student at Yale, whose poise and talent had landed her a job at the New Yorker after graduation. She gained national attention from her piece called “Even Artichokes Have Doubts,” an essay about why so many Yale students go into finance an consulting. The essay said that people went into finance because it was safe: they knew they would make much money and live comfortable. An excerpt from the essay held true to this point. Marina’s friend, Shloe Carbib stated, ““Of course I don’t want to be a consultant,” she said the night before, clutching a borrowed copy of Mark Cosentino’s “Case in Point” (the aspiring-consultant bible), “It’s just very scary to watch as many of your friends have already secured six-figure salaries and are going to be living in luxury next year. I am trying to fig-

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ure out if I love art enough to be poor.” Marina died a week later after graduation in a car accident on her way to Cape Cod to visit her family. Her last essay, The opposite of Loneliness, has become one of the most beautiful pieces I have read in the past year. It is vulnerable and passionate. Something I admired about Marina’s work as I read her book.”There’s this sentiment I sometimes sense, creeping in our collective conscious as we lay alone after a party, or pack up our books when we give in and go out – that it is somehow too late. That others are somehow ahead. More accomplished, more specialized. More on the path to somehow saving the world, somehow creating or inventing or improving. That it’s too late now to BEGIN a beginning and we must settle for continuance, for commencement”. Those inspiring words were the last written by Marina Keegan. Although she did not get to reach her full potential or have a new beginning, she has made a huge impact after death with her written works.

“So what I’m trying to say is you should text me back. Because there’s a precedent. Because there’s an urgency. Because there’s a bedtime. Because when the world ends I might not have my phone charged and If you don’t respond soon, I won’t know if you’d wanna leave your shadow next to mine.”

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Isi’s World 10 | DESIGN MGZ 6

Style Spotlight

I recently met this style maverick while at my internship. Her name is Isi. She is a style blogger over at her website Babysorrela.com. At the age of 18 she is already setting trends, and also following them! She plans on being a TV personality at E! So Guilana watch out! Follow her fashion excursions at Babysorrela.com

Charlotterusse.com, $40.99

Thehut.com,$15.00

Newlook.com, $13.00

Dailylook.com,$39.99

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Beat The Cold!

As the colder months approach, we will need to layer up. Layers can sometimes make you look like unflattering and huge. Here are some very stylish and flattering ways to stay warm featuring The J.crew Excursion Vest and Field Jacket. They are classic staples that go with everything.

Plaid Shirt

Striped Shirt

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Polka Dot Shirt

Neon Shirt

ket, jewerly is Since this is a simple jac will overshadow key. A nice simple watch bulky bracelets.

a f, it adds r a c s y s s Add a sa your look. to chic vibe

Most importantly, a bold lip will stand out among the green.

Layers are important! A simple top under makes the jacket casual.

The Downtown Field Jacket Retails $148 The Excursion Vest Retails $78

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Life IMAGES Not Property Of Affinity.

TEXT WRITTEN BY Julia Schemmer

3 Ways To Increase Your The world is moving fast, and so are the people in it. As our nation turns on their phones for not just communica-

Cultural Awareness

tion, but for social media, work, news, weather, traffic, and even recreation, we are slowly losing our connectivity to different cultures. The world events only show the reality that different cultures are being introduced to the American landscape, and our reaction to these cultures can make or break America’s spirit of liberty and equality. Here are three simple ways you can increase your cultural awareness:

1. Read.

One of my mentors once told me “leaders are readers.” If you want to be successful and have the ability to understand different beliefs and viewpoints, then you must be a reader. Some of my favorite books to read include Pride and Prejudice, Les Miserables, and To Kill a Mockingbird. Although Old English may cause you to roll your eyes, if you muster the strength to pay attention to the work’s message, you may find yourself understanding and relating to people in a whole new way.

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My dad and I like to explore different cultural supermarkets, and from the experiences we’ve had, we’ve gained a raw insight into their culture. For example, there is a large Chinese supermarket by our house, complete with a bakery, tea shop, and more.

We often go there to try their latest bakery item, walk around and observe the different foods, and talk to the people buying the food. You don’t have to travel to a different country to learn about a new culture; it starts in your own hometown! 3. Have fun. Did you know that November is National American Indian Heritage Month?! To celebrate, consider throwing a cultural bash with your family or friends! I’m part Native American, specifically from the Chickasaw tribe, so all month long I’ll be listening to Chickasaw Radio, reading Native American legends, and of course, trying my hand at a new recipe. Cultural awareness is meant to be fun, and through celebrations like this, it can be!

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Cover

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Being Private, In Public

“ford“Weyour can no longer aftuition at McDonogh”

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This November marks two years since my life changed drastically. It was earlier in the month, and the temperatures had just begun shimmying down to where it was cold enough for a fire. My mom and dad had their nightly talks in my dad’s “den”, a modest room reserved for small mountain chains of files from work. I could hear my mother’s voice, strained, calling me into the room amidst the staggered crackling of firewood burning. I thought nothing of it, as I skipped down the stairs, my thoughts fluttered to what I was going to wear for spirit week at my school, McDonogh. As I entered the room, my mom was looking downwards, tracing the eloquent pattern of the rug with her eyes. It seemed as though they were rimmed with moisture, or it could have been just the heat from the fire making her eyes water. Nonetheless, I dismissed it until my mom, and I made eye contact. She was softly uttering the phrase,“We can no longer afford your tuition at McDonogh”, a single tear escaped. My heart plummeted. What just happened? What does this mean? I sat in silence, refusing to process the train of information that just slammed my body all at once. I stared at the ground, and my stomach seemed as though it plunged six feet. Why me? Why does this have to happen? I understood our family was having financial issues, but I didn’t know it had to come to them taking away the single most important thing that had happened to me. There are negative connotations that string along with private schools, and for most of them, I can vouch for being correct. All my life I have been educated in small private schools, and unfortunately I experienced the slew of these stereotypes from fifth to eighth grade at a rigorous and exclusive school in Baltimore. If you want to talk about “bad middle school experiences”, I could write you a novel and a half about how cruel small herds of prepubescent girls can be. Onions in my locker, dumping salt in my chocolate milk (without my knowledge), stealing my clothes in my gym locker, physical as well as mental abuse, endless cyber bullying, you name it. It seemed as though the indignity would never end. However thankfully, there was a dim, but shining light at the end of the tunnel. My sister, two years older than me, at the time, was attending the McDonogh School. She would come home and her face would light up as she told me and my parents stories of her day, the stimulating labs in science and the entertaining teachers in English and history. I casually applied as an incoming freshman, and got accepted. It was a brand new experience I was being thrown into, and I was totally unprepared. I was unprepared for the amount of genuinely kind people accepting me into the McDonogh community with open arms. I realized that maybe not everyone’s soul was riddled with corrupt intentions. During my short time at McDonogh, I thrived. My heart swelled with all of the friendships I was making. I loved my teachers, and I was truly

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prospering. It was kind of my “renaissance” era after the black rolled around, and before I knew it, I was taking a different route to plague of my middle school years. As you can probably imagine, school. Instead of taking 695, I cruised down Towsontown Boulehearing that it would all be ripped from my clutches was probably vard. Instead of turning onto McDonogh road, I was turning onto the most heartbreaking thing I could ever envision. To be cliché, Aigburth. The morning of my first day was a rough one, my phone that winter was an extremely emotional rollercoaster. At the ripe kept illuminating and buzzing with texts and well wishes from my age of sixteen, I began hangMcDonogh friends. This all fueing out with the wrong crowd led the tears that didn’t seem outside of school, doing things to stop that day, I was a black that no vulnerable sixteen-yearIt was kind of my “renaissance” era sheep in a vast field of white old girl should ever do or expesheep. I was born and raised after the black plague of my midrience. This was kind of my “reon prestigious private school dle school years. bellious phase”, rioting against education, I didn’t belong at my parents for abandoning me a meek public school. My one to survive in the public school saving grace, though, were the system in the next coming year. three friends I am so thankful Months crept by, proving the inevitable, my time as a McDonogh for. Their kind hearts reached out to me and befriended this eseagle ended in late May. tranged private school girl. My junior year was a rocky transition It was an average summer before my junior year at Towson High into reality, almost like when the wheels of a colossal 747 plane School, nothing was really worth remembering or writing down as touchdown on the runway at 120 miles per hour. Without these “the best summer of my teenage years”. The last week of August girls, however, it could have been much worse. They adopted me

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I understood our family was having financial issues, but I didn’t know it had to come to them taking away the single most important thing that has happened to me.

“

I could write you a novel and a half about how cruel small herds of prepubescent girls

can be. Onions in my locker, dumping salt in my chocolate milk (without my knowledge), stealing my clothes in my gym locker, phys-

“

ical as well as mental abuse, endless cyber

bullying, you name it.

and showed me the public school lifestyle, and how it wasn’t as bad as I originally thought.I am still slightly bitter about the whole ordeal, but I am blessed to have the option to regularly see some of my closest friends from McDonogh. As for school spirit, my heart still belongs to my eagles. You won’t see me parading around the school shouting “TGOD!” at the top of my lungs with my face painted maroon. I must admit though, I did wear some Towson gear for my last Towson spirit day. However, this experience has taught

me so much about maturity and overcoming obstacles that are sometimes out of your control. You know the saying “I bleed (insert color here)”? Well, I still, and forever will, bleed orange and black. But there might be some maroon mixed in somewhere in there.

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Love Shouldnt Hurt By: Kayla Bossenbury

1 in 4 dating teens are harassed online or through texts by their partners.

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Dating When you’re a teen and in a relationship, it’s everything. It can easily become your whole world, and you so fearlessly fall in love. But sometimes that perfect love that you’ve found isn’t so perfect. Sometimes that love breaks you down mentally and physically. Over 12 million people over the course of the year are victims of domestic violence. 12 million people. Those 12 million aren’t just adults and aren’t just women. It’s men and women. It’s adults, teens and even children. In 2011, a survey was conducted amongst high school students, and the results found that 9.4% of the students reported being hit, slapped, or physically hurt on purpose by their boyfriend or girlfriend. But dating violence doesn’t stop there. Amongst teens, emotional, verbal and digital abuse is much more common. Growing up I knew that if I was ever dating someone who physically harmed me in any way than the relationship was over, and I’d be out. I never learned about the other ways a relationship was toxic though. It was never something my parents taught me; it was never something my school taught me either. Telling you that you can never do something right, showing jealousy of your friends and time spent away, keeping you or discouraging you from seeing your friends, controlling what you post online or you text are just a few of the red flags and warnings signs of a toxic relationship. It’s hard to think that any kind of harm your significant other causes they mean to do when you’re young and in love. Though, this can happen to anyone who is in love, not just those who are young and “don’t know any better.” (Quite frankly, I hate that phrase because that’s never an excuse.) It’s very easy though to let someone into our heads and clouds our minds into a warped reality that just causes our pain.

It’s very easy though to let someone into our heads and clouds our minds into a warped reality that just causes our pain.

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series on Instagram will spark curiosity and create Some people have been asking me why I’m so a conversation. passionate about this topic. Here is why: when I was in college, I was a part of a sorority, whose So when do we learn? When do we learn how to national and local philanthropy was domestic vi- express ourselves in ways that aren’t harmful to the person we’re datolence awareness. A ing? When do we learn great amount of my that it’s ok talk about time in college I spent In 2011, a survey was conducted amongst high how we feel? The time doing events to raise school students, and the results found that 9.4% to start talking is now. money for our local of the students reported being hit, slapped, or The time to start teachshelter house, volunphysically hurt on purpose by their boyfriend or ing is now. The time teering there and raising girlfriend. to start educating ourawareness for the issue. selves is now, and the It’s an issue that until younger we learn, the then I honestly never rebetter. Once you learn ally paid attention to, but now its one I refuse to ignore. I am very thankful for I have never been in an you’ll be able to not only help yourself but help abusive relationship, but I know that what is hap- your friends as well. You never know, you could pening is wrong, and I’m fighting for change. My even help save someone’s life. A good place to hope is that something simple as posting a photo start learning and even get help if you’re currently

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So when do we learn? When do we learn how to express ourselves in ways that aren’t harmful to the person we’re dating? When do we learn that it’s ok talk about how we feel?

A good place to start learning and even get help if you’re currently in a abusive relationship is the National Domestic Violence Awareness Hotline, or you can call 1.800.799.7233. Together we can help end the silence because love shouldn’t hurt.

in a abusive relationship is the National Domestic Violence Awareness Hotline, or you can call 1.800.799.7233. Together we can help end the silence because love shouldn’t hurt. Check out more at http://karlalynboss.tumblr.com

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