FALL 2018
THE AUDACITY ISSUE 6
CREDITS
Staff Editor-in-Chief Creative Director Head of Layout & Design Head of Social Media Social Media Assistant
Erin Kuykendall Melina Perez Gabrielle Aguilar Maiya Evans Autumn Stabeno
Contributors Photographer (Milagros; Earth Angels)
Taylor Hall Miguel, Ruby Meza, Emily Nash
Model (Milagros)
Maiya Evans
HMUA (Milagros; Earth Angels; The New Stepford)
Stylist (It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue; The New Stepford) Model (Earth Angels) Stylist (Earth Angels)
Meagan Otten
Osasu Iyawe, Christian Kenoly, Kalen McGuire Maiya Evans, Christian Kenoly
Photographer (Lovers in Lonely Parks) HMUA (Lovers in Lonely Parks; The New Stepford)
Dorothea Robinson Mariam Ali Anna Strother
Melina Perez Arianna Hadjebian, Kaylee Johnson, Kevin Le, Syd Martin, Deb Navarro, Josh Winn
Stylist (Lovers in Lonely Parks) Model (Lovers in Lonely Parks)
Kate Mulligan SJ Anderson, Tosin Anjorin, Maiya Evans, Erin Kuykendall, Meagan Otten, Anna Strother
Photographer (The New Stepford) Model (The New Stepford)
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Photographer (It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue) Kate Dannenmaier Photo Composition (It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue) Gabrielle Aguilar Model (It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue) Christina Martin, Srija Seenivasan Makeup (It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue) Katie Muecke Hair (It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue) Maiya Evans
CONTENTS
Contents Staff Photos 04 Earth Angels 06 The New Stepford 14 Milagros 26 It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue 36 FALL 2018 : ISSUE 6
Lovers in Lonely Parks 44
Acknowledgements The Audacity is extremely grateful to Revival Vintage, Blue Elephant Boutique and Beehive Boutique for their continued support in allowing us to shoot with their beautiful clothing.
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Editor in Chief Erin Kuykendall
Creative Director Melina Perez
Head of Layout & Design Gabrielle Aguilar 4
Head of Social Media Maiya Evans
Social Media Assistant Autumn Stabeno
Meet the Staff 5
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Earth Angels
STORY
“I fell for you and I knew The vision of your loveliness I hope and pray that someday That I’ll be the vision of your happiness….”
A
ngels are our gentle guardians. They radiate love and kindness towards all of humanity. Sadly, our friends in the clouds have largely been characterized as
white. Earth Angels aims to not only dispel these destructive stereotypes, but also to integrate a nuanced narrative of sensitivity and blackness. Perceptions of black masculinity through these popular heavenly representations. Society’s mental gap between black men and innocence must be bridged. Black men are not thugs, or gangsters, or criminals. Black men are not the boogeyman or whatever other thing that goes *bump* in the night. Black men are emotionally and be seen as such without being scrutinized or emasculated. The only way we are ever going to be able to view these enigmatic, ethereal creatures is by challenging systematic oppression, breaking up the toxic relationship between media, race, and
vilification, and stop crying wolf on the culture. Their presence is not a crime, but their inability to partake in true expression might be. The protection of supremacy has been an ongoing trend and we must say, “No More”. We must challenge how we understand privilege, because privilege has little to nothing to do with what you’ve gone through. Privilege is about what you haven’t been forced to do. Simultaneously reclaiming black masculinity and innocence isn’t aggressively asserting dominance or feigning naiveté, but rather an acceptance of humanity and an embracing of emotional expression. So, when you think of angels, think of Black people, okay? Christian Kenoly and Maiya Evans 8
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complex, and they are more than deserving of opportunities to display sensitivity
EARTH ANGELS
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EARTH ANGELS
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STORY
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t’s not so much that times are changing. It’s more as if the fog is slowly receding, a flickering lamp held against the curtain as it pulls away from our neighborhoods. Perhaps for the first time in your life, you can see clearly into the house of your neighbor. What you see isn’t always a white woman making a casserole for her white husband and 2.5 kids.
The New Stepford is vibrant and it violently resists the dangerous implications of an administration who would try and erase us. Identities are complicated and nuanced, and our roles within the modern household must also reflect these varying shades. And no, officer, we have no idea who poisoned our wealthy conservative husbands. Erin Kuykendall 14
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In our neighborhood, what you see is what’s always been but has been covered. The new and real Stepford is every neighborhood in the US. It’s women loving women, black women, Arab women, Latina women, all women of color and religion, trans women, non-binary people, trans men, men of color, men who love men, and everyone who can agree that basic respect and freedom is what every single person unequivocally must be given.
The New Stepford FALL 2018 : ISSUE 6
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THE NEW STEPFORD
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STORY
Mountain Flower
Andrea Volken
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i am made from ragged ridges and rivers running backwards burning fire, wildflowers growing out of rocks at altitude. i control the tides even on my weakest days, i do not live beneath your thumb, i am made of truth when i stack my bones on top of each other every morning, i uncover love and name it, i will never be undone.
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THE NEW STEPFORD
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THE NEW STEPFORD
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MEDIUM
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NAME
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Milagros
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STORY
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MILAGROS
For My Brother I pray for my enemy. I hope he sees the damage done That fear and pain are all he has won. I wish for each evening to bring serenity Of a loving, safe and happy family. I pray for my enemy. I beg for God to spare his son Of that deep hatred born of love. I yearn for his soul to be free To seek true peace From sea to shining sea.
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I pray for my enemy. I pray the next time he speaks He thinks of his mother; Of her gentle strength, Her warm embrace. I pray he thinks of my own And sees how much I love her. I pray for you, my enemy. I pray that God’s love finds you; That you look up one day, Awake And wonder... Why would we hate And hurt each other? I pray you see, You know, You feel That in God’s eyes You are my brother. Ruby Meza 29
STORY
ometeotl tlazocamti antepasados agua tierra azul luna tranquila un sacrificio de sangre adentro, una rosa espina
la gente del Sol, en la nubes Lxs montañas de Monterrey Creator, Allah, Holy Spirit that moves through walls, guide us at these times of confusion Show us a path out from the Forest, and we will see the Trees lluvia en el desierto fuego en el frío estoy llamando Miguel
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la luz de Quetzalcoatl la fuerza de Tezcatlipoca danos protecciones por lxs desaparecidxs, lxs pobres, lxs olvidados, lxs niñxs hambrientxs proteger mi gente,
MILAGROS
Padre nuestro— Mami always said that if ever I felt sad, scared, or lonely, I could always turn to you for light and guidance. So, I come before you now, Dios, in these times of darkness. Sometimes when I least expect it, I can feel my family’s hopes and dreams running through my veins, a stream of prayers that give me the will and the energy to work hard for myself, for those who came before me, and for those who will come after me. During harder times, my bones rattle from the hurt and the trauma my family survived so that I could live a happy and prosperous life.
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I know that my mami dreams of her beloved Honduras everyday— despite the blood and the fear that has plagued our countries, the big green mountains, the boys playing soccer in the dirt roads, and the smells that fill the streets still bring her comfort. I know that others like her do the same, but many who have been less lucky dream from the terror of freezing cells, begging you, Diosito, to reunite them with their babies, here or back home. I come to you, Padre, to never let us forget the beauty of our countries. To give mi gente the strength to fight on. To help them feel the endurance and resilience of our ancestors. To let them hold their children, their children for whom they crossed deserts, rivers, and gave everything for. In these trying times, Padre, let people see that mi gente are just men and women dreaming of a better life, with hearts filled with love for their hijos. Padre nuestro, I ask you today to give us hope for a peaceful future. En el nombre del Padre, del Hijo, y del Espíritu Santo, Amén. Emily Nash
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ILLUSTRATION
Monica Balderas
Often I find myself resenting it when people ask me how I am or how I’m doing because it’s like, do you blow it off with a casual response or do you reply honestly? Is it worth it to get into the intricacies of your feelings with this person? Overall, I think the piece just conveys a feeling of helplessness that is hard to overcome.
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I really wanted to make a piece that portrayed how I’ve felt this semester since I’ve never struggled so much in college thus far.
MONICA BALDERAS
IT’S ALL OVER NOW, BABY BLUE
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It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue 37
STORY
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IT’S ALL OVER NOW, BABY BLUE
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STORY
Cathartic, defined as a purgative drug. Crying frees us of emotions we shouldn’t withhold, cathartic. It’s a channel for sympathy and a reminder of our tenderness. It’s a conversation without words, and a release when you have nothing to say. Who said crying was a form of weakness? With it comes recognition, confusion, acceptance, denial, peace, joy, grief. It’s very brave to want to feel something rather than nothing, even if you’re unsure what those feelings are going to be. In a world telling you to suck it up, it’s okay to cry. Ebanie Griffith
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tears comprised of hot words, warm emotions drying cold. the color blue, passion’s closest associate. a confession of your own vulnerability finally reaching your own lips as it makes its way down your chest. it’s a powerful feeling, getting to know yourself. blue really can be the warmest color.
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IT’S ALL OVER NOW, BABY BLUE
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Lovers in Lonely Parks THE AUDACITY
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NAME
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LOVERS IN LONELY PARKS
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e love love, in all its many shapes and forms. Especially in light of the current administration’s open attack on trans and non-binary individuals, we are afraid for our friends and for ourselves. Please know–we will continue to fight.
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Visibility and representation have always been huge and important steps in the battle for equality. With this shoot, we wanted to put the beauty of LGBT+ love right at the forefront, where it can’t be ignored or looked around. It is not abstract. It is right here, and it is love, honest and potent. In the words of Gabriel Garcia Marquez, there is “no god worth worrying about” who would rebuke it. Erin Kuykendall
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LOVERS IN LONELY PARKS
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STORY
it’s amazing how much you’d do to be known by strangers when I have known you and loved you for so - long
when did you realize I wasn’t enough and why didn’t you tell me? Anna Strother
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you want your name to be heard across the world when I’ve never tired of hearing it all this time
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LOVERS IN LONELY PARKS
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NAME
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LOVERS IN LONELY PARKS
Eve You were easy on the eyes And delicate on my skin With those blood stained lips of yours, Those sweet apple kisses. FALL 2018 : ISSUE 6
The kind that dripped down the sides of my mouth-Sticky. The kind that left a bitter taste-Perhaps a poison? A serpent bleeding venom, A sting sunk deep in my flesh. I licked you up with my tongue, Sated my holy body And hardly even noticed a mark. Gabrielle Aguilar
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LOVERS IN LONELY PARKS
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LOVERS IN LONELY PARKS
This body is not yours to punish, but mine to mutilate This name is not yours to decide, but mine to dictate FALL 2018 : ISSUE 6
My being is not yours to criticize but mine to liberate I’ll stand with those before and after me: we have nothing to lose but our chains Syd Martin
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LOVERS IN LONELY PARKS
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STORY
Codependent At some time there was Milk- the milk of your touch Innocent like strawberry Milk dripping down a toddler’s Arm, chubby with childhood dreams And pink as chiffon In a shop window.
The putty of our bodies mold And twist into each other. Our colors muddy up, We stick to each other Like rain, Crying angels and gods Coating our skin in holy love. We give each other These chapped hands, Our broken lips. We reach out to Our growing, embryonic hearts Swallowing them whole. Anna Piper 64
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Once it was there, A finger worming in a stomach, A tickle in the back of the throat- a sickness. I have not coughed you up. You revel in the bile, in the blood, Comfortable in reds and blacks And blank Spaces like blank stares Like shooting blanks We flash, pop, burn away.
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LOVERS IN LONELY PARKS
It’s A Love Poem
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I know That centrifugal force, blooming in wind and ink in napkins, frizz and garlic salt The jokes about me have a thimble Of truth: I did see God at the height of all four seasons Shimmering, like fine craft glitter, on the other side of a chain link fence Surely, I wasn’t the only one The boys of my youth taught me to climb and hop in case we had to outrun the cops into a kind of freedom, that had no end. I’m trying to tell you It may be an exaggeration to claim that I have never been in love like this but I am painting a coastline, a silhouette, like its contours are the neck of my hometown and I am closing in from the waters, swimming. Alexus Erin 67
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www.audacityzine.com www.facebook.com/audacityzine @audacityzine 68