BY ALBERTE GREVE AND KIMBERLY WONG WHERE TO NEXT: BOTTOMS UP! 4 7
18 LEADING WITH PASSION
BY MELINA SAAD
Four female trailblazers uplift, inspire, and transform their communities, while overcoming adversity, through their dauntless leadership.
3 24 BY KRISTEN GMEREK BY SHANE JACOBSON THE STRONGEST MOTHERS I KNOW BY
THIS BRIDGE CALLED THEIR BACKS 28 BY SALYSSA DURAN DIG IN: THE QUEEN OF 4TH STREET
CHRISTINE NADER
Learn about the difficult, yet rewarding feminist fight for the right to education and the professors at CSULB who lead the way.
STUDENT VOICES: EXISTING IS POWER 10 BY KAITLIN NEANG
HIDDEN FIGURES: PLIGHTS & FLIGHTS: THE REALITY OF LIVING THREE LIVES
After losing his parents at an early age, one boy was cared for by three different mothers, who loved him like he was their own son.
DARYA JAFARINEJAD EDITOR-IN-CHIEF
CHRISTINE NADER DIGITAL DIRECTOR
GOPI VADSAK PHOTO EDITOR
MELINA SAAD PODCAST EDITOR
KIMBERLY WONG FEATURES EDITOR
AMY MUKAI ONLINE EDITOR
NAVEAH SABILLO VIDEO EDITOR
MELISA SKINDER ART DIRECTOR
NIKOLETTA ANAGNOSTOU ONLINE EDITOR
CAITLIN GANSERT SOCIAL MEDIA DIRECTOR
KRISTINA AGRESTA, BUSINESS MANAGER NOT PICTURED
NICOLLETTE COMBRE, PR & PROMOTIONS MANAGER
LEILA NUNEZ, WEB & TECHNOLOGY MASTER
ANDREA CONTRERAS, ADVERTISING MANAGER
ROBIN JONES, FACULTY ADVISOR
JENNIFER NEWTON, FACULTY ADVISOR
GENEVIE NGUYEN GRAPHIC DESIGNER
JADYN GILES ONLINE EDITOR
KAITLIN NEANG SOCIAL MEDIA EDITOR
KAITLIN DOU GRAPHIC DESIGNER
MEGAN POQUETTE NEWSLETTER EDITOR
KAYLA MIRANDA SOCIAL MEDIA EDITOR
ABOUT US
TINA HUNG ILLUSTRATOR
SABA NABAEIGHAHROUDI ILLUSTRATOR
SAM CHACKO PHOTOGRAPHER @digmaglb www.digmaglb.com digmagazinelb@gmail.com
DIG is a student-produced arts and culture magazine published by CSULB’s Department of Journalism and Public Relations. We inspire readers to immerse themselves in the Long Beach lifestyle through photography, videography, design, illustration and the written word.
My hair is untamable. No matter how many products I use or how many times I brush my hair, it’s always a little frizzy. It won’t stay down.
I used to hate this. Why wouldn’t it obey me? Sometimes, I think it’s laughing at me. How foolish am I to force down something that is naturally wild.
But now, I like this feature of my hair. My hair is an extension of me, of my female ancestors. I am reminded that I am the newest child of thousands of resilient women. Women who refused to be obedient and stay down. I look at the women around me, and realize that we are all next in a long line of wild women who refused to be tamed. We are the wild girls of today.
We struggle together, fight alongside each other, grieve together, and rise together. We also make mistakes, and unfortunately, some women prefer restraints to freedom. That said, many women have forged the bonds of solidarity—the act of loving and understanding one another, and of unity. With indomitable natures, women rise.
This issue is close to my heart, as I come from a gender-apartheid country (Iran) where women are in the midst of a feminist revolution. But growing up between two countries—Iran and the US—I’ve seen firsthand the immeasurable strength of women, from small moments to large. I am proud to be a woman.
Wherever there are women, there is courage and resilience. With love,
DEAR READER, Darya Jafarinejad
We as women have always had to force our way into the narrative. Society doesn’t make room for women who don’t fit into traditional roles. It’s barely learned to deal with us even when we do.
For years, we have written with power under more male-sounding pen names; had our contributions in art, politics, science, and just about every other field attributed to male relatives or peers; and have been left out of history again and again.
Yet, we persist.
The freedom to take charge of our own story and find a place in the narrative written by our culture has increased over the course of time. It is only because of decades of progress made by other women that we are able to choose what roles we want to play in the world.
In this issue, we hope to make room for stories that might not otherwise be heard and allow the voices of women — and people from all identities — to share their stories of successes and failures, of finding individuality and seeking community, of embracing their place in the world, and of living life in a way that uplifts others and breaks boundaries.
Now more than ever, let us make conscious decisions to work together in community to create spaces where we all can be free to exist in power.
Sincerely,
Kimberly Wong
STORY AND PHOTOS BY SALYSSA DURAN
Alder and Sage, a popular restaurant off Long Beach’s Retro Row, gleams behind a rising morning sun. Customers are greeted by the business’ logo: a woman sitting with legs criss-crossed, an alder branch floating above one hand and a sage branch floating above the other. Inside, hues of lush green and cedar brown create a warm and inviting presence. The delicious scents of brewed coffee and fresh-baked pastries fill the air.
Who could be behind this type of establishment?
Kerstin Kansteiner is the proud owner of Alder and Sage. Her calm yet charming aura matches energies with her restaurant.
Kansteiner never thought she would end up being a business owner. Born in Germany, she studied communication and marketing in
school. She was required to do a six-month internship before graduation and found herself traveling to the United States in 1989 to work for a shipping company based in Long Beach. But she didn’t plan on staying in America.
“It was supposed to be my last hurrah before I started a job and I literally ended up getting stuck here,” Kansteiner joked. “When I came here and did my internship, I was somebody that came from a different country. I had no friends and no connections. I was completely dumbfounded. How does one meet people here?
“In Europe, I was used to their cafés. It’s a central meeting spot. So you don’t have to know anybody and it is also not a bar situation. You can just go there and integrate yourself into the community. I really missed that and couldn’t find that here.”
She rediscovered a bit of that energy when the art gallery named Portfolio, which she owned with her expartner, shifted toward being a café. When she and her partner separated, she became the sole owner of Portfolio.
It was then when she began to build herself a community on Retro Row.
“I felt right at home. I can’t even explain it,” she said. “It was such an independent vibe. To me, it felt very European, as we tackled things by the bootstraps and did things ourselves. We literally started cleaning the street every Saturday morning with a bucket and a broom. We would make it more attractive for folks.”
She worked hard, leaving her manager position at another café to run Portfolio full-time. She was careful in not taking out loans or credit cards in fear of financially overextending her business. Every extra dollar earned was put back into the café.
As the years flew by, Kansteiner found herself with two businesses: in addition to Portfolio, she owned Berlin Bistro, a restaurant in downtown Long Beach.
Unfortunately, in 2022, due to conflicts with a landlord, both businesses closed, much to Kansteiner’s dismay.
She was done with the business world. Or so she thought.
But then, she was presented with an opportunity at a location just a few blocks away from Portfolio that would eventually become Alder and Sage. During this change, she thought of her previous employees from both Berlin and Portfolio.
“It seemed like the ideal situation to bring the cooking staff from [Berlin Bistro] and the baristas from Portfolio. Everybody could keep their job, and [we could] approach things again in a modern way,” Kansteiner said.
The combination of the Berlin kitchen team and the Portfolio baristas means that Alder and Sage has both high-quality food and delicious coffee. They create their menu following the concept of “less is more.”
“Everything is made in-house,” Kansteiner said. “They have a tiny little freezer that isn’t able to hold much but french fries. I’ve always leaned into healthier farm-fresh local ingredients, and that mindset strengthened after the pandemic. It’s kind of a European approach.”
Alder and Sage also sells specialty drinks. “With the newer and a bit more higher-end location, it just seemed like the thing to do,” Kansteiner said. “It’s kind of fun creating new drinks that lean into the season at the time.”
Despite all her hard work, Kansteiner was still met with surprise when people realized she wasn’t a man, but a female business owner.
“I got this with vendors and sometimes customers,” she said. “For many years, I worked my own shifts. I worked at least five to six days a week. Anytime somebody came in and asked for the owner, they always asked if he was there. It was an assumption that a woman couldn’t be a business owner. It ended up being a joke.
“There were certain shifts with a male employee where people would turn to him because people just assumed it wasn’t me. If you own a business you must be a man. I do feel like there was a slight advantage. It was almost the advantage of surprise.”
As for advice to women looking to own their own business,
Kansteiner said, “Just do it and learn as much as you can about your product. It is not an easy route but it is an interesting route. It doesn’t necessarily mean you are going to make a million dollars. You can be shocked seeing how many hours you put into a business and you’re making less than minimum wage.
“But the rewards are amazing. You’re building community. You meet different people and have different challenges everyday. I never know what’s going to come through my door, and I love that.”
BOTTOMS UP !
Female-owned bars in Long Beach
STORY
BY ALBERTE GREVE AND KIMBERLY WONG
Imagine this: your best friends, a cold drink, and a safe space in which to yap for hours. What’s not to like? The popularity of the TikTok trend “This and Yap” clearly shows that the combination of endless conversations while sipping on a cocktail, a glass of wine, or a cup of coffee is definitely a favorite activity among groups of young women.
There are plenty of spots around Long Beach where friends can do just that. But there are three female-owned businesses in particular that have dedicated themselves to creating welcoming spaces in which everyone, but especially women, can feel free to kick back and relax. Though their journeys haven’t always been easy, they have all achieved success in their own way. If you’re interested in enjoying a a good drink, curious about natural wines, or looking for a local spot to watch women’s sports — with the sound on! — read on. Cheers!
DISTRICT WINE
114 Linden Ave., Long Beach
Inthe heart of downtown Long Beach 14 years ago, the doors to a cozy, living roominspired wine bar and tapas lounge opened. District Wine was the name given to the space by the then-28-year-old owner, Angela Mesna, who was introduced to wine while working in the restaurant industry.
“I fell in love with wine after I started wine tasting,” Mesna says. “I love the wine, I love the agriculture element, and I love the history. I went into restaurant design after college, and I dreamed of creating a space and a moment for people. In District Wine, I brought all these elements together.”
Mesna welcomes people into the wine bar as if it were her own home, and guests are treated like friends and family rather than customers, especially their 100 members, who are regularly invited to social wine tasting events.
With a curated list of exclusive boutique wines and craft beers from all around the
world, her primary goal is helping guests discover something new that they might have never tried, but might also grow to truly love. Despite having limited travel opportunities since becoming a mother, Mesna has, through her many years in the field, built strong partnerships with distributors that represent small family or women-owned wineries. But her success was not without hard work.
“People didn’t take me seriously because I was relatively young when it started,” she says. “There was a lot of age discrimination, and then I was a woman in a male-dominated field on top of that.”
Mesna thinks it has gotten better since she was starting out, especially as the number of female-owned businesses has increased in the area. Her best advice to other women dreaming of working in the wine industry? Trust yourself, be confident, and don’t be afraid to ask questions.
BUVONS NATURAL WINE BAR AND SHOP
1147 Loma Ave., Long Beach
Let’s drink.” This is the direct translation of the French verb “buvons,” which gives its name to Alicia Kemper’s unique wine bar, Buvons Natural Wine Bar and Shop. This name fits perfectly with the welcoming atmosphere Kemper creates at her establishment.
“It is like being in Paris, where there are many small wine shops,” she says. “You pop a bottle for a lower price and can enjoy it in a calm atmosphere. That is more my style than super high-end.”.
Although her fascination with the City of Love is impossible to hide, the shop’s shelves are not only filled with French specialties. There is a wide selection of rare natural wines, with a focus on wines sold by European distributors that cannot be found in normal grocery stores.
Kemper has traveled the world to find the perfect natural wines, which, in addition to being farmed by organic or biodynamic methods, are often fermented with native or ambient yeast and made with minimal
or low intervention. These methods are just one of the reasons why the wines have a unique flavor.
When Kemper’s wine bar opened during COVID-19 in 2021, she had already worked for female bosses in the industry, and she recommends that others do the same.
“I think we all still struggle with assumptions and the challenge of being a female boss. It does not get easier, but you get less offended by it over time,” she says.
Working with people who respect you regardless of your gender and traveling and tasting wines as much as you can is Kemper’s advice to others.
“Putting myself in a situation where I was afraid and felt intimidated was the best thing I’ve ever done,” she says. “I didn’t know anyone or speak [French]. But I think it’s exactly in these situations where a lot of magical things can happen.”
Soon, Kemper will expand next door with a restaurant and wine bar.
Photo courtesy by District Wine
Photo courtesy by
Buvons Natural Wine Bar and Shop
WATCH ME! SPORTS BAR
6527 E. Pacific Coast Highway, Long Beach
WatchMe!, born out of owner Jax Diener’s lifelong dream to open a sports bar, is a local establishment centered around women’s sports that has become a new hub for fans and locals alike.
Diener’s vision began during a night out when she and her friend were visiting a sports bar to watch an NFL game. “I realized that I wasn’t as comfortable as I could be,” she says. “It felt like all the guys would look at us and have this [mindset of] ‘What are you doing here? You don’t know the sport, you don’t understand [sports],’ and I would walk out every Sunday thinking that we were just as smart as them. I thought that someday, I would own my own sports bar.”
Life led Diener through many different jobs and industries before she was able to realize her idea. Before opening Watch Me!, she worked in childcare, the entertainment industry, and advertising.
“That was fulfilling in some ways,” she says. “I loved working in production and the team that I built, but it was still missing something for me, and I still had this thought in the back of my mind like, hey, maybe I could actually open that bar someday. And I just didn’t let go of it.”
Inspired by other women’s sports bars, Diener, supported by her wife and co-owner Emme Eddy, began the work of opening Watch Me! in September 2023. The goal? To create a space where fans of women’s sports and the Long Beach community as a whole could gather to celebrate and uplift female athletes.
The bar drew crowds immediately. The line to enter Watch Me! on its grand opening in July 2024 stretched far out the door, and the bar is regularly packed, especially during important games.
“There are moments where I’m standing back and looking at all these people here to watch these games, with the sound on, and seeing their superstars on the TV,” Diener says. “And when those [moments] happen, and they do
happen, periodically, where I’m just going, “OK, this is why I did this.” Those are incredibly fulfilling moments, and I cherish those.”
The bar isn’t just a place for watching the game, though. Diener has plans to expand Watch Me!’s community events, from recently launched live music performances and DJ Fridays to other gatherings like open-air markets. And the bar’s management is intentional in their efforts to cater to all visitors, no matter who they are, making efforts like collaborating with Visit Gay Long Beach, serving a variety of non-alcoholic drink options, and working to create a family-friendly space.
“We’re really a community space,” Diener says. “When you walk in the door, we’re going let you know that you’re going to be taken care of in this space.”
This intentional sense of community is born out from Diener’s goal to uplift and empower individuals from marginalized groups, from female athletes to other business owners. Her advice to anyone who’s afraid to take the leap?
“If you really truly believe in it with your heart, just go and do it,” she says. “Don’t talk yourself out of it. Don’t say, ‘But what if…’ and look at the negatives of it. Because you’re never going to know unless you try. Believe in yourself. There’s nothing wrong with trying.”
Photo by Kimberly Wong
STORY BY KAITLIN NEANG
How one CSULB student balances a high-flying job with school and motherhood
urbulence. Life is turbulent. You’re thrown in all sorts of directions you never expect. Good or bad, you learn to adapt, and you learn to succeed. Since she was 21 years old, turbulence has been all that Ashley Lacambra has known. Lacambra has played many roles in her life, as she is not only a student at CSULB studying communications and PR, but also a part-time flight attendant and the fulltime mom of her 1-year-old daughter, Ava. But by May 2025, she will be one role less and one diploma more. At 21, Lacambra took on a full-time office job, worked as a server at a sushi restaurant, and committed to working at a gift shop for a circus. Her jobs consisted of her working eight-hour office shifts every weekday, then serving customers at Kura Sushi on Tuesdays and Thursdays in the evenings, and then working weekends for the seasonal circus, Teatri Zinzanni, where she sold souvenirs and gifts. She never caught a break. But, she enjoyed wearing different hats, pursuing untouched facets in jobs, and learning new things
PHOTOS COURTESY OF ASHLEY LACAMBRA
while still young.
Although her schedule was often hectic, Lacambra never regretted the tough workload she took on, as they all prepared her for an evergreen lifestyle as a flight attendant. While working at the Teatro Zinzanni’s gift shop, all of the performers and workers convened for daily dinners, which exposed Lacambra to all of the various nationalities and cultures each person had to offer. They would share stories of their travels and how different their lifestyles were from the only one Lacambra had ever known. She was inspired by their adventurous lives, which encouraged her to begin her own journey and travel the world.
After those dinners, the way she envisioned her life changed. Every day on the way to her office job, Lacambra passed by John Wayne Airport. Outside her window, she would watch the planes fly over the bustling morning traffic on the freeway, which fueled her dreams of exploring new areas.
“And at the time, this was super cheesy, but my friend told me that ‘if you catch a thousand airplanes through your crosshairs you can make a wish, and that wish is going to come true,’” Lacambra says.
“ ”...if you catch a thousand airplanes through your crosshairs you can make a wish...
Eventually, her dreams of becoming a flight attendant came to fruition. An old friend of hers helped guide her in applying to American Airlines, which led to a phone interview, personality test, and social observations that consisted of a hiring panel watching how she interacted with other individuals and remembered general information. These tests were to assess how well Lacambra could familiarize herself with different kinds of people and new information, all of which she would experience as a flight attendant.
Finally, after several flights to Dallas, Lacambra was the third-youngest applicant chosen out of her cohort of 60 to become an American Airlines flight attendant.
From there, American Airlines based her in New York City, and Lacambra was able to experience how different life in the big city was compared to Orange County. Adjusting to the work culture and the weather conditions there was challenging, but change never scared Lacambra. If anything, it made her more curious about what it was like to be in other parts of the world.
Lacambra made the most out of her flights by making connections with a wide-range of passengers (some being celebrities, creatives, CEOs, marine biologists, diplomats, and fashion designers) and has now traveled to over 40 countries across the globe, including the Bahamas, Scotland, Greece, and Japan.
But after a few years of traveling, Lacambra had thoughts of returning to school. From January to May 2019, she volunteered at A21, a non-profit organization that aims to fight human trafficking. In order to work certain jobs, she needed to have a college degree, and her mentor advised her to return to school to educate herself on the proper topics and make herself indispensable to her future workplaces.
Deciding to return to school full-time was a big decision for Lacambra. Not only would she have a packed schedule, but she would also have to cut her time being a flight attendant or possibly even leave the position she loved.
“I would just remember walking by the river and thinking: ‘OK, what school do I want to go to?’” she says. “And I still want to stay a flight attendant. It never occurred to me to ever leave being a flight attendant. I always wanted to do it on the side. I know flight attendants who are lawyers and nurses and professors.”
While flying between The Hague, Netherlands, and the United States, she officially decided to enroll at Orange Coast Community College. When COVID-19 restrictions forced universities to
and her love for exploring the world, in 2022, Lacambra chose to study abroad in Paris to learn French so she could see if furthering her education was the right choice for her.
“I loved it. I loved French. I loved going to school. Going to class made me really happy,” she says.
On her return, she decided to transfer to CSULB with a major in communications and a minor in public relations. Lacambra spent her downtime on the plane, in airports, and in her hotel room completing homework assignments and readings to keep up with class materials. Though it wasn’t easy, she knew that if she was able to work three jobs at once and become a flight attendant, she could do anything that she put
chose to continue to study toward her bachelor’s degree.
“I’m just going to get the degree because I worked so hard for it,” she says. “Just keep going. A lot of people told me not to continue. A lot of my family told me not to. They’re like, ‘You need to focus on this. And you’re going to be a flight attendant, you can’t do all three [roles].’”
A year later, Lacambra celebrated her daughter’s first birthday, 10 years as a flight attendant, and being one semester closer to graduation. As she reflects back on her unconventional path, Lacambra says she has no regrets on where her decisions have led her in life. While the flight might have been long and turbulent to get to the point where she is today, she
STORYBYKRISTENGMEREK PHOTOSBYSKYELOPEZ
Our existence, whether at rest or in motion, is our power
There are so many of us who wish we had a chance to relive our childhood, especially those of us who had to hide ourselves out of safety and survival for so long. Sometimes we crave childhood for nostalgia’s sake, and sometimes we crave childhood because we desire to exist in innocence just as we are; without a need to conform or mold ourselves into what someone else wants for us, rather than what we want for ourselves.
I grew up as the stereotypical middle child of my family, people-pleasing my way into submission so that I could avoid the pain and hurt I felt so deeply for wanting differently than what I was told I should. In girlhood, I was meant to always be bubbly, sparkly, yet muted. And as I grew into womanhood, I was told to be dutiful, graceful, desirable, yet aloof. These messages come at you from all angles. From family, from friends, from partners, from the media, from your own internalized misogyny that our society so insidiously builds into everyday life. It slowly ate away at my worth. It slowly ate away at the human I so desperately wanted to exist as.
Any effort to hold onto girlhood and womanhood slowly started to die the day my mom did. Not because she was the source of my silence, but because her shortened life was a reminder that I very well could risk living my entire life locked away and never get the chance to simply exist as I am. Even after she was gone, I overcompensated with push-up bras and passive aggression during my undergrad years so that I could feel worthy yet unattainable. I would come home from the bars and
lie in my bed surrounded by darkness and loneliness, not because I didn’t have anyone lying next to me, but because my soul felt like it had been fragmented and sold for parts to feel perceived and valued. I didn’t have the language yet to communicate what I was feeling and instead let depression suffice, later realizing that it was gender dysphoria. I didn’t feel at home within the parameters I had built around my soul. I felt disconnected from my inner voice so much that it took years to hear it again. That inner voice softened as my exterior hardened against the world. I felt like no one really knew my truest self. Not even I knew them. That was until I realized, I had a choice.
The first time I came across the word “nonbinary” was in 2020. I was disassociating and scrolling through Instagram, as most of us did to cope during a global pandemic, when I saw a post from a queer artist I followed discussing the various gender identities and definitions. It felt like the air had been taken from my lungs when my eyes fell on “nonbinary” buried within the flurry of illustrations and text on the screen. I felt as if the world fell silent and a sense of overwhelming clarity washed over me. And in that moment I knew I had found the words I needed to begin unearthing the parts of myself I had been at war with my entire life.
I didn’t “come out” as nonbinary, I came home. And the day I came home to myself was the day I heard that inner voice again. I came home to the parts of myself I thought I had lost long ago. The parts of myself that make me feel alive. The parts of myself that make me feel worthy without having to commodify or bargain for worthiness. I came home and all of the deepest fractures my heart had endured to survive mended through deep healing, affirmation, and understanding my power in existing.
I still battle with the idea constantly of being “queer enough” for the world. And then I battle with being “too queer.” The dichotomy keeps me up at night as I snuggle beneath the blankets with my partner and our fur babies. It starves the same part of my soul that used to lie awake at night wondering if I would ever be “woman enough” for the world. I always felt like I was standing outside of a prism, witnessing girlhood and womanhood play out as I pressed my face up to the glass to feel close to it, even if that closeness was fleeting and finite. But I realize now, I never really wanted to find my way into that prism. I wanted to run freely outside of it. I wanted to swim in the depths of my soul. I wanted to exist without being contained. Slowly, I am learning to let go of needing to be perceived as anything to anyone. I am living in being seen and loved as I am. I believe all of us deserve to want that for ourselves, however we identify.
Because our existence, whether at rest or in motion, is our power.
PHOTOS BY KIMBERLY WONG
with
NWomen’s History Month is about celebrating the achievements of women across America and their vital role in U.S. history, while breaking harmful stereotypes sexism created. It has expanded to recognize women of all cultures and careers and to publicly declare that women aren’t only mothers or sisters, they’re all individuals who have worked hard to achieve their goals.
CSULB is a hub for women in leadership. Whether it’s your friends, your dorm’s RA, or a professor, many admirable women across campus have stories worth telling and advice to share. Morgan Milobar, a third-year public relations major, is an example of one such woman.
While researching different college options with the intent of being a PR major, Milobar chose to attend CSULB for the Public Relations Student Society Association (@prssalb). This club is not commonly found across other campuses and would help Milobar’s professional development. Now, she’s the president, delegating tasks for the club and ensuring national deadlines are met for the Long Beach chapter.
Despite previous board experience as the director of events and fundraising, Milobar had doubts about stepping into the role of president during her second year.
“There was a vacancy and I didn’t feel like I was ready,” Milobar says. “Someone else filled the role and I was talking to her about how she was doing and how she managed the board. It was a good learning opportunity.”
STORY BY PHOTOS BY MELINA SAAD KIMBERLY WONG
Much of Milobar’s experience came from observing how others managed a team, built relationships, and handled their time with strict deadlines. From then on, she gained enough confidence to run for president of PRSSA.
“If I didn’t have people I could shadow, I would’ve been too scared to do it,” Milobar said. Since shadowing and learning from leaders before her, Milobar has now become the leader that others can be inspired by.
Now, she faces challenges regarding national deadlines, raising attendance, and publicizing the club. But she’s proud of leading by example.
“Do it while you’re scared,” Milobar says. “It sounds terrifying, but if you tell your
mentors you’re nervous about something, they’ll be there to help you.”
While Milobar followed in the footsteps of inspiring leaders that came before her, Zhina Shirdel created a community from the ground up.
“It sounds terrifying, but if you tell your mentors you’re nervous about something, they’ll be there to help you.
”
Shirdel is a fourth-year biology major who is the president and founder of the Iranian Student Association (@iraniansa.csulb). She moved from her home country of Iran at 15 years old and transferred to CSULB from Irvine Valley College.
O“When I transferred to CSULB, I was in a completely new environment; I didn’t know anyone,” Shirdel says. “I remember walking around campus and realizing there wasn’t a space for Iranian students, and if I was missing that connection to my culture, others might be too.”
Since 2022, Shirdel and a group of other founders have come together to bring the club to life, seeking out advisors, promoting their club at events, and bringing a greater presence to the Iranian community on campus.
“I wanted this organization to not only bring our people together but also invite others on this diverse campus to experience that warmth,” Shirdel says. “With the help of my incredible fellow female leaders who helped form the founding board, the Iranian Student Association was established.”
Now, Shirdel represents the group during meetings with other organizations, runs the social media account, and manages its board members.
“Because I was one of the founding members, I wanted to make sure we had the experience ready for the next board members,” Shirdel says. “So I’ve been working on a board booklet with all the details on how to lead, what resources we have, events, and so on.”
Starting a club from scratch is not easy, especially when trying to reach a specific community. It was difficult for Shirdel to start this club and seek out members, she says, but looking back, she recalls the memories with a smile.
“As cliché as it might sound, my advice is to go for it,” Shirdel says. “If things don’t turn out exactly as you hoped, you’ve still created awareness
and opened the door for others to join the conversation.”
Since arriving at CSULB, Shirdel has made the organization a priority to bring Iranian students together despite the challenges of building a club from scratch. True to the meaning of her last name, with the heart of a lion, she has demonstrated courage in an unfamiliar environment and brought a community together.
“Especially as a woman, you might have that doubt in yourself,” Shirdel says. “But this has given me the courage to not be scared in the future.”
Strong communities encourage an environment to grow and advocate for the best of everyone, especially under an admirable leader. Isabella Pellicer, for example, joined the Days for Girls (@daysforgirls_csulb) club to spread awareness for women’s health while supporting other women. She has since stepped into the role of president of the club.
“As a woman, I’ve had firsthand experience in the lack of proper education on our health,” Pellicer says. “It’s so important for women to make informed decisions about their healthcare.”
Pellicer is a fourth-year kinesiology major. As president of the DFG club, she oversees activities and ensures that the board members are supported. As the club name suggests, most members are women, including the entire board, allowing a safe space for women to discuss their health and wellness openly.
“We’re all like-minded and we all have the same passion and goals in mind,” Pellicer says. “It brings us together and makes us stronger, especially in a club that’s focused on women’s health.”
Pellicer’s challenge was learning how essential a support system can be, especially as someone who struggles to ask other people for help.
“Women can feel pressured into appearing stronger and more independent,” she says. “But I think knowing when to seek help and guidance
YMORGA M N
ELLICER ISABELL P A
is important when reaching your goals.”
She felt the pressure of appearing stronger as the club’s president, but her board members made overcoming this challenge easier.
“It’s so important to seek out a supportive team,” Pellicer says. “I’ve learned over time that you can’t do everything on your own. Being a leader is not a solo role.”
Pellicer realized that even if it might be intimidating to step into a leadership role as a woman, the community and awareness it brings allowed her the ability to give back and support others.
Another woman who knew she wanted to help improve the CSULB community is Nikki Majidi, a thirdyear political science major, another founding member of the Iranian Student Association, and the new ASI president (@csulbasi).
“I could not [have] seen myself in a position like this [years ago] and if you had told me [that I was in it now], I would’ve laughed,” Majidi says. “The drive to do it comes down to my sheer passion for what I do. I find myself becoming more determined every day to give back more.”
AJIDI M
As ASI president, Majidi made it a priority to talk to students directly and put her heart and soul into campaigns and events to bring students together.
“I really emphasized tabling and talking to students this year,” she says. “I’m able to get so many issues back to me where I can take it up to [President Conoley].”
AOne such campaign was last semester’s Ballot Bowl, where ASI hosted multiple campaigns, created merchandise, and held tabling events, all of which eventually led CSULB to have the third most registered voters across colleges in California.
Similarly to the previous club presidents, Majidi needed to learn how to manage her time as both a student and ASI president. Her approach has been allocating different times of her day to dedicate to specific things, as she is also a very involved student.
“Knowing what and how to prioritize is one of the biggest lessons I needed,” Majidi said. “Specifically, knowing how to take care of myself while also being a leader.”
Although of different majors and
backgrounds, all four women share one main similarity: the passion to overcome their doubts and make a positive impact in their communities. College, in general, is an optimal time to branch out and try out for leadership positions.
“It’s a huge thing with the college experience and being a woman where you’re able to be in a space of education and all the resources on campus,” Majidi says. “It’s truly liberating to know you have the freedom to do really anything.
“It’s so important to me that I’m a woman upholding the values and constantly advocating for these women to be in [leadership] spaces,” Majidi
This Bridge Called Their Backs This Bridge Called Their Backs
In the late 1960’s, the first brick for the foundation of CSULB’s Women’s, Gender, & Sexuality Studies (WGSS) Department was laid through the creation of two courses titled “Women and Their Bodies” and “The Lesbian.”
The Women’s Studies program formed later on in the 1970’s as a grassroots effort with many lesbian instructors. Faculty and students participated directly in community events and demonstrations, and bolstered the presence of feminism on campus.
But this was not without constant pushback. The program and curriculum were considered controversial.
Conservative women in Long Beach sent individuals into the program’s courses to expose the syllabus and pedagogy in order to cause a ruckus; this led to questions about the curriculum and its validity.
In recent history, women’s, gender, & sexuality studies departments across the United States have been facing an intense wave of criticism and confusion about why the study of women, gender, and sexuality is necessary, with online discourse even suggesting it is a “fake subject.”
This begs the question, “What is Women’s, Gender, and Sexuality Studies?”
STORY BY CHRISTINE NADER
PHOTOS BY SANDEEP KOTHURI
Azza Basarudin
Azza Basarudin, an associate professor of WGSS, defines the field of study as critical discussions about using intersectional, decolonial, and transnational approaches to understand how different people are affected by structures of power. Additionally, she notes the courses respond to marginalized students’ complex experiences, which she states are very relevant in today’s times.
Common stereotypes from outside
Lori Baralt
perspectives heard by the WGSS faculty include that the course content causes misandry or that they focus on solely first-wave, eurocentric feminist ideals.
“I would say on campus is the common place [for stereotyping], not just for students, but with faculty that think, ‘Oh, that’s the gender studies [department], they do the feminist stuff,’ Basarudin said. “We are dismissed as... not really doing intellectual work and we are not taken seriously because of that.”
Lori Baralt, a professor and the chair of the WGSS department, developed WGSS 375 - Reproductive Justice 10 years ago, due to increasing interest from students on campus. She notes that the course is one of her favorites to teach due to the constantly changing content.
It is examples of demand for classes like this that usher in more engagement
Jennifer Reed
and keep the department and its faculty feeling secure and afloat.
“If things come down from the Department of Education that are holding our funding hostage, that makes it harder, so we need to have allies outside of our department,” Baralt said. “We need people that know what we do is important and fight for it.”
Jennifer Reed, a professor of WGSS, began working at CSULB in the 2000’s and rose to become the chair of the department from 2015 to 2021, before eventually returning to her previous position as a professor.
Reed spearheaded the idea for a Queer Studies minor through an organization formerly known as the LGBT Task Force. The minor received approval from the university in 2013 and has remained in the program ever since.
Reed also mentioned that the general education requirements at CSULB have been
cut down over the past 10 years for different reasons. WGSS courses used to be a part of almost all of GE requirements, but have since been removed. This hurt the department because it was where a solid portion of their enrollment came from.
“What I would really like to see is to have gender studies required like ethnic studies is,” Reed said. “Everybody should have some gender education that allows you to understand how gender works. I think most people think they understand [gender], but what gender studies classes give you is the realization that you don't understand it.”
Stacy Macías
One of the core values that keeps the WGSS department tight knit is their focus on maintaining a safe community space for their students.
Stacy Macías, an associate professor of WGSS, joined the department in August of 2016, a couple of months prior to Donald Trump winning the 2016 election.
This election result led to a shift in the atmosphere on both student and faculty sides. Students came to class on that Wednesday after the election with tears in
their eyes. They began anticipating the worst in terms of public discourse, policies, and the culture at large.
“I think there was a heightened interest in feminist studies and in gender and sexuality,” Macías said.
“When you put a person like that into office who represents everything that symbolically, physically, and materially [is] so opposite of what we as a department and…public educators represent...people are spurred to
The nature of the department is where the personal is political, which has led to the four professors forming a strong radical feminist friendship. The professors care strongly for each other, with Baralt reminiscing on their “good times, trust, and honesty.”
The environment they have fostered is what allows them to discuss politics and personal opinion with ease. The subject of WGSS heavily explores the realm of politics, political structures and socioeconomic status, and how it impacts people’s livelihood.
The WGSS department has been advocating for Palestinian human rights through collaboration with various departments on campus. With Basarudin spearheading the event programming, they host conversations with speakers about topics such as reproductive issues in Gaza and sexual violence in conflict zones.
“I think we were one of the main departments to take on, envision, and to actually organize and to support a lot of the events that brought attention to the issue on our campus in a real effort to educate, to counter dominant narratives,” Macías said.
With the rise of the phrase, “your body, my choice” after the 2024 election, and a societal imbalance regarding how people accept the LGBTQ+ community, Reed emphasizes the importance of education on gender and sexuality in
this day and age, highlighting the government’s decisionmaking about transgender kids in bathrooms.
“If we have people elected to office deciding about reproductive choices without understanding how gender works, we're in a pack of trouble—and we are,” Reed said.
Basarudin brought up a learning moment from her teaching career. A white male student constantly heckled her from the back of the class despite her trying to reason with him.
However, at the end of the semester, the student visited her in her office and apologized for his behavior. He explained that his societal viewpoints had never been challenged by a woman of color before and how he never expected her course to change his perspective on gender and sexuality.
“If that one person can rethink their role in this world, that’s good enough for me. I’ll take the little wins when I can,” Basarudin said.
Since its inception to even today, gender studies have frequently been disregarded. Yet, they may be more relevant now than ever.
“The optimism is that none of us are going down without standing up, without being proactive. We're going to take a stand and deal with what comes up then,” Macías said.
If that one person can rethink their role in this world, that’s good enough for me. I’ll take the little wins when I can ” “
STORY BY SHANE JACOBSON
The Strongest I know MOTHERS
ILLUSTRATIONS BY TINA HUNG
It’s 2002, and I’m standing on the stage of my middle school auditorium for a special awards ceremony. I’ve just accepted an academic award for “Most Turned-Around Student” from my eighth-grade science teacher, Ms. Crane. Amidst the applause, I look out at the audience, lifting my hand over my brow ridge to block the bright spotlight and search for the people who helped make this happen. Finally, I see them: my grandfather and our upstairs neighbor, Shauna Smith. She’s smiling, sitting next to my grandpa, and they’re both clapping. I’m overcome with joy as I head toward them.
To be the most turned-around student implies you were headed in the wrong direction. In my case, I was plummeting toward the earth in a screaming ball of depression and anger. Prior to winning that award, the world was my enemy. I didn’t believe in God, but if he was real, I despised him.
It may seem strange to cherish an oddly specific award from eighth grade so highly, but that award represented an inflection point in my life. It signified strength, success, and support.
On April 15th, 2001 — Easter Sunday — my grandfather bellowed out my name from the living
room. “Shane, can you come out here?” As I entered, I saw my grandpa and Shauna.
Shauna was more than just our neighbor; she had become a family friend given our families’ close proximity to one another. Shauna and her husband, Mitch Smith, owned the house we lived in. We moved in during the summer of 1995.
Shauna developed a closeness with our family, and me in particular, over the years. She was someone you could easily confide in. I trusted her like I trusted my own family.
Shauna sat me down on my grandpa’s giant black cracked-leather recliner. I nervously rocked back and forth as Shauna took a knee to look me in the eye. She grabbed the arm rest to stop the chair’s incessant motion. Her eyes welled with tears as she said, “Shane, I’m so sorry, your mom died earlier this morning.”
I was 12 years old. My father died in 1995 – the impetus for our move. All I had left of a family was my 77-year-old grandfather.
I was devastated. Distraught. Irate.
I remember exploding out of the chair, rushing past Shauna and my grandpa, through our long hallway to my mom’s bedroom and assaulting the bathroom door until my fist burst through the other side. It was the worst day of my life.
My mom, Christine, battled multiple sclerosis, a disease of the central nervous system, for years. Diagnosed in her mid-thirties and widowed shortly after, the deck of life was stacked against her.
That first week of April, she checked herself into the hospital, complaining of a bad cold and pain in her chest. She died of complications from pneumonia. She was 42.
After my mom died, I crumbled, feeling like the world wanted me to suffer. Most of all, I was furious. I hated everyone who had parents. I hated everyone who had a nuclear family – two healthy parents and a loving household. I was consumed with jealousy of their normalcy.
The street we lived on teemed with these “normal” families. A constant reminder of what I didn’t have.
However, these families yielded several friends my age. So, not all bad.
I had three best friends: Joseph, Michael, and Enrique. We constantly played outside together, twohand-touch football, tag, hockey, three-flags-up, and anything else that got us running around.
One evening, during a game of football in the street, Tori, Michael’s mom, summoned him home for spaghetti dinner from their front yard. Michael and I started to go our separate ways when Tori yelled out for me. She asked, “You hungry? There’s plenty.”
Dinner at my home primarily consisted of microwaveable dinners by Marie Callender's, Stouffer’s, Swanson’s, and Kid Cuisine. No knock on my grandpa, he did his best. He was grieving the loss of his only child. Suffice it to say, the idea of having a home-cooked meal sounded glorious.
I’ll never forget that spaghetti. I had multiple servings, to the point where Tori wasn’t sure I was getting enough to eat at home. Before leaving, Tori made me a to-go plate for my grandpa. This was the first of many meals from Tori. She spoiled me with toys and attention, the same way she did for her own son.
Shane's 8th grade yearbook picture Shane's 8th grade TA picture
Photos Courtesy of Shane Jacobson
Still, it was hard not to hold jealousy and resentment toward Michael and his “perfect” dualparent family. But not all my friends had that.
Enrique’s mom, Louise, was a single mom with three kids who worked full-time. After my mom died, Louise inherited a fourth kid — me. She provided me with meals, and took me to school and outings with her family.
As a single mom, Louise had to be the disciplinarian. Louise taught me there are consequences for my actions. I learned to hold myself accountable.
Louise and her kids went to the Swap Meet in North Hollywood most weekends. On multiple occasions, I went with them. It was a fun place for me and Enrique to run around and buy candy or random toys from the various merchants.
There was one time when I inadvertently ditched Louise and the family while at the Swap Meet. I didn’t know it at the time, but I had gone missing. Louise looked for me all over the Swap Meet floor. Eventually, she found me and told me to never leave her sight without telling her where I was going. She yelled at me. She yelled at me the same way I had seen her yell at her own kids when they messed up. And that, oddly enough, made me feel like I was part of her family. She yelled at me because she cared for me like one of her own kids.
Often, the Smith kids were outside with the rest of us playing when Shauna would stick her head out the second-story window and whistle loud enough for the entire block to hear. She’d then yell, “Dinnertime!” Shauna’s kids immediately bolted home for dinner.
I would go over to the Smith’s house almost daily. I didn’t need to knock on the door. I just walked in and made myself at home. I did my homework there, I watched movies with the family – Dumb and Dumber was in heavy rotation – and had an open invitation for dinner.
Spending time with Enrique’s family showed me I wasn’t the only kid who didn’t have a picturesque nuclear family unit.
Of all the moms who helped me, Shauna was the closest thing I had to a stepmom. She fully took me in, making me feel like a part of the family. Her seventh child. Her family felt like the real-life version of The Brady Bunch, minus the divorce and live-in housekeeper. Shauna and Mitch had six kids: four girls and two boys, each separated by a few years. I hung out with Joseph the most, but got along with all the kids.
But the Smiths didn’t take just me in, they also adopted my grandpa. He and I spent every holiday with the Smiths, participating in their family traditions. We celebrated the Fourth of July in the back carport with an inflatable bounce house and barbecue.
Thanksgiving meant Mitch’s famous smoked turkey and watching football. Christmas meant secret Santa, with everyone piled in the living room by the tree clawing into gifts simultaneously. New Year’s Eve meant crowding around the fire until midnight and setting off poppers and noisemakers.
Shauna incorporated me into her big family with such grace and ease I never felt out of place. It really started to feel as though the Smith family was my family. So much so that when Shauna stuck her head out the window and whistled, I came running.
Shauna, Tori, and Louise all welcomed me into their lives and homes, giving me a chance to live a normal childhood during the hardest year of my life.
That normalcy, that love, brought me to that auditorium at John Muir Middle School, winning “Most Turned-Around Student.” As I held that award and spotted Shauna Smith, sitting next to my grandpa –both clapping and smiling – I thought to myself, this is love. This is family.
Shane's 8th grade graduation with his grandpa
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$5 off @ Nugget Grill & Pub!*
Every Wednesday in February 2025, Members who use their LBS Financial Credit Union debit card for purchases of $5 or more will receive $5 off.
Scan the QR Code to join online or visit us on the second floor of the Beach Shops Bookstore. New Members can receive $50 to Beach Shops when opening a checking account and using the promo code BEACH2025!**
*Minimum purchase of $5 or more at the Nugget Grill and Pub at CSULB. Offer good on the following dates in February 2025: 2/5/25, 2/12/25, 2/19/25 and 2/26/25 for LBS Financial Members who pay using their LBS Financial debit card (any card design). One purchase per day, per Member. Cannot be combined with any other discounts or promotions. Promotion excludes alcohol purchases.
**To receive a $50 Gift Card to Beach Shops there’s a $1 fee per new Member plus $5 minimum savings balance to maintain Member account. Must be a new Member to the Credit Union. $50 gift card will be emailed 45 days following account opening. Must use promo code online or open at an LBS Financial Branch with promo code. Account must be open and in good standing to receive gift card.
